5pm. We loaded up in the car with the music blaring and headed out for a swim on that hot summer day. 1 mile down the road, Dave's phone rang. I glanced down and my stomach dropped. Our caseworker was calling us at 5:05 on a Friday night. Something was not right. Dave quickly answered and the next few minutes were a blur.
"I tried calling Amy's phone but she didn't answer."
"The Judge just called…"
"(friend) is going home…"
"I have to come get her immediately."
"I'm so sorry."
My sweet boy laughing in the backseat talking to our friend. My heart desperately ached at the thought of what I was about to tell him. He sobbed. Not little tears, big ones. He didn't understand. Every emotion running through our bodies. We hurried home and changed. I sent a text to my dear friend that said "(friend) is going back to mom tonight. I need you.". I hurried through the house packing up what little bit hadn't already been packed. I did everything I could to avoid holding our sweet and precious friend. I couldn't do it. I could not do it. I was avoiding the goodbye and wanting to pretend this had never happened but I couldn't and alas I gave in. I quickly picked up our sweet friend from Dave's arms, sat down on the living room floor and surrounded myself with my sweet family and there we sat and prayed. We prayed for our friend. We prayed for her continued healing. We prayed for her return home. We prayed for her safety. We prayed for her future. I listened to my precious boy pray his heart out like he had never prayed before. We wept. We held onto each other, the four of us and enjoyed the last few minutes of our time together as a foster family of 4.
Our friends arrived and loved on us, encouraged us, listened to us vent and cry. The caseworker pulled up and we watched our friend load up our sweet little foster baby's belongings as we walked her to the car. We kissed her one last time and I couldn't help but get one last smell of her precious baby scent and then I did the hardest thing ever and I handed this sweet baby over to the caseworker and said goodbye.
The next morning we packed up everything baby. Our friend would never be forgotten but seeing her favorite toys around became too painful. Emotions were raw, hearts were broken and we knew that we were in no shape to make any sort of decision about what to do with her sweet room that was in the works of becoming our "foster friends'" room. So I said goodbye to her beautiful baby girl bedding
and hello to a new possibility. A second chance to love another child and be the home that the need for us to be. By the way, we were incredibly blessed with two bedding sets and how many mom's get the opportunity to redecorate a room in just a matter of an hour?
I should clarify that while we knew that our little friend would never be an adoption case, nor was she ours to keep, we never imagined she would leave so soon and so abruptly. While I mentally tried to prepare myself for weeks for that goodbye I don't think anything can ever prepare you for that phone call on a Friday night.
I won't lie, the first week was horrible. I held my emotions in for a few days until I physically couldn't do it any longer and I wept and wept. Our family went and saw our beloved counselor a few days after. I think every family should have a counselor. They are wonderful. He told me not to hide my emotions from my son. He told me that we were not stupid for opening our hearts and our home to take care of another mother's child. He told me it was okay for me to be bitter and angry. He told us what an amazing family we were when we felt like we had failed. He told us that what we did for this little girl was priceless and would never be forgotten even though we felt so raw from the broken hearts she had left us with. It was that night leaving his office that I knew we hit the bottom, we allowed ourselves to grieve and would allow ourselves to finish off the grieving process but it was also time to refocus and make decisions. It was time to go on with life.
So it's been 3 weeks. We still pray for our friend every night. We leave her picture on our fridge and laugh about her nicknames (Pork Chop was my personal favorite). We sometimes wonder what she is doing and how she is feeling. It hurts me to say I can no longer remember her baby scent that became so familiar and calming to me. I still miss her. Today on her 3 week anniversary of leaving us I finally gathered the strength to go back to the DFS office and pick up her carseat that she left our house in. Honestly, I'd been avoiding it. I had friends offer to go by and get it but I just couldn't bear to bring that seat home. There was something dumb about seeing that carseat that made my heart hurt more for my friend. Seeing that silly seat brought down the hallway towards us brought tears to both my son's and mine eyes. I put it in the back of the van and we drove off in a brief moment of silence. I asked him if he missed her still and he said "a lot". I told him I did too and we talked about our friend but today was different. Today I had closure and today I felt stronger. Our friend will never be forgotten in our home but there is a small amount of pride in my heart knowing that we survived our first go around as foster parents.
My heart feels healed and ready to begin this adventure again. Am I crazy? Probably. I pray each morning on my way to school for that little life out there waiting to come to our home. I pray that God blesses us abundantly through that life and that we in return can bless that life abundantly. So now we wait. We continue on with life as a family of 3 and pray that in God's perfect timing this bed can bless another child's life.
We wait, we pray, we trust, we will obey.
