Still Waiting…

We still haven’t heard when BB’s adoptive placement hearing will be (he will be in “adoptive placement” instead of “foster care” before the adoption is finalized), but the wait doesn’t seem so bad. I can see the very bright light at the end of the tunnel that will bring an end to the uncertainty of forever. Earlier this month, we had our yearly reports completed. They look through EVERYTHING in your home and make sure EVERYTHING is in order. There are so many rules to remember! It will be nice to just live our lives more like a traditional family again.

Foster Care brings so many different people into the mix:

1. We have a social worker from our Foster Family Agency (FFA).

2. There is a County Social Worker (CSW).

3. The kids have an attorney and attorney representative.

4. Often times, there are developmental delays with foster children, so there can be multiple therapists for that.

5. There are birth parents. Birth parents usually retain all rights to the children (until their rights are terminated).

6. The birth extended family is often involved, as well. It’s not typical for them to get court appointed visitation, but nobody wants an angry birth family, so it’s best to oblige, if possible.

7. The birth parents have an attorney, also.

8. There is an adoption worker from the county that works to find potential permanent homes if need be.

On the plus side, I’m rarely Alone!

Most of these people are all up in my grill. They visit the children, judge the efficiency of our care, make rules/suggestions of what to do/change, all the while making plans behind our backs. It’s like having at least 8 stereotypical mother-in-laws (but not like my mother-in-law, I actually love her). Plus, we have to hear opinions from our own family and friends which are, at times, not very supportive.

Deciding to foster warrants a very hot or cold response from loved ones. Some were so supportive and made me feel like a superhero, while others were completely against it and made me fear for my own life. It’s the biggest emotional roller coaster I’ve ever been on. It doesn’t help that I feel like I’m walking on eggshells all the time.

Whenever BB gets a bump or bruise or scrape (which anyone with a toddler knows can happen a lot!), I have to report it. It makes me feel like a bad person being interrogated every time. They ask me how it happened, when it happened, to send a picture, and then tell me if I need to take him to urgent care or not. The worst is when I know he’s completely fine, but I have to load everybody up in the van, take him to urgent care, and wait for hours with little ones because someone else said so.

I understand why they have to do that, but it’s very irritating to me. I guess because it makes me feel like they don’t trust my judgment or my abilities to mother. Obviously, that’s not true or I wouldn’t be allowed to have any children at all, but in that moment, I feel like a bad mom.

Foster care makes me feel like a bad mom all the time.

There are, at any given moment, at least 8 people hardcore judging my mom skills. It’s funny because I’ve literally been trained and vetted to be a mother to children who have no one. But, having no one doesn’t make me feel very special.

“Oh. There’s NO ONE to take these kids, I guess you can take them.”

When people say how great I am for being a foster mom, I cringe a little. I don’t feel great. And anyway, I started doing it for a selfish reason. I wanted another baby, but couldn’t have one of my own. That’s not really all that honorable. I guess all’s well that ends well, and these babies at least have a safe place to live for a while. Eventually, I realized, since I’m only fostering infants, if they go back home, I really haven’t helped them much because they’re too little to remember the heartfelt chats we had over their morning milk. That’s where a difficult mind shift happened. I am fostering to help the birth parents, not really the children.

I’m giving them time to get on their feet and understand what sacrifices are required of them to be “good” parents. It’s A LOT of sacrifice to be a “good” parent. It’s also a lot of fun, but not fun like Whoo hoo fun; Fun like super cute fun. You know what I mean. If I feel like a bad mom after being APPROVED to take care of children, I can’t imagine how they feel after having children taken away. Talk about a punch to the gut and a twisted knife in the heart.

It’s so hard to be a mom. Good or bad. We all struggle to find what makes a “good mom” good. Yes, some things are obvious, like don’t do drugs or beat your children, but most people don’t WANT to do that to their children. They are overwhelmed and don’t know what else to do. Most moms are not bad, but some make very bad choices. I know I’ve made a bad choice or two. Whoa. Maybe I’m a certain kind of feminist or something.

Mom power!

But, seriously, God has always looked out for me. Even when I didn’t give a rip about Him. As I look back on all the “mishaps,” “misfortunes,” “accidents,” and “mistakes” I’ve made in my life, I see how God has used them to create beautiful things I never knew I needed. Out of the inability to procreate properly, he has given me so much knowledge about myself (and the lives of others) I would have never been able to understand otherwise. He has ripped open old wounds and healed them from the inside out. I’ve never been so raw than I have been in this experience. I mean, I feel like I have sewn my heart on my shoulder. Sometimes it got punched, and sometimes it got a hug. And now, it is wide open, and ready, and patiently waiting to give and receive the love of a child forever.

Mom Power!

Have fun tomorrow!