Two years ago Jonathan and I were excitedly awaiting the arrival of our first child. We had decided to adopt and we had heard through one of my good friends about a birth mom who was looking for adoptive parents. My friend's mom set up a meeting with the birth mom. We sent her letters and pictures and she sent us ultrasound pictures. We finally met and talked for a little while. We told her how excited we were to possibly become parents soon and she told us her fears of raising this child alone. Though she wasn't a christian, her parents were and it was important to her for her child to be raised in that atmosphere. We seemed like a good match to her and it wasn't long before she let us know that she had chosen us to raise her child. We were so excited! She was due on January 5th and she told us that we could be at the hospital when her baby and ours was born. She wanted a few minutes with the baby before giving up her parental rights. She seemed very aware of the sadness it would cause her. Though it is hard to see someone else in pain, I loved the love she had for that baby. She was considering the best for her child and it was great to see that she had no lack of natural affection, even though choosing to let someone else raise her child. I was on cloud nine. I was so incredibly excited! Finally, I was "expecting"!
Within a month after choosing to let us be her child's parents she changed her mind. We got the call on Jonathan's birthday. While we had only "known" for a month that we were going to be parents, we had known of the possibility of being able to raise this particular child for almost 3 months. There were so many emotions that I was experiencing in this. A lot of the time, though it seems foolish now, I hoped that she would change her mind again. I really thought that she would. I was happy at the thought that if she were able to raise her child, that child would be with a mother that weighed her options and thought about what was best for her child, even if that meant letting someone be the parents. It was easy for me to think of trusting in God's timing through this. I really thought deep down that this was part of His plan. I thought that her changing her mind was just going to be part of the process. I thought a lot about the fact that she changed her mind once, she might change it again. I really really thought that. It was hard to hear the initial comment that she had decided to raise the baby herself. She let us know at the same time that she was having a boy. My heart was broken at that time, but soon I was back to thinking, "In God's time". I wasn't sure how it would happen, but I was pretty sure that she would change her mind again.
She didn't change her mind again. Her little boy was born on New Year's Eve 2009. We have never met him, or seen pictures of him and we don't know his name. I think of him often. "Losing" him was the hardest thing that ever came my way. I grieved for him for nearly a year after his birth. I cried all the time for so long. I felt like my grief couldn't be understood by most people. I mean, it wasn't like I had a child who died. It wasn't even the same as a miscarriage. My child still lives, only not with me. Never with me. I never even got to meet him. 2010 was the hardest year of my life, start to finish. For most of the first part of the year, I was grieving over the loss of "my" son. By the holiday season, I was starting to be "ok" and then tragedy struck. I lost my sweet Mama on what would have been his first birthday.
Though it took a while to see the blessings in NOT becoming a Mama when I wanted to, I have been seeing little blessings all along. Losing this child helped me face the greatest fear that I have always had with foster parenting. I know that when you become a foster parent, you ALWAYS run the risk of allowing a child that you love go back to his or her birth family. That is heart breaking and I thought I'd never be able to do that. You want to love the children in your home with everything you have, yet it's scary to think that they might not always be there. Mama and I had many conversations about this before she died. She had wanted us to become foster parents for a long time before we were open to the idea. But we, and I especially, were worried about this very thing. She let me know again again that it was the hardest part of the process. BUT she always stressed that no matter how long a baby or a child was in our life and home they could be a blessing to us and we could be a blessing to them. She also told me that people make hurtful comments about it all the time. Saying things like, "I don't see how you do it, I could never give a child back to a bad situation". She always said that she would let those people know that the point isn't that you "let" them go back, it's that you let them in in the first place. Sometimes things are out of your hands, but you pray for God's guidance and you do whatever you can to help others, even if your heart is broken in the end. That was hard for me to get. I mean, I saw her be so sad every time a child left her home, but I didn't think I could do that. Before Mama died, I knew the heartbreak of losing a child that no one but you really considers to be your own. I've done it once, and it isn't so scary to me now. It is still terrifying, but I know that I can do it now, because I've done it before. It's way scarier to think of having a child in my home for a long time and then having to "give them back", but I know that I can handle what I'm given. I know that it will be hard, but I've faced loss before and came through it. One thing that Mama liked to remind me of, was that you never know what might happen with your biological or adopted children. You aren't guaranteed to raise them to adulthood either. In that sense Fostering isn't much different. There's a greater chance of suffering the loss through Foster care, but the risks are there regardless. I think the "loss" of our first baby will bless us in the future as we become Foster parents. Sometimes I feel like this may be the answer to WHY we weren't able to become parents on New Year's Eve 2009. Another little blessing, though I admit that it's a little silly, is that my baby's first birthday wasn't the day his Nana died. Though now, none of my children will ever get to meet their wonderful Nana, I think that first birthday would have haunted me.
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