Here We Go Again...

The call came Monday evening. The magistrate has ordered longer, more frequent visits for bio-mom in preparation for sending the babies home-three weeks later on June 1st.

I'm sort of at a loss as how to proceed from here (with my blog post). I hate this part of fostering. The children leaving, I mean. But, I also hate the telling of everyone. There are always questions that I just don't feel up to answering. I'm trying not to cry.

The reactions seem to be divided into two camps. On one hand, I have those who are genuinely sympathetic to how I feel and those who I know are relieved that another placement has left without being adopted. I've had to face the fact that many people are not on board with what we're doing. And that hurts. No one wants to have their life choices criticized, either openly or with subtle comments.

Anyone who has known me for any length of time knows that I've wanted a larger family. Perhaps not the 16 children I claimed in my youth, but many children, none the less. Anyone who has ever looked into adoption outside of foster care would know that it's so expensive as to be prohibitive to many and I refuse to solicit funds from friends and relatives to fund it though I've read that this is not an uncommon practice. Foster care affords us the chance to adopt with little cash cost. Unfortunately, it comes with a high emotional cost. Except in rare cases, one must foster-to-adopt young children. The goal of the state is to reunite very young children with their biological parents (usually mothers) and so that is the chance you take when you take a placement.

And that's where I'm at right now. The high emotional cost. I know that many, many people had misgivings about us taking in infant triplets. I'm sure that I didn't hear most of what people were really thinking. But actions can tell us a lot, too. The stilted conversations. People who have stopped chatting with us regularly. The high emotional cost began, this time, the moment those babies crossed our doorstep. Not only was I giving my heart to the babies, not knowing if they would stay, but I was somewhat alienating family/friends who weren't so sure we were making a wise decision.

I suppose what I'm trying to say is, this is the life I have chosen. I have to suffer the consequences, whether they be good or bad. But, what I pray and hope for from those in our life is understanding.

• Understanding that this is my/our grieving time. I/we grieve deeply every time a child leaves this house.
• Understanding that this is something I/we want to do. No, it's not for everyone, but just because it's not for you doesn't mean it's not for me/us.
• Understanding that we'll do it again once we have time to grieve and come to terms with this move.
• Understanding that if this move home doesn't work out for them, we'll gladly take them back.