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
A big part of the community connection is the birth
mom. While much of her life is kept
private from me, we are still connected through her daughters. I saw her once on a Zoom meeting and she
looks exactly like her four-year-old daughter, in twenty-six-year-old woman
form. Seeing a reflection of the little
face I tuck into bed each night softened my heart towards her. I have been surprised by the struggle to
believe the best of birth 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.
