I knew of him in high school, but neither one of us really knew the other. Little did we know that April 2014 would be the beginning of our love story. It is not some love at first sight or fairy tale story but it is ours. This man sent me a message on Facebook,… Continue reading He’s Mine.
It was about 3 months into our journey as foster parents, when I had my “ah hah" moment.
I’ll never be that mom.
We were committed to saying yes for as long as we were needed, for as long as we were helping, for as long as we were called.
January 5, 2017, we got the call for an emergency placement for a 4-year-old boy. The call was for you. You came to us with the clothes on your back and a shy smile on your face.
To say yes to the child whose behaviors were too extreme for the last parent to handle. To care for them as your own. To answer all the nosy people’s questions. To justify your actions to people who have met your children a handful of times.
I understand that in your mind these words make you feel less than, or that somehow your family isn't a family because it wasn't built on blood. That's not what you believe, but that's how you feel other people think.
It's called compartmentalization, and I became pretty good at it. I was able to separate my home life and life at basic. At least while we were busy.
It’s emotional and wonderful, but it’s not different. Not yet.
The next day she arrived. The all too familiar knots in my stomach were there as I waited. But something was different this time.