It’s been 11 whole days since we said goodbye. My soul aches and I’d give anything to have him back in our home.
I try to keep myself busy, but it seems like everything I do makes all the memories flood my brain. Like going to Hobby Lobby this week. He had sat in the cart like a big boy for one of the first times the last time we were there.
This is the new normal… just me during the day, trying to make time pass more quickly. I don’t have a sweet babe to love on. I stay up late and sleep in late and spend almost the entire day in bed. I try to work. I scroll social media. I go get coffee and go shopping alone. I schedule last minute haircuts and massages because I have a schedule that’s completely open. And I’m having a hard time accepting it all.
But I try. I try to find anything good that could come from the heartache of saying goodbye to the boy who made me a momma. Like the fact that because we’re not foster parents to little man now, I get to have a more open relationship with his momma. I get to talk to her daily; sometimes for hours at a time. I get to help her, encourage her, love her, support her, serve her, speak truth into her life, share little glimpses of Jesus truths with her and mentor her in ways that I didn’t feel were necessarily appropriate as a foster parent to her child.
And to think I used to get nervous and my heart would race when she would call me. I used to avoid interacting with her. I used to be uncomfortable with the thought of building a relationship with her. I used to have a judgemental heart towards her. Oh how I’m so thankful that this isn’t the case any more.
Friends, this is foster care. It sucks. It’s messy. It’s so freaking hard. It’s ripped my heart into tiny little pieces and I know I will literally never be the same. But sometimes it’s beautiful. And it’s always worth it.