Preston

The amount of strength that it takes to write about our experience here is sometimes overwhelming.  That is why it is so long between posts.  I've been working on a 12-step program to heal some things in my life, and one of the steps requires making amends and asking forgiveness from those you have wronged.  After working on that step for over a year, I realized that I had not asked nor given forgiveness to myself.  I've spent time the last two weeks working on a letter to myself asking for forgiveness. This post is going to be one of the more painful ones to write. I need forgiveness from myself for this.

Early in our process of foster care, just after I finished the second round of training, we found out about a little boy that I will call "Preston."  We kept him on our mind the whole time.  He was the youngest of five children (if I remember right).  He had been homeless for most of his life with his dad.  The mom had abandoned all of the children and most likely died of a drug overdose.  The state had no idea where she was.  Two of the children were in institutions for mental or physical disabilities.  We were told Preston was on the scale for Autism, but we felt capable of handling that.  We wanted a second son so badly.  In hindsight, we were blinded by our desires.

We met with Preston a few times.  It wasn't perfect, but we felt that we could help him in any way possible.  We felt that part of the reason he had so many struggles was because of the type of home he was living in.  The family who lived in the home ran foster care as a business.  They would take in as many children as possible, the children would spend all day watching tv and playing video games, and the family gathered all of the money.  I hated sending him back to that home each time after we spent time with him. They didn't even speak English in the home hardly.  I don't mind Spanish speakers, except that Preston is an English speaker.  So, he was rarely spoken to, and never spoke to others. In fact, when he did finally get to move to our home (at 5 years old), he had never ridden a bicycle or a scooter. It was heartbreaking watching him play outside.  He didn't know what to do except watch tv and play video games.

Ok, I don't think I can write more tonight. I'll write more soon.

Beginning the process

I've had a very difficult time writing here. Even though it's been a couple of years since this experience, the feelings are raw and painful. Very painful. But, it's time for me to heal. So, I am going to start at the beginning.

I never planned on being foster parents.  My parents had foster children when I was growing up.  Some painful things happened.  But that will be another story for another day.  What I'm saying, though, is that it wasn't my plan.

However, God put some kinks in our plans.  We planned on having a big family, but we found ourselves with three children and a strong inspiration from God that we were done there.  My heart was broken from that.  I don't think I can quite explain the heartache a woman gores through when she cannot have more children.  Only women who have experienced this can know.  What makes it more difficult, though, is that we had two girls and then a boy.  Our little boy asks for a brother almost every single day in one way or another.  It breaks my heart every single time. His pleadings are what drove us to consider foster care.

We began the process of certifying as foster parents. It was a very long process.  First of all, it was so much paperwork.  So much!  Then, there was the training -- 27 hours of training.  I drove to a town 2 hours away every week, multiple times a week for training, and didn't get home until 11 pm at night.  The training was intense, too.  I think the hardest part of the training was the teacher.  She was so negative about foster care after having been a social worker for so long.  I didn't want to become like that.  However, we felt driven to move forward with the process, so I completed the training.

Then, we found out about a local foster family agency and decided to proceed with them.  I had to do the training again.  I completed that and then we began working on the house study.  That was where we hit another snag. We found out that the third bedroom in our home couldn't be used as a bedroom because it didn't have an egress.  Since we only had three bedrooms with three kids and us, it caused some real problems.  To make a very long story short, we ended up spending $14,000 to remodel our home so that we could foster children.  And, that was the beginning of our fostering challenges.

It was a discouraging time.  I wanted so much to have a little boy join our family.  I wanted a brother for my son.  And we kept getting delayed. But, we persevered, and we did eventually get certified as a foster family.  That felt wonderful.  However, our problems didn't end there.  

The Beginnings

I have wanted to write a book on our experiences for a long time. We were foster parents for only about a year, but the emotional and physical toll it took on us was overwhelming.  Even still, more than a year later, I am searching for answers and healing.

However, a book seemed overwhelming.  I wanted to share our experience to help others, and perhaps encourage change, but I realized I needed to do it in small steps. A blog seemed like the perfect way to go. I will be sharing some personal things, and I want to encourage anyone else who has a story to tell to be free to do the same thing -- send me your story if you are willing for it to be posted on the blog and I will do so.   Or, if you just need someone who understands, feel free to write to me, and let me know you want your story kept private.  I will read and reply to each story that comes to me.  I will carefully monitor comments on here and help protect all those who are sharing personal struggles and triumphs.

Let's heal together and help heal the system.