When we first started our foster to adopt journey almost 2 years ago we were only looking to adopt. We initially had no intention of fostering. Well, through the classes we had to take to be licensed as a perspective home to adopt a child from foster care we learned more and more of the NEED. We learned more and more how the system is broken. We learned more and more about how there are some people, who have no business having kids in there home, are foster parents even though they might be doing more harm than the bio home ever did. Through it all we felt the call. The call to step forward and be a part of a solution. A part of the change. If there is to be any hope for children in care it has to start with the homes the children are in. If you have more people motivated by the right things that truly care for the kids then there's a greater chance of these foster kids ending up in the safe nurturing home. A home that will help them grow and heal. A home that gives the bio parents a chance to learn from whatever happened. A chance for the bio parents to grow. All the while allowing the child to be safe.
Inevitably as we told family and friends that we had decided to be foster parents we heard the same comment over and over again. This comment did not come from a place of malice or anywhere negative. The comment truly came from the individuals knee jerk response to the thought of bringing a kid into their home knowing, or at least suspecting, that the kid would not stay. At this point you might be asking yourself “What is the comment?”, or you might have figured it out already. The comment is 2 fold. 1 “it takes a special person to be a foster parent.” And 2 “I couldn't do it. I would get too attached.” If you have made this comment to me, or were nearby when someone did, I typically had the same replies each time. 1 “you never know what God has given you the ability to do until you try.” And 2 “the sad thing is that the kids need you to get attached. They need your love. They need that sense of security. They need every part of you if they are to grow from where they came from. If they are to heal from the physical and emotional scars that they may hold.” Of course when I make this comment I get responses that are similar to “how are you going to handle it when/if they leave?” To which I reply in the most honest way I can “I will be heart broken. I will sit on the couch and cry. But I know that is what they need and I choose to leave it all in God's hands. If a child that comes into our home is meant to be our 'forever kid' God will make that happen. If not then I take comfort in knowing that I am one small stepping stone on the path of their life”
So why the title of “from theory to practice” for this post? Well that is simple. I've had the theory of loving a kid and letting them go and now I am experiencing it. 6 months ago we had a precious 3 year old boy (M) come into our home. He initially came as a respite placement which means that we were pretty much just babysitting to allow his foster family a break. Well very shortly after he stepped into our home (I believe it was the day he came) the foster family said “that's it we are done. He cannot come back to our home” the reasons behind this are not clear and for the most part, after living this roller coaster I can understand the desire to have your life back and not live every moment questioning what is going on in CPS land. I don't blame them much at all. So, after a short while, long story short, we accepted M as our first “long term placement” knowing that his goal was to be returned to family. Our exact words to his caseworker were “he has a home with us. We plan on riding out his case to the very end. No matter what that end may hold.” As M's case progressed it began to look more and more likely that we would end up being able to adopt. In fact we received a phone call on New Year's Eve from his caseworker and she informed us that, although a home study had been completed to see if biological grandfather could get him, she anticipated it not working and, in that case, that we would be adopting by April. This completely caught us off guard since we believed, rightfully so, that his case would drag on for years, since that is not uncommon. Well a little over a week after that phone conversation we received a text message from the worker that simply stated that the home study had recommended moving M to be with grandad and that she anticipated the judge agreeing. She then said, assuming the judge agreed, that they would be moving him in roughly 2 weeks.
So yeah. Here we are. We have gone from the theory of welcoming a kid into our home. Loving that child as our own. Teaching him right from wrong. Dealing with some significant health issues. Managing some intense behaviors at times. Giving him a world full of experiences. Introducing him to our family and friends. Having our family grow to love him and so on and so on. All of that and a “thank you. You 2 have done wonders for him and we (CPS) can never thank you enough.” Needless to say all of this caught us off guard and to try and put all the different emotions into words is beyond difficult. I found myself talking with a friend the other day she inevitably said “I couldn't do it. You're a special person. I would get too attached” in response I said these words:
I know and they need that. Can you imagine if they didn't have anyone to attach to. No one to care. I know that he needs/needed it. It is just SOO drastically different to go from the theory of bringing a child into the home, loving them, teaching them right from wrong, potty training them, spending days on dealing with medical issues with them ect ect ect and then letting them go. In theory I know I am doing the right but hard thing but in practice it makes me feel used and trampled all over. Like I have wasted 6months of my life. But at the same time I know that is not true and I am thankful. I am thankful for every second I have had with him. Thankful for the times that he made me smile. Thankful for letting me hear his laugh when he called me “daddy” and then giggled because he knew I was “Mr. Matt”. Thankful for those time that he made me mad and pushed me to my limit. Thankful for helping me grow as I helped him grow. Thankful for teaching me what it truly means to love with all my heart without really expecting or receiving anything in return. I am happy. I am sad. I am mad. I feel lost. But at the same time I know that I would do every little thing over again. That I wouldn't trade it for the world. I also know that some day, hopefully soon, after a short break, I will do it again. I know there are other kids that need that love. That need that security. That need me to cry out from a broken heart because of them. I know that. I also know that I can do it. No mater how hard it is… Will any future kid take the place of M? No. And I wouldn't want them too. I will forever hold him in my heart whether I meet him again or not.
There you have it. That big jumbled mess of emotions, thoughts, and desires. If you can make sense of it all please explain it to me. Just know, as confusing as this all may sound to you. I will do it again and I encourage you to as well. Will it be a walk in the park? Will the road be nice and smooth with no bumps, twists, or turns? Will you have your heart broken? Will you want to scream and yell because you feel no one is listening, like you have no voice in your life or the life of the little one you have grown to love? Yes. Yes. Yes. And yes. However, what you will get back from it all is something that words cannot describe. Something you have to experience to understand. Call me a glutton for punishment but I am ready to get back in line for this roller coaster. I don't know the name of the next ride. I don't know how long the wait will be. I don't know how many loops it will have or when it will stop. However, I know that when that ride comes to a full and complete stop I will be laughing and crying and wanting to do it again.
Finally, enough about me. I have one prayer that I hope you all join me in. My prayer is that God will hold M close and help him learn and grow. Help him become the amazing man that he can be. That He will let the seed of love that we placed in him flourish as it is watered by the love he receives from his biological family. I pray that, even if he forgets who we are, that he carries that love with him from now until eternity. I pray that some day he too will have the chance to share that love and to know what love really is. In the words of a new favorite song of mine by Toby Mac, “this is what love is. Poured out. Used up. Stretching out to the end of my limits. This is harder than I thought it would be. This is what love is.” We love you M. God bless you and every life you touch just as you have touched ours.
