Foster Parenting, Part 1

You know how sometimes you have an idea, and once you think it you can’t unthink it?  And it just sort of percolates in the back of your brain, just hanging out?

We’ve had an idea for years that has come and gone in intensity, leading up until now, when we have been actively pursuing it in the hopes of making it reality.

Here’s how it started…

Back in 2003, Kullervo went to Basic Training with the Army.  It was the first time in our long (ha!) two years of marriage that we’d been apart.  At all.  Ten weeks apart, then a weekend together, then another five weeks.  It was tough.

When it was over, we wanted a baby (nothing says, ‘Let’s make a baby!’ like three months apart, right?  Right?).  But I was only 21, we were still in school, and babies seemed like things grown ups did.  So we got a cat.

Fast forward a couple of months, and it turned out that a cat is no substitute for a baby (they’re way easier, but what did I know back then?  I was a baby myself!).  So we decided to heck with good reasoning and judgment.  We were going to have a baby!  So we removed the goalie and waited.

And waited.

I tracked my temperature and did all the good old wives’ tales to assist.

And we waited.

And we gave up.  We were young, we shouldn’t have problems with baby-making.  But we did.  And after months of waiting, I figured I just couldn’t get pregnant.  So we figured we’d wait a few years (like, until graduation, maybe?) and then adopt.  No big deal.  Kullervo’s sister is adopted.  My favorite cousin is adopted.

Really.  I know so many women who struggle with infertility and go through invasive treatments and put so much heart and soul into all of the agony and really and truly suffer as a result.  But that wasn’t me.  I had the occasional pang when I’d see a pregnant woman, and I got sad every month when I wasn’t pregnant, but that was the extent of it.

*Aside: my heart breaks for those women for whom the infertility struggle impacts so deeply.  I in no way want to minimize the very real pain that goes along with it; just for me, it was not something I struggled with at that time.

And 18 months later, at the least convenient time, I got pregnant with Oliver.  And then Hazel.  And then we decided we would adopt.  The bee was in our bonnets; we were sure adoption was in our future.  But then we were pregnant again, twice more!

But the adoption story has always been in the back of my mind.  So, after Fitz was born, in the middle-of-the-night feedings, I was reading books about adoption and trying to plan for it.

When we decided to get serious about looking into adoption, Kullervo and I both used the Google, and while our opposite-personality search terms were different, we both came across similar things that made us rethink adoption for us, and moved us in another direction.

Then those Planned Parenthood videos came out.  Remember those?  While Kullervo and I felt like we had very different beliefs about women’s rights in our country (as in, stay up all night debating and falling asleep in tears), we both felt like what was happening with abortions in Planned Parenthood was a call to action.  Or, rather, I said that if a person does not believe abortions should be legal, that person has a responsibility to help care for the children that are born.

And we started praying about it and looking for adoption in the Bible.  And we began looking into adoption agencies.

Then we had another brain bug… what if we became foster parents instead?  Kullervo was initially very against it, and so was I.  Giving a child back to the parents who had had their parental rights taken away in the first place, if all goes well?  That’s tantamount to accepting a future heartbreak in your life at the get-go.  Best and worst case there is pain and suffering involved.  Could we do that?  We were pretty sure it would just be hard for us, hard for the kids, hard for everyone.  What a terrible idea.

But we couldn’t stop thinking about it.  The Bible says to take care of the least of these.  The Bible says to take care of the widows and the orphans, and this wasn’t exactly that, but it was close.  These children are hurting—physically, emotionally.  They have been through trauma, and then further affected by being removed from the home they knew.

Could we, who try really hard to make hospitality a priority, really say that loving these children would be too hard?

We couldn’t unthink it.  So we looked further.  Our county has informational meetings about foster parenting every couple of months, so we registered for the next one and hired a babysitter for the kids.

Could this be our future?  (Spoiler alert… it was!)

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