Growing Family

Facing Challenges

I'm sitting here typing and un-typing, wanting to write but unable to write about what I need to process. The whole aspect of confidentiality in foster care is really challenging when you need to toss ideas around until you settle into some kind of understanding.

Maybe I can be vague enough...

We are still waiting to see more specialists to have a solid diagnosis, but basically, it looks like baby has a pretty serious and life-shaping special need.

We didn't see it at first. Now we do. We've been to a lot of appointments. We'll go to lots more.

For the last two months I've hardly told anyone because it wasn't definite...it might be temporary...please let him grow out of it... But the pediatrician has put a cold, hard handle on the condition. Officially diagnosed or not, the problem is there.

I didn't want to speak that limitation over his life. I didn't want to own that negative possibility for him. But like it or not, that is what we're dealing with now. I didn't want to speak it because I didn't want to believe it.

At this point the problem is becoming more and more apparent. Other people still don't really see it unless I say something, and then they see it right away.

And when I've mentioned the possibility of the need to people, their first reaction is often pity. Instant pity. "Oh you poor, poor baby" I heard today.

I'm starting to see why mothers with children that have special needs say "I don't want pity, I just want you to see my child for all that they are, not just their special need."

I mean, foster care + special needs = a pretty crap lot in life, right?

But that is only one way to look at it. Beyond labels and challenges and classification of family status he is just an absolutely amazing, beautiful baby. Any family would be lucky to call him son.

Our whole family just adores him and it is the privilege of a lifetime to care for him.

I don't want his current struggles to be the definitions of his life. I imagine him as a successful and healthy man one day, and these details are mere anecdotes in his life story.

I imagine that for him, and I also cry, choking on the condition he is experiencing. 

I need to get online and do some research. I can't approach things with him the same way as I did with my kids. I've just woken up to the fact that me being in denial actually hurts him because I'm not doing what he needs me to do to help him.

I never dreamed when I said "yes" at 2:30 in the afternoon, that I would be where I am now, facing what we are currently facing, but I am so glad that I did. 

Changing the World

When I was in junior high I was part of a church youth group that was experiencing a lot of growth. Kids were just pouring in and latching on to the message that was being championed by the leaders. They said we were world changers, that we would make history, and that we would do amazing things for God - even bigger things than their generation had done.

Life goes on and we grew up. We struggled through high school and choosing college or YWAM, missions trips and backpacking Europe, and choosing a major. We all knew we were supposed to do something amazing. Something absolutely ground-shaking. I couldn't find anything at school that seemed to fit that description.

In the face of real life, life that didn't look exciting or important, many, many of the kids who grew up hearing that message threw in the towel when it came to believing they would impact the world for Christ. It was a phase that they went through. It wasn't real in the long-run.

They were waiting for something electric, but it didn't come. What they didn't know, what the youth leaders didn't tell us, is that each life lived for Jesus changes the world, and even the most meaningful life can feel mundane.

When we first accepted Baby into our home in June, for the first time I felt that I was absolutely doing what I was meant to do with my life. It was a life-altering experience. 

I really wish I could show you pictures. When Baby came I didn't know if he would make it through the night. His pacifier covered 1/3 of his face. He was grey. I knew with every fibre of my being that I was fighting for his life. More than any person on the planet, I was fighting for him. Because I fought for him, he has leaped up the growth charts. While he is still facing challenges that we have yet to diagnose, he is fat and pink and happy, and he blows raspberries. 

I was living on a high, feeling that what I was doing with my life really mattered. I could physically see the difference my life was making. I grew into a new understanding of my purpose. It was amazing.

I still know all that to be true. I have crossed a line in this foster care experience where I have a new level of clarity about what my life is for. I feel so amazingly purposeful.

At the same time, even though I am doing this great thing that I am so excited about, it still boils down to the routine of diapers, bottles, tummy time and rocking, which aren't exactly thrilling activities. 

I am changing the world, I am making history by changing the course of this one life, I am giving my strength to my Father in Heaven. This is my sacrifice of praise. 

It doesn't always feel amazing. Sometimes in the night I can't get my eyes to come unglued while I'm feeding Baby. Other nights my spirit is on fire, interceding on his behalf. 

Changing the world doesn't always feel like something special. That's the bummer about what happened to so many of my friends from way back when. They kept waiting for some trumpet from heaven to tell them when they had really finally done it - when they had changed the world.

But changing the world isn't like that (most of the time). 

While I've become an advocate for foster care (and adoption, with a strong dose of "only if you've got a fire inside you"), I'm not telling everyone I meet that they should go out and foster or adopt.

I think each of us has something inside of our hearts that makes us sing, something that ignites our energy and passion. Something that we can't let go of no matter what. That thing is the thing we should be doing. For me it is connecting with children in need and nurturing a child that is hurting.

It doesn't have to be "important" or "spiritual" or fit in a church shaped box, it just has to make us come alive.

