This is about a very different type of mom guilt. One I am assuming that I don’t share with many.
Well, I’m 27 years old and no longer have that relationship to crawl back to, sooooo…
This Is Attachment.
It has been 131 days that I have known you might not stay with me, but it was made real 2 days ago.
The physical abuse stopped once I threatened to fight back. The shaming, the degrading, and the criticizing never ended. 27 years later I was given my reason.
It is a term I have heard him use to describe himself more than once.
“I couldn’t do it, I’d get too attached.” This is the single greatest excuse I have heard as to why people claim they aren’t fostering.
It was about 3 months into our journey as foster parents, when I had my “ah hah" moment.
Not That Mom.
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.