It was a simple question that started the fight.
He looked over at me from where he was standing, cooking at the stovetop in the kitchen. "Did you think it would be different with the babies after we let them go."
My response: "What do you mean different?"
His reply: "Did you think we would see them more or check on them more or be a bigger part of their lives?"
And then I got defensive....
"What is that supposed to mean? I don't know what I thought it would be like. We had to distance ourselves for a while. We had to let them be okay where they were. And then we had a baby and moved and yeah, I guess maybe I thought it would be different."
And then we fought. Over nothing.
I felt guilty because maybe I should have checked on them more. But what do you say, "hey how are the babies we let go of so you could fall in who would eventually have to go back to their birth mom even though we thought you'd be able to have them forever?"
Yeah how does that conversation go?
I know it's not my fault. But I can't help but wonder what would have happened if we hadn't decided to let them go.
Maybe I would have been able to finally get to their birth mom. We were slowly gaining her trust. Maybe eventually something would have clicked.
Or maybe we would have been able to make a case for how incredibly unstable she is, and then we would have been able to pass them over to an adoptive home.....or maybe we wouldn't have given them up at all if given the chance to make them ours. I dunno what we would have done. I really don't.
But imagining it brings tears to the brims of my eyes. (Just wait....they'll fall.)
I don't know how to explain foster care to you in a way that makes sense. Maybe it's because it doesn't make sense even to me.
I know that we were very clearly called to it. I don't deny that at all, but there are days that I look back and wonder why on earth He ever would have called us to it, because I was not cut out for it most of the time.
I couldn't guard my heart. But then I tried to. And then I'd be angry. And then I'd be sad and before I knew it, I didn't know how I felt about it all.
In this moment and in many moments in the recent past, I have felt strong enough to do it again. I have felt like I want to and should and that there isn't any excuse big enough to keep us from it.
And in the very next instant I doubt that decision because it was (and is) so so hard.
I cannot take back the nights that I held and rocked that baby to sleep.
I cannot take back the times that we took care of them when they were sick.
I cannot take back the sound of their voices calling us momma and dada.
I cannot take back the laughter, the tears, the questions, the love or the heartache.
And I am so incredibly grateful that those 2 babies are part of our story.
I still call them babies but they're not. They're getting so big. They're 2 and 3 now.
There are days I wish I could bring them back here. What if I could convince their momma that they would be better off with us? What if I could change her mind?
Foster care is hard. There is no denying that. But it has been one of the greatest adventures of my life. I learned more about myself in the 6 months that I had someone else's babies in my care then any other time.
Their story isn't over. I believe there is more. I know the Lord has great things in store for them. I don't doubt it for a second.
I can't see the plan. But that doesn't mean there isn't one in place.
Just me rambling. Writing what's on my heart and mind.
Thanks for listening. And thanks for loving my crazy.