I wish I could go back in time and add a couple more layers the the message we received as kids. I would tell us to not worry about finding the thing that we think will make God happy with our life. I would tell us, instead, to go out and try lots of different things to look for that one thing that keeps bringing us back, messing with our heads, and pulling our hearts. It's when we partner that passion with the power of heaven that we have a life that changes the world, whether we feel electric or not.

 

Meeting

Tomorrow I have the opportunity to meet baby's mother for the first time. Up until now his caseworker picks him up and transports him to his contact visits. Tomorrow there is a meeting with the DOCs (Department of Childrens' Services) caseworker, the worker from the private agency we are signed up with, baby's mother and myself. I'm sure there will be other managers and supervisors, etc as well. 

It is my understanding that most of the time there is some level of animosity directed towards the foster family, from the family that has had the child removed. In our experience, baby's parents have been extremely positive. We have a communication book that we pass back and forth on visit days and almost every time it comes back with notes like "baby looks so happy and well cared for, thanks for doing such a good job with him until we can have him back with us" or "thanks for putting in 110% for baby!" 

They are always thanking us, complimenting how we're doing, sending gifts, and being polite when they are requesting something special (a certain outfit to wear, bath supplies for a visit, a change in formula, suggestion for homeopathic remedies). 

There have been some challenging moments but really they are so minor they hardly count. Our caseworker has noted that it is extremely rare for parents to be so positive and supportive of the foster parents that are caring for their child. We had the opportunity to host two of baby's family members in our home for a visit, and afterwards we received a call from our caseworker saying baby's mother had called, after her family member had called her, glowing about our family and how well cared for baby is. Hearing that report from her own family, baby's mother wanted our caseworker to call us just to say how glad they are baby is with us.

All that said, I don't know what tomorrow will bring.

Baby's mother and I are roughly the same age. Her life has been difficult. Mine is flourishing. I can't help but wonder how it will feel for us to sit at the same table together. She is fighting to get her life where she wants it. I am parenting my three children and caring for her child as well. I think that might be incredibly akward not to make comparisons. 

I've thought a lot about our different paths and how with the same years (nearly) on the planet, we are in such different places. I am so thankful that I grew up with a strong and loving family that protected and encouraged me. I am fortunate to have made it this far without experiencing abuse or trauma. I am in good health, and always have been. I have never been exposed to drugs or alcohol abuse in my formative years. I had a relationship with God from early on and looked for Divine guidance in my life. I married a really good man early on (19 years old!) and have had an amazing marriage for 11 years. I have never been in poverty. My husband worked really hard to put me through school, while also putting himself through graduate school. Somehow we've made a lot of good choices and not too many poor ones. 

I may have been born into a family that didn't have material wealth, but we had physical health, mental health, strong relationships, and a loving God. 

I know when I sit at that table tomorrow, I am not in the position I am in because I am special. I have been set up with layer after layer of success and privilege (privilege goes beyond monetary success), by grace. 

Our pastor often encourages us to "lend strength" to people that need it. The reality is that many of us are privileged and have a lot to offer. Simply sharing our peace and stability with people who are in the middle of a stormy patch in life, can make a difference. That's what foster care is for us - sharing the peace and stability of our home and our family environment with a child that needs to harbour for awhile; by extension, the child's family may be strengthened as well. 

I don't really know what to anticipate. I'm really thankful for some great social workers to guide us through!

Fake it Till you Make It

Foster care is just a rough gig. I don't know who thought of this. The further in I get, the less sense it makes.

Even though the baby started sleeping through the night this week, being a foster carer has taken up a growing amount of my brain space and emotional energy. 

My friends ask me how things are going and I chat in generalities, aloof, even as I'm talking about how hard it is. I don't tell them (or my husband), that sometimes when I am alone I hold the baby and cry. I just cry for his life and all that has gone wrong already. I want it to all be better with a swirl of fairy dust, but the more I know the harder it is. 

I am over being angry with his mother. Soon after I wrote about that struggle, I learned some more of her history and crossed over from judgement to compassion on one big wave. I mean, things still aren't right...but I can see all the mixy, muddly grey instead of black and white. I can see how the house of cards fell down.

At first things were just about taking care of a tiny creature and helping him tighten his grasp on life. The "case" was undefined. Now, approaching court, it has taken solid shape. Parent's positions, lawyers, court clinicians, DOCS (Dept. of Childrens' Services) recommendations, care plans, mandatory conflict resolution, meetings. GP appointments, pediatrician appointments, specialist referrals, exams and ultrasounds, waiting for diagnosis. And in the meantime, contact visits and taking pictures, tummy time, and should we start solids?

It should not be like this.

This case has already provided more twists and turns and tummy flopping drops than any good roller coaster. We've had to make some hard decisions and draw some painful boundaries. We're muddling through.

I keep wishing for a mentor. Someone to call when things get confusing. Someone to tell me what is normal and when I should be worried.

Being a temporary foster carer is not the same as being a parent. If this was a permanent thing I could love this baby into being my child. As it stands I am doing the best that I can for him, for me, and for our kids. It is hard to be that in between person in his life. The person who answers his needs like a mother, but can't love him too dearly. My life won't ever be the same after this.