« Getting Back Up | Main | Park Convo »

05 July 2011



It was easier for us than most to empathize, I think, because our foster daughter Mara's mother had some things in her history we knew about that made it make sense she'd struggle with depression and with trusting herself to keep her child safe. I haven't had to deal with the parents of other young kids and think that it's easier with older kids, who have their own perspectives.


Ah. Been there, am there, will be there. Those 3am (and with newborns in withdrawal there's an awful lot of night wakings!) moments are usually a complete mix of emotions. Anger, sadness, hope, exhaustion. I don't think, despite my ability to successfully 'inclusive foster parent', that it will ever get easier or less complicated. I have become okay with the constant clamoring of emotions, the oddness of it all.

For me, a huge help is meeting the parents face to face. I find it very hard to hate (and let's face it, there are times where you can have hateful feelings) a parent I have met as a person. A name is easier to judge, and easier to give up on.

Remember this is a long journey, inclusivity and fostering. It's messy, and you almost never have perfect rainbow smiley moments. But you can do it, I promise.

I think i feel inspired to post about it, I have so many more thoughts! Let me leave it that while we have never met before, I am so glad you have chosen to engage this chaos called inclusive fostering. Even when it feels like you're failing, you are still trying. And man alive, there needs to be more of us who try.



It's hard. We became foster parents with the goal to eventually adopt. Our first placement was ever so difficult, but with the support of our SW we made it. We made it through sporadic parental visits, therapy, sibling visits, ADHD, and we still made it in the end when ICWA took over. I didn't think I could go through everything again to get to our goal of adopting, but 2 months later we got the call for our daughter an adoptive placement at 13 months old. I'd like to say the rest is history, but it's not. I still worry about D, I still think of him on the day we got him, Oct. 31, his birthday, and the day his grandmother came to get him and drive him 300 miles away. You do what you have to do, you give love, stability, and a piece of your heart. Even if you never get that piece back you hope that you touched that child in a positive way, that will last a lifetime.


As usual reading your blog is so interesting. Thank you for cutting a little hole into your world so I can peep in!

The comments to this entry are closed.