April 2013

Something made me stop and think the other day about how the dates lined up.  Were we foster parents yet when Crocodile was born?  I thought through the timelines, and no, we were a couple weeks away from being licensed.

So, I thought more about April 2013.

Dinosaur was 4.  Rhinoceros was 2.  I didn't have a child in elementary school yet.

We were stressing over licensing details, even though the process had been pretty smooth.  What on earth could we have found stressful in that?  It's hard to understand now.  I was teaching in the evenings and B was working at his old company.

Pterodactyl, Beetle, and Caterpillar were not born yet.

Cricket was a couple months old.  Was her sister taking care of her?  Her grandma that had her own issues?  Had she met Gina yet, her fictive kin "granny" that would eventually adopt her?  What did she look like?  I never saw baby pictures of her.

Crocodile was born.  It would reveal too much of his story to tell what I know about April 2013 and Crocodile.  It was a hopeful time following tragedy, but some were still tentative about that hope.  And unfortunately that hope was fleeting.  I have seen baby pictures of him, true newborn pictures that I was quick to save from Facebook and would later send on to his adoptive family.  He looks like your basic newborn, and his face changed a lot from his newborn face.  Still precious, though.

Now it's April 2017.

Dinosaur is 8.  Rhinoceros is 6.  They're both in elementary school.  They have been big brothers to five children and said five goodbyes.  They have helped, fought with, taught, played with, ignored, cuddled, and loved those five children.

I am teaching part-time during the day and B works at a new company, similar hours.

Pterodactyl, Beetle, and Caterpillar, and Tadpole are all 3 or 4 years old.  I assume Pterodactyl and Beetle were adopted by the families they moved to, but was never told for sure.  I am even less sure about Caterpillar.  Tadpole was adopted by his foster family he was with when we did respite, and I've seen him several times since.

Cricket is 5.  She has been adopted with her sister.  She'll be in kindergarten this fall.

Crocodile is 4 and is living with his new parents and five sisters, two that were there when he was that newborn in April 2013.  Hopefully they will finalize adoption this year.  I wonder and worry about those hopeful people in his life in April 2013.  I pray redemption is still ahead.

Maintaining relationships with former foster kids

We went into fostering knowing that we would have goodbyes.  We hoped they would not be forever goodbyes, but we couldn't really know for sure.  I think we knew it wasn't within our control, but some stories made me hopeful.  Before our first placement, I think I pictured that we would have some kids who would reunify, then depending on the relationship with the birth parents, we could possibly stay in their lives.  What I didn't picture is a move to a relative or another foster family, which has been every case we have had.  It's similar that the relationship is not ours to control, but also different.



So, who have we seen?  I saw Pterodactyl once and received pictures of her as a toddler.  We haven't seen Beetle again, though his foster family did send pictures once.  We have seen Caterpillar, but not in a planned sort of way.  I've posted some about how I've gotten to see Cricket for play dates after she moved from our home.  And though he was just here for respite, we've seen Tadpole, and I recently went to his adoption celebration.  Looking at this list, we have had contact after kids moved, and I am grateful, sometimes for our sake and sometimes for theirs.  However, it has not been simple and easy.


Sometimes new homes make promises that they don't keep.  This has been especially hard on me.  I really thought we were going to be a regular part of some of the kids' lives based on what new caregivers were telling me.  I have had to work on forgiveness.  I have had to put myself in their shoes, knowing they have a lot of their plate and are just busy.  I'm not a fan of the phone, so I sometimes let slip those phone calls I know I should make.  I'm not perfect either.  Or maybe there's just something I don't understand that's a factor.  I need to let those promises go, forgive and forget them.


Sometimes new homes do not even try for contact.  I don't know if it's because they're busy.  I don't know if it's because they have judged us in some way.  I have to forgive and let this go.


Sometimes new homes do try, and it's still a bit messy.  Every boundary has to be drawn differently for a former and new family of a child.  I read stories in blogs of families taking kids for weekends, picking them up to give the new family a break, all celebrating together.  This also set up high expectations in my mind, but in reality, the new family may decide that's not good for the child.  Or even the therapist may get involved and suggest boundaries.  I hoped we could have Cricket back at our house at some point, or take her for outings, but Gina and Cricket's therapists have been very cautious, as she is having a hard time understanding permanency and trust in Gina as a permanent caregiver.  Thankfully, they also recognize that a continued relationship with us is still a good thing, but it has been different than I imagined. 


It's hard to accept after all I've poured into a child that my eagerness to love and care for her could have a negative impact.  I want to get defensive.  I want to feel hurt.  But I am grateful that we are still connected, that I get the chance to tell Cricket how special she is, how happy I am to see her.  That Rhinoceros and Cricket can play together, with Cricket cheerfully barking orders at him, and Rhinoceros just thrilled to have his buddy.


I wonder if some of this is preparation.  Maybe we will be the new home drawing boundaries someday, and I can tell the foster parents this: "I know how you feel.  I know how wrong it feels to see someone else taking care of the child you have loved and poured into.  I know how wrong it feels not to be the one who gets to say what the child needs, when you've met her needs minute by minute.  We all love this child, and we should be gracious to each other, but mostly we need to just keep loving this child, even if loving this child looks different than it did before.  And thank you for loving him."

Confidentiality

I think honesty is some weird involuntary part of my brain.  Sometimes I overshare and don't realize it until the words have escaped my mouth.  Sometimes I give vague answers and then realize later that I trust that person and could have been more open. 

This makes foster parenting interesting, as we are not supposed to share case details and identifying information.  So sometimes I've not wanted to say a specific birthday and say the month instead and get a weird look.  Sometimes I start the answer the "how long is he/she staying with you" with a short answer that I realize makes no sense without a longer answer.  Or I should smile and nod when someone says something about "such an interesting name" but I end up explaining the origin of the name, which usually leads to more information or questions.  I'm a name nerd; it's hard to hold back!  And every person I have to weigh in my mind: what level of information should I give to this particular person?

A commenter said it must be hard to have a blog I don't share with local people.  It's true, only B knows it exists.  I've considered sharing it with a close foster mom friend, but then I know with that door open I'll have trouble not sharing with others, like those in our informal foster mom support group, who are a part of larger Facebook groups that often link to blogs and have agency employees as a part of the groups... I just decided to make tight boundaries and then my involuntary honesty won't kick in at the wrong time.  At least it hasn't so far.

And Tadpole is a teeny, tiny guy, so he has attracted attention everywhere we've gone.  I got some questions with Cricket (as it's clear she's not my biological child), but I've definitely gotten the most with the babies, especially newborns.  He also looks like I could have given birth to him, so I start answering basic questions and then get stuck needing to explain when I can't answer something like "What was his birth weight?"

It's all a little messy.  I'll keep doing my best.  Maybe I need to do puppet role-play like with my kids with polite short answers like, "I'm not comfortable sharing that, sorry."

Tadpole

Our little respite guy, Tadpole is here!  He's teeny-tiny and still almost has some new-baby smell on that fuzzy little head.

Dinosaur adores him, of course, and asked about making a photo book like we did for the other kids.  He's only here for a week, but how can I say no?  Maybe I can just make a little one with a pictures from the week.  He asked the foster mom, "What's your favorite thing about Tadpole?"  Melts my heart.

Rhinoceros is a mixed bag.  He's either indifferent or positive toward Tadpole, but he's struggling with my attention being more divided.  He hasn't had an easy time the past month or so, very upset any time I don't answer his needs or questions immediately.  But we'll all get through it.