Our family is coming to the end of our first six months of fostering. In public, you can see people trying to do the math – four kids age five and under and I am quite obviously pregnant. What is their story? The more I live our particular story, the more I realize that most people’s families don’t look the way they expected. Like us, the families I see and wonder about probably came together as small “Okay, God. We’ll say yes to this next step”, rather than having the whole picture ahead of time.
Today, as I share the surprises from our initial experience as a foster family, it’s important to note that we are still very much in the thick of things. I’m writing while I’m still running the marathon and things are honestly really tough right now. Our two girls are transitioning back to living with their mom and it’s been complicated. I’m at the end of my pregnancy and the stress of this brand of parenting is taking its toll on me physically.
These are my reflections, not my expertise. I pray that readers will take something that encourages or challenges your own faith journey and leave behind the parts that don’t resonate with you. With that, here are Ten Surprises from Six Months of Fostering.
#1: The Amazing Support I’ve Received
From the first sharing that we were welcoming two sisters, I’ve been surrounded by such tangible support. People brought meals, helped me organize the house, and shared tips on large family management. My exercise buddy met at a playground each week and co-parented, holding and squat-lifting whoever was having a meltdown, so I could keep working out. I never considered that in choosing foster care, our parents -without being asked- became foster grandparents. My mother-in-law lives close by and without complaint treated our girls like her own grandchildren. We even went on vacation with her. She was gracious about the chaos we brought to her usually serene week at the beach. Recently, a friend has been loaning us a box of toys from her toy rotation so my kids have the novelty of different things to play with in the evenings when I’m trying to make dinner. Most of all, countless people have supported me by listening. I probably verbally process too much, but it really helps to have caring people listen.
#2: The Discomfort of Opening Our Home to Ministry
A friend who also fosters warned me that the first month would be chaotic. That was an understatement. Our home life went from being patterned and predictable to absolutely out of control. I could barely think straight with all the tantrums, crying and behavior issues during that rocky transition. So, I hid. A lot. I’d say, “I’m going to the bathroom all by myself and no one needs to follow me!” or “I feel overwhelmed and I need to cry in the garage! I love you and will come back when I’m calm!”
In the past, when I’ve done things in service of others, I’d go, serve, and then come home to my refuge. My things, my smells, my routines, just as I’d left them, waiting for me. With foster care, you open your door and let the outside world come and impact your safe, familiar world. The scrutiny of the licensing process should have been my first clue. After our home and lives were analyzed inside and out, my 24/7 life became surrendered to caring for two new family members. When someone is sick or crying in the middle of the night, you can’t say, “Oh, I’m not serving right now. I need my sleep.” I’ve had to redirect my need for refuge and find it internally, through prayer and trusting God’s presence.
#3: How Little I Know About Helping Kids in Trauma
I don’t have a lot to say about this one, except I’ve wished I knew more about how to help kids in trauma. Our little girls are very much like other kids in their need for guidance and love. But they have also been deeply impacted by trauma and have reactions that take me by surprise. Once, while Jeff was traveling, I took our boys and our older foster daughter to my parents’ house in Seattle for the week (our younger foster daughter stayed with their aunt and uncle). The first night, our daughter couldn’t eat her dinner because she was crying uncontrollably. It took about an hour to get her breathing normally. She couldn’t communicate what was wrong. In the morning, she gave me more insight when she asked, “Is this where I’m going to live now? Will I get to see [little sister] again?” From then on, we did a daily check-in. “This is Grammy and Papa’s house. We don’t live here. We are visiting and will go back to Yakima on Sunday (count the days on our fingers) and see sister, and mom, and auntie, and uncle…” Whenever life changes, each girl has her own way of dealing with it and we’ve had to learn how to help.
#4: Being the Bad Guy
Speaking of helping with changes, the next surprise is being the bad guy. By this I mean, Jeff and I have to stay as consistent as possible in our boundaries and our love for the kids. I used to teach fourth grade next door to the school’s classroom for kids with behavior needs. I remember hearing that teacher tell a new student, “One thing you’ll love about me and hate about me is this: I’m consistent. I do what I say I’m going to do. You can count on it.” I keep thinking about that. It really stinks to be the one who puts a child in time out for the tenth time that day – for the same misbehavior too. It stinks to hold the kids to balanced eating, bedtime, respectful language, and cooperating with each other. The girls like to remind me how things are different at their mom’s house, what she allows that I don’t. It sometimes feels like she’s Disneyland and Jeff and I are boot camp. It stinks, but it’s also okay. We hope our consistency in discipline will serve as a safe boundary for the kids.
We hope they equally feel the consistency of our love. Recently, I picked the girls up from daycare and they had a discouraging behavior report for the third time that week. One daughter had screamed for and hour and ran away from the teacher, while the other daughter smacked a toddler in the head with a toy. I was frustrated. I want a break from all these behavior issues. Our five-year-old son piped up from the far back seat. “Hey girls, you get love no matter what. If you’re good or naughty, you still get love. I’m sad though ‘cuz now you don’t get treats today and it would be cool if we could go to Dairy Queen.” It was pretty incredible to hear what Jeff and I have been trying to communicate at least got through to one of the kids, and he was able to express it in his own words.
#5: This is a Family Ministry
Our sons have been such an important part of caring for the girls. A while back, Jeff and I read a book about serving others as a “family on mission”. We’ve been inspired to include our kids in service opportunities and make it a lifestyle. Nothing has ever encompassed this ideal like foster care. Before taking this path, we talked about it a lot with our boys. Our younger son was still two at the time, so he didn’t have much to say. Our older son, now five, has been especially amazing to watch. He calls the girls his sisters and cares about them deeply. He has insights beyond his years. One day, he told me, “You know why I think [little sister] is so naughty all the time? I think she’s mad that she can’t live with her mom but she doesn’t know how to tell us that. So, she throws toys instead.” Our three-year-old son has struggled more with sharing mom and dad with others, but he’s still growing through this and being a fantastic brother.
