Fear and My Own Broken Promises

We’re praying our way through the inquiry process of 7 and 13 year old siblings that God has planted in our hearts. I’ll be honest. It’s terrifying to think of starting to parent/build trust/love a kid that late in the game! The fear is paralyzing. I'm supposed to make a call to the kids' worker to set up meetings with their foster parents for more information. I can't quite make myself pick up the phone. 

Here's the kicker. I felt something with these two. Not "Oh, they're beautiful!" Although they most definitely are! Not the "I want to scoop them up because their stories are sad." Although I do, and they are. In my heart of hearts, I felt that this time was for real. 

I promised myself things over and over in the last couple years. We would never foster. We wouldn't get attached to a kid before we were chosen as their adoptive placement. We wouldn't entertain legal-risk placements. We wouldn't consider older children. Oh, the things I promised! 

One by one, I've let go of every promise I made to myself... and now we're standing with one promise left- 

Follow God's plan and don't box him in.

Receiving Respite

Respite care. We've provided it, and now we're getting to see what life is like on the other side. Amos and I are attending a foster care/adoption conference this weekend. We registered for the conference two months ago, about three weeks before the girls came. Until a week ago, we had accepted that we wouldn't be able to attend, but one last effort led to another, and we found ourselves in the receiving end of respite care. We were in licensing classes with the family, and we've sent a few facebook messages back and forth recently. I'm so thankful to have had those opportunities to get to know them. I feel very comfortable leaving our girls with them.

We delivered a crib on Tuesday evening to the home where the girls will stay and gave them a chance to play a bit. Hopefully that will make the drop off go smoother. At least they won't be dropped on a complete stranger's doorstep. Since Tuesday, Big Sister has been asking nonstop if we can go to "Her" house now.

One hard part of respite is splitting the kids. I hate that we're sending the bios to my mom's and the girls somewhere else. We might have decided to split the kids between houses anyway (because who wants to ask someone to keep your FIVE kids overnight), but separating them into "old" and "new" makes me crazy.

All the work it took to arrange child care, pack bags for three different destinations, and prepare the kids has left me wondering if it's worth it. Then I think of Amos and how much I miss him. I know that we are both craving time to reconnect and take a deep breath. Sadly, it is all too easy to forget about each other in the crowd of kids and the endlessly busy schedules. I know that those first moments after the last goodbye will be worth all the hoops we've jumped through. Here's to 24 hours of adult interaction!

All Good Things Come to and End... Goodbye Honeymoon.

I haven't talked much about my bio kids, but today, I'm feeling the need to be open and honest about their adjustments. It has been a mess this week. 

When I heard that there would be an initial honeymoon phase to each placement, that seemed logical. And when I thought about that period coming to an end, I expected the foster kids to start acting out, pushing boundaries, and being generally less controllable. What I wasn't prepared for is that my own bio kids would also have a honeymoon phase, that their phase, too would end, and that there would be a surge of misbehavior once it did. This week was most definitely the end our our honeymoon in every area. 

The sisters were exactly what I expected: more defiant, more difficult to please, and more unhappy. They required more redirection, more affection, more discipline and more entertaining. All of this I was prepared for.

J has been a dream. She is helpful, loving, and selfless for all four of the other children. She has given me hugs when I was losing it and ushered Miriam away when she was needing extra attention. The biggest trouble with J has been my guilt over how much sacrifice she has made. She has stepped up to be a supporting parent, a nanny figure, and I have been so grateful but so sad for her all the same.

Miriam was ready to have her life back this week. She was tired of a three year old who was disagreeable. She was tired of being shoved off of her chair, tired of having her toys taken out of her hands, and tired of NOT being the baby of the family anymore. There were fights, there was shoving, and there were a few times when Miriam cried and asked me if they could leave because she didn't like them. 

Noah has been even more out of character than Miriam. I've been on my knees in tears, begging God for wisdom and guidance. Noah has been obstinate. He refuses to follow almost any direction. He gets enraged if he looses a privilege. And he screamed at the girls for wrecking an origami project he was working on. Once, I had to quarantine the girls in my room with a movie to give Noah enough space and time to calm down. It has been a hell of a week with him. I texted my sister during the worst of it, and she wrote back, "Sounds like Satan is trying to kick you in the knees today. I hope you kicked him back!" It was exactly what I needed to hear, and it has helped me tremendously to keep her words in mind since then. 

We are by no means through the woods of this transition. There are likely many more growing pains to endure. BUT I have been able to be more patient, more careful with my own behavior, parenting, and reactions to the stress. I've been praying for baby steps forward, and so far, God has been faithful. Today was still full of disputes, but the intensity of bad feelings has been far less that earlier in the week. 

Court on Tuesday determined that the girls would remain in the system; the next court date was set for the end of June. For Amos and I, this meant a huge deep breath. I thought I had gotten to a place of acceptance of long term care, but finding out that were were actually living it really rocked my world. I saw our Easter, our family vacation, and a dozen kids' extracurricular events altered. Even though I was aware of the huge possibility that the girls would need to stay, it was disappointing and sad to loose the simplicity that comes with our "base" family of five. It felt selfish to be focussing on my own loss when the girls and their family were dealing with so much devastation, but I think it's important to acknowledge and feel the emotions that come with fostering. Once I sat with the idea for a few days, it seemed less like loss and more like honoring a commitment. 

Yes, the honeymoon is over... for all seven of us.