Today marks the anniversary of what was possibly the worst day of my life. No matter how hard I try, my mind goes back to that time, four years ago—the day we lost our son. It’s not exactly what you think. Our son didn’t die, but part of our family did. Four years ago, today, we said, “Goodbye” to the little boy whom we had hoped to adopt. Four years ago today, I learned firsthand what it was like to love a child who was not mine to keep; the pain and heartbreak that came with it; and how to pick up the pieces and keep moving forward. It was a loss for which there was no script. Support was low; judgment high. It was the day our family fell apart. And through it all, I learned a few things–here’s what you need to know about foster parenting.
Our foster/adoption journey was a long one with too many twists and turns to count. Several years ago, we were in the adoption process facing one road block after the next. Our social worker encouraged us to get licensed for foster care in order to be available to adopt through our state, should the opportunity arise. We had been licensed, without any placements, for a long time. Finally, we got a call about a five-year-old boy needing a placement. We drove eight hours, round-trip in order to meet with his social workers. When we arrived home, we got the call we had been waiting for: “They felt that you would be the best placement for the child and would like to meet with you in your home.”
We postponed our family trip in order for them to meet with us—only to have them cancel the day before the meeting with this statement: “The other family was closer to our offices; therefore, we placed [the child] with them.”
So, in their own words, they felt that we were the best placement for this little guy, but placing him with a family closer to them was easier and therefore, priority. I thought that was heartbreak. Little did I know what would come next.
A year later, we received another call about the same little boy, who was not thriving in his placement. The Lord asked us to open our home up to the same people who rejected us and treated us so poorly before. The details were a blur, but after we met, we were supposed to line up a time to meet him and visit with him, to see if we would be a good fit for him. Instead, we got a call asking, “Can you take him today? He is not safe in his current placement.” So, one Thursday morning, I woke up having three children, and by the end of the day, I was tucking a stranger’s child into bed.
The next two months with him were long and difficult—tremendously difficult. His social workers had told us about some of his needs, but we were unaware of the extent of those needs and delays. We were completely unprepared. On top of that, he was six years old and we were his seventh placement. His social workers did not inform us of the trauma he had been through. (Another thing to know about foster parenting) His behaviors were incredibly difficult and things in our household fell apart quickly!
We wanted to adopt him; so we all worked hard at bonding with him as though he was already part of our family—not a “foster child.” He was our son. My husband gave him a special nickname like he has given all of our biological children. I will never forget the morning I came downstairs and that little boy came running saying, “Mom! Call me Ollie now!”
Ollie. My son for a moment.
I loved that boy with every part of me, but I would be a total liar if I didn’t admit that having him was awful. He was unkind to both of our sons, and they repaid him the same. He was on insanely high levels of medication that no child that age should have been on. But as we worked to wean him off those medications, his behaviors became more and more difficult to manage.
Red flags popped up along the way; in the end, we were forced to see the reality that the situation was not safe for our daughter. Once we decided that we could not be his forever family, we were given two hours to spend with him before he left, just as abruptly as he came. We spent them well. They were probably the best two hours we had with him the entire time he lived with us!
When he left, it was straight out of a nightmare.
We weren’t allowed to tell him what was happening. His social workers asked us to lie to him. And we did. That is one thing I hate that I did. We were also told to lie to our children about what was happening. We didn’t. Maybe that was the moment of truth—our children were ours and he was not. I hate that.
I hate that he will never know how it broke our hearts when he left. He will never know how we fell apart and spent an entire year just grieving because of how we loved him. I hate that. He will never know that his picture is up next to our family picture and we talk about him so often that even our daughter, who was adopted a year after he left, asks about him by name. I hate that too. Whatever. It doesn’t matter because we can’t know where he is or how he is. It wasn’t because of him—we were just not the right fit, but we aren’t allowed to tell him that.
But What is My Biggest Regret?
I regret how I was pulled in so many different directions while he was here—fulfilling state requirements of homeschooling him; bringing him to physical therapy, occupational therapy, enrolling him for special ed classes at the public school, IEP meetings, behavioral therapy, and the list went on and on. And there were three other children in the mix who had their lives turned upside down! I tried so hard to be the glue holding everything together that I never had the chance to just offer a pair of safe arms to hug a child who didn’t get hugged enough.
Through it all, I learned a lot. I learned, the hard way, what I wish someone had told me. I want to offer you five things today to know about foster parenting.
Five things I wish someone would have told me about providing foster care:
- If You Do It Right, It’s Going to Hurt–
I actually had social workers say to me, “I think you’re too invested.” TOO INVESTED?!? Aren’t those the people you want?! If you’re not invested, you’re not in it for the right reasons. Get too invested.
- It’s Not All Going to Come Up Roses–
Many families adopt through foster care and it turns out great! But it NEVER turns out without issues—because whenever you adopt a child who has been through a traumatic start to life, there will be tough stuff—really tough stuff along the way.
- Approach it Like a Temporary Placement (Even If You Hope to Adopt!)—
This is the main thing I wish I had done differently! I thought we should throw ourselves into bonding and treating our foster child like we would be his forever family. Even though I never said that to him, I still think that created a lot of pressure on his part. He didn’t bond with us. Maybe he pushed us away on purpose. There’s a thousand things that could’ve happened, but in the end, EVERYONE—including him—was broken. Had we approached it as temporary from the start, maybe we could have bonded better.
- You Cannot Change Them–
There are certain things that you won’t be able to change—most certainly not overnight! I don’t remember thinking I could change Ollie, but maybe subconsciously, I thought that with enough love and attention, therapy and teaching, he would realize his potential and live up to it.
- They Will Change You–
We’ve only had one other child from foster care who stayed with us for five days of respite care and even in that short time, he changed us. There were definitely some things we gave Ollie—some tools that we taught him and a lot of progress in certain areas—but he changed us far more than we ever realized. We broke as a family when he left, but we also healed as a family. All of our children have been through really.hard.things. They have more compassion because of it and an awareness that not all children have good homes or the advantages they do. They have learned the hard way that grief takes a long time to move through.
Would I do it again? If the Lord asked me to, I would be foolish to say, “No.” But I would definitely apply what I know about foster parenting now and I would do things differently. Would I encourage someone else to do it? Absolutely! Our time with Ollie taught me so much—about myself, about tough kids from tough places, and about a completely broken system. Most importantly, it has taught me that God is bigger than all of it. He’s bigger than the system; bigger than the struggles; and bigger than all of my failures, disappointments, and regrets. If you’ve ever thought about providing foster care—pray about it—because He’s bigger than all of yours too!
RElated: Raising Resilient Kids
