Hey there babies,
Well, y’all aren’t really babies anymore…are you? You’re actually more like little 3 and 4 year olds now. But to me, you’re still babies, little tiny ones. Ones that all fit in the palms of our hands.
Please forgive me babies, because over the past 3 years, I haven’t thought about you often. Not because I didn’t love you, but because thinking of you makes my heart hurt and it makes me cry. And honestly? It makes me feel guilty to think about you guys.
Not that I had any control over you going back to the people you were taken from, I definitely did not, but I have guilt for loving you so fiercely for the time you were in our homes and then having no trace of you around after you’re gone. And I feel guilty for not staying a foster parent. Maybe if we would have stayed foster parents, we’d get to have you back if you ever entered the system again.
Instead, I pray that you didn’t ever enter the system again. I pray that when you went home, it was for real that time. That you got to be happy and grow up safe and healthy. I pray for you three a lot. Even you, my little “Alphabet”, my one I know actually did get adopted by a different foster family. I pray they were the right home for you. I know God has his hand in all of it and I know all thee of you are growing big in His eyes. I just wish it was in my eyes too sometimes.
I do still love you all, I do think about you and pray for you. I know you weren’t meant to be mine forever, but I’m so thankful you were mine for a little while.
This time of year always weighs a little harder on us. We became foster parents for the first time on Halloween 2013 and took ourselves out of the foster system one year after. Losing three babies back into the system was hard, so hard. I wanted to bond with the baby we just adopted and my heart was having a hard time. So we stopped and said we’d go back in a few months later.
We never did. Every six months we revisit the subject and every six months we say no. And every six months I break down over my three babies.
This year I’m also finding how much bitterness my heart is still holding on to and how much of it I’m harnessing towards foster parents that never had to give their babies back, they just got to adopt the ones they had. Instead of rejoicing with them like I should, I become hateful and bitter. I allow my heart to turn cold against them and I cut them out and I’m sorry. I’m working on it. This journey isn’t easy for anyone, in any way. Even for the ones that never had to give their babies back, they still had to live in fear. I know that. I know things weren’t sunshine and roses the whole time, I know. I’ll get there someday.
Today I walked away from a conversation with a friend who told me she feels a call to her heart to foster, feeling ashamed of how I behaved. I could feel the bitterness pouring out of me. I’m ashamed. Those kiddos, really the world, needs people with kind hearts who want to be there. I pray that my bitterness didn’t go home with her.
Today was ‘Reclaimed Sunday’ at the church I’ve been attending by my house and I forgot. I walked through the doors and simply just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sit in on a day all about fostering and adoption right now, my bitterness wouldn’t allow it. So I sat in the lobby.
I know as the years go by, the days will be different. For all I know, I could have adopted 17 kids by this time next year, whatever God plans for us. (Oh sweet God, I truly beg of you not to)
If you reach out to a friend and you’re met with bitterness, please know that there is something bigger going on. Make sure you never let that bitterness truly affect you. Stay true to what you feel in your heart. ❤