The Road to You

From every couple hour feedings, to sitting up, to first foods, to the Christmas trip to see our family. For almost a whole year you were part of us. We were family. I picked a forever name for you. I wrestled with fear and love. To not be able to love you forever scared me, and to need to be your forever scared me too. What if you needed more than I had to give?

I’ve written about our story. I’ve written you notes over the years. I’ve sent your baby book to you. I still don’t know who you are, where you are, or how you are. I don’t like that. If you’re good, of course, I would love to hear that. But since I don’t know, I assume you aren’t ok. I worry I’m part of your pain. I worry you think something inside of you made me choose to not stay forever. It’s not true you know.

What I believe about myself, and what you may believe about how I felt about you….a lot of lies are involved.

I feel like a failure. I feel like I shouldn’t have said yes if I couldn’t say yes forever. But I gave you all that I had for much longer than I even thought possible. At the end I prayed that God would put you exactly where you were supposed to be. He hadn’t chosen to make me strong enough to continue like I had been begging Him to do. You were innocent and I couldn’t bear the thought that you would hurt because of me. I had to believe that God would be kind and loving and place you in a space that was better than what I could offer. I still hope that He did.

You were a baby. You had to be so confused about where we all went and why?! I hate it so much to think about. All those thoughts hurt to this day.

I think about you on your birthday, your leaving us day, and your coming to us day. Not every year, every day. But, most years the sadness hits me on one of those days.

I can only hope that we can spend an eternity in a place of peace and wholeness that this world doesn’t hold.

I don’t think I’ll ever stop being sad. I miss what it felt like to love you, know you, and dream of a forever with you. Now, I can only recall what it felt like to leave you. Let you down. Choose to let go. Hardest thing I’ve been asked to do in this lifetime thus far.

Backstory:

I was a foster mom. I was and am also a biological mom, and an adoptive mom. I have loved many little ones, but the one I spoke of above came at birth and spent five days short of first year of life with us as our foster love. We felt like family in every sense of the word. I dreamed of a forever with birth family, and when that didn’t seem to be the way the story would end, I dreamed of a forever with us.

I know that what I did in that year mattered. The love. The care. The advocacy. All of it mattered. I didn’t leave anything undone, except forever. I wanted to be it, and I couldn’t.

I learned that I’m not the answer to the world’s problems, and if I try to be in my own power then I will only create more problems. I’m forever glad for all I learned through my hardest life experience, and that little love will forever be in my heart and on my mind.

I needed to write today as it was all on my mind again.

To love someone well for as long as you can is a very worthwhile endeavor. I do wish more people would step into the world of foster parenting. It’s scary. It’s painful. It’s joy-filled. It’s exciting. It’s love in action. It’s work. It’s worthwhile.

Yes, you will get hurt.

I did.

He was, and always will have been, worth the pain.