On un-becoming a foster mom. (And being real about it.)

So, we’re not foster parenting anymore.  At least, we won’t be taking the two specific children we were asked about on Monday morning.  We’re on a list, so we could quite possibly be called this week with an emergency placement. At this point, who even knows?

I keep getting texts/calls/questions from people in very sympathetic voices with big eyes, saying, “Are you okay?  How are you doing with this?”  And the answer?  I’m doing fantastic!!  We’re not getting these kids because there is a family out there, better suited than ours, that wants them for life.  FOR LIFE.  And instead of shuffling them here and then there and somewhere else, these kids have a chance to stay in one place from now until forever.  Without all the crap that made the department take them away in the first place.  How in the world can I be mad about that??

And here’s the other thing, and you other adoptive moms can maybe speak to this, too. I’m still calling them mine.  I know their story.  I know their situation, and where they’re coming from, and I know that there is a God out there who cares about them and needs somebody praying for them, and surely I’m as good as any to be the one praying for them now and for years to come.  In fact, we’ve been matched four times already, and though none of it has worked out, you can bet that all these children will be called by name in my prayers asking Him to provide warmth, love, and stability.  Because what they don’t tell you when you get matched is you get so much information on these kids that you learn just enough about their lives to want to see them succeed, but not enough to have all your questions answered.  It’s a weird dynamic, this matching thing, and it’s doing a lot in my heart.

So I won’t be a foster mom.  At least not tomorrow.  At least not to those kids.  But I just know that my children our out there.  I believe it.  I have to.  For their sake and ours.  And at the end of this whole journey, when I bring my children home, and cuddle them at night, and wish them sweet dreams, and make them PB&J for their lunch, and drop them off at soccer practice, I will never ever forget this roller coaster of a journey.  I will be so thankful that it brought me my children–the ones I get to tuck in bed and the ones I get to tuck in my heart.

On a semi-related side note:

Recently I’ve been getting a lot of questions/comments in real life and online about how I seem to always tell people things only to have to backtrack later.   I’m pregnant!  No I’m not.  We’re adopting!  No we’re not.  I’m fostering!  No I’m not.  How truthful am I really being?  Have I ever heard of discretion?  Why not wait until things pan out?

And here’s my thoughts.

First, what’s the fun in keeping news to yourself?  I like to share my happy news!  And if that means I have to also relate some bad news in between, well, so be it.

Around the beginning of the year there was this giant blogger crusade of people everywhere taking pictures of their dirty houses and posting them with long thoughts about how their blogging space/pics may seem cute and pretty and perfect but of course real life doesn’t reflect that, here’s a pic to prove that to you.  And everyone got on their blogger soapbox and made the call for more people to be real and let everyone know that we’re not as perfect as our coded layout makes us seem.

And while I guess that maybe was awesome and “life-changing” for some, I think we’re all stupid if we–as people or bloggers–assume that those around us picture us a perfect.  Because no one is.  And we all know half the pictures posted are staged. There’s no way you can live like that.  But once that little crusade was over, everyone just went back to blogging about the pretty things again.

Life happens.  I love talking about my miscarriage, because so many people don’t and someone should (although it makes people wicked uncomfortable) and because it has changed my entire life.  I love talking about getting kids and then not getting kids because that’s just how the system operates, and again why would I want to keep the awesomeness to myself?  I enjoy telling people the bad parts and the good parts, because we all have a story to tell, and it usually tells itself better than if we edit it beforehand.

So just expect a lot more posts about how life is awesome! and then the posts on how I take it back!  because, well, life is awesome, and then it’s not.  But then it will be again.


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