#6: That My Marriage Could Grow Stronger Through the Pressure
I anticipated that foster care would create stress in our marriage. I’m surprised that we are coming through this stronger than before. Jeff has been an anchor of sorts. I say “of sorts” because I want to forever refrain from putting my husband in God’s rightful place. Jeff is human. He is not my rock or my savior. But God daily shows me His love through Jeff’s incredible hard work and giftedness as a father and husband. We are in this craziness together. This weekend, the girl’s visits with their mom were unexpectedly cancelled. In addition, both girls came down with pink eye. I tried to soothe the girls with a bath and realized we didn’t have hot water. So, picture a tub of cold water, two naked girls (one crying and having a potty accident on the carpet), our son downstairs having a tantrum, and Jeff and I trying to talk over it all and figure out a doctor’s appointment plan. This is the stuff that makes for learning efficient communication! At the end of the day, I’m so incredibly grateful to fall asleep holding Jeff’s hand and praising God that our bond has remained through the day’s trials.
#7: Connecting with a Greater Community
I’m surprised at how fostering has connected us to people we wouldn’t normally meet. The girls came with a village. I’m in contact with their aunt and uncle most weeks, their grandma has taken them for a weekend when I needed respite, and their daycare teachers are wonderful. They have a social worker, a counselor, a guardian ad litum, and others looking out for their best interest. I even thought that it would be hard to let strangers drive the girls to their visits, but the drivers aren’t strangers. They are almost like extra aunts and uncles – the girls know them and look forward to seeing who’s going to pick them up. “Is it Tracy or Javier? I want to see Tracy!”
#8: Battling My Perceptions of Their Mom
Many times, it feels like she gets to flake out and change things that affect my life and I’m supposed to remain steady and available. I get angry about potty training her little one, only to have her come home from a visit wearing a soggy diaper instead of dry undies. When her daughters get upset with me being the bad guy and cry for their mom, I have to bite my tongue. I want to say, “Well, she cancelled and I didn’t have a choice!” When we were on vacation, we called birth mom three different times so she could stay in touch. The girls were hyper and not focused on the call, so I ended up chatting some with birth mom to fill the gaps. Like the Zoom meeting, it served to soften my heart for her as a fellow mom working through some life hurdles.
The thing that is currently helping me when I feel like I’m done with this whole process is God’s reminder that I’m not doing this for birth mom. I’m meant to serve Him. Colossians 3:23-24 says, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.” If I potty-train for birth mom, I’m going to ultimately be resentful. If I potty-train as an expression of love for my Savior, I’m going to be at peace. If I alter my weekend plans for birth mom, I’m going to grumble. If I alter my weekend plans for God, I’m going to look for what He planned in the detour.
#9: God Has Stretched Me to Fill Big Shoes
Back in February, this role felt like when I was little and clomped around the house in my mom’s shoulder padded dress and beige high heels. It didn’t fit. I wasn’t enough. Every day, every week, every month, I’m glad I didn’t quit. God has been stretching me to fill this multi-faceted job. I’m proud that I can get four kids dressed, fed, wiped and out of the house by 8:30am with fewer tantrums than before. I have moments where old Brooke wouldn’t recognize current Brooke’s skills. It’s still incredibly tough, but God is supernaturally growing me through this experience.
#10: It’s Okay for Multiple Feelings to Occupy the Same Space
If you’ve read this far, hooray! You made it to number ten! This is the most vulnerable surprise I have to share. In choosing foster care, I heard numerous people comment, “I could never do that because it would be too hard to say goodbye.” That comment has run through my head again and again, bringing a lot of shame. I thought I would instantly feel like a mother to any foster child in my home. That hasn’t been true for me this time. I thought I would struggle with letting them go at the end. That hasn’t been 100% true either.
Especially at the beginning, the girls felt foreign to me. It was not the same as loving my biological kids. I have loved the girls time and time again, as a surrender amidst a lack of oozy gushy feelings. It’s hard to admit that. There are times, like today, when the girls took turns playing with my hair, when things felt more natural and family-like. It’s still been obvious that they are not really mine. They adore their birth mom and miss her terribly. It’s not my spot and I’ve never aspired to take her place.
Fostering has required so much from our family and I’m very tired at this point. I’m anticipating our newborn’s arrival next month and I’ve struggled with managing my stress during pregnancy. My body is in pain and I’m tired. Saying goodbye and letting the girls go home to their mom feels like relief right now. It feels like I might have a little space to breathe before the new baby comes.
Then, last weekend, I packed some of the girls’ clothes and toys to take to their mom’s house. I was holding a little Frozen themed dress with a lump in my throat. Unexpected mama bear protectiveness crept up on me. I hope they’ll be okay. I hope their mom is really recovered and ready to be there for them.
I’ve decided it’s okay to feel multiple things at once. Relief and grief can exist in the same space. Love can look like taking them to a doctor’s appointment today and entrusting them to their mom tomorrow. It’s okay that I can’t say yes indefinitely. That aunt and uncle will step in if birth mom needs it from here so I can focus on having a healthy birth and newborn time. It’s okay that all these things exist together.
Our family will likely take a break from fostering for now. It’s not a closed door, but something to prayerfully reconsider later. I’m glad we did a season of it. I don’t want to spend my whole life maintaining my precious comfort zone at all costs. I can see God’s strength in the stretching parts and I now feel His grace in releasing us to rest again for a while. It’s been hard and it’s been good.
