I Am Not Done With One
Anyone who knows me at all knows I wanted more children. I can remember vividly the day I started (and ended) conversations with my ex about a second child. LM was a surprise, but I never intended to stop with just one. When pressed, my ex admitted he would have been just fine without any children at all. Well, there was no need to then discuss a second one. Our marriage did not dissolve for that reason (see also, "When Your Husband Comes Out of the Closet: Why the topic of future children is moot") but it didn't help matters any either.
I thought I would surely remarry. Never would I have guessed that six years would pass since my divorce and I would be remarkably single (my last date was when?) and prospectless. I thought even if I didn't have more children of my own, perhaps I might meet a man who also had children and I would welcome them into our family unit as my own.
But this is exactly where I stand. I will turn 36 this summer. I have an eleven year old child. I have no fiance, boyfriend or date for Saturday night. Tick tock, tick tock.
I started thinking a couple years ago about other options. About getting back to a career that involves children (maybe use that private school education degree after all?!) but I realized that filling up my days with children doesn't fill up my home with them in quite the same way. I started to explore some ideas, but never got very far, deciding for myself that being a single mother with a 2-bedroom home limited my options. I have been trying in vain over the past year to relocate to be closer to my sister, my neice and my nephew (okay, you too, Bear!), but that's not a door that God has opened for me yet.
I began to think outside the box.
When I finally made contact with a foster-placement agency, they welcomed me in with open arms. I reminded them, hey! I'm not married! They said, so?! I said, well, I only have two bedrooms, and a little boy sleeps in one and I sleep in the other! They said, so?! I said, well, um, I have pets! I have a job!! I have...well... they said, "a lot to offer?!" And I nodded. I do. I have a lot to offer.
And so last Thursday, after a boost of encouragement from a new friend (who feels like an old friend, if you know what I mean) I headed off to the first of 12 weeks of foster parent training. I had to put my guilt in check as I sacrificed my short Thursday night time with LM in order to attend class, sending him off with his dad. I had to push aside my fears that Eli would completely freak out for being put back in the crate for the second time that day. I had to resist the urge to convince myself yet again that I would not be good enough, or eligible enough, or safe enough. I went.
For the first two hours of class I felt as though God's hand was on my shoulder, holding me in my seat, securing in my mind the confidence that I not only belonged there, but that this was his intention for me. Kids. That need me. Would come into my care. And I could hold them. And love them. And give them back, or give them to an adoptive parent to love and cherish them. And if, God willing, we were graced with a child we could not let go of? Adoption is not ruled out as an option, but only if we want to.
But it is through challenges that we are taught to rely on God. It is through the obstacles that we test our own faith and see if we are able to relinquish the reigns on our own life to God, who knows a better plan for us than we could ever imagine.
Foster parents are given (roughly, on average) $15 per diem reimbursement for a child. This is to cover food and clothing, and, as I sadly realized, child care. Knowing that child care was not just an option for us but a requirement, I quickly made phone calls to see what costs amount to nowadays. I'll just say this: WAY over $15 a day.
I'm still making calls. I'm still exploring options. I'm asking everyone I know if they have ideas, or know someone, or can help. If God wants us to foster, He alone can make this possible. I will trust.
And I will pray.
Somewhere, there is a little child out there who belongs in our home. I just know it. I just know it. One way or another, I am not done with one.
I thought I would surely remarry. Never would I have guessed that six years would pass since my divorce and I would be remarkably single (my last date was when?) and prospectless. I thought even if I didn't have more children of my own, perhaps I might meet a man who also had children and I would welcome them into our family unit as my own.
But this is exactly where I stand. I will turn 36 this summer. I have an eleven year old child. I have no fiance, boyfriend or date for Saturday night. Tick tock, tick tock.
I started thinking a couple years ago about other options. About getting back to a career that involves children (maybe use that private school education degree after all?!) but I realized that filling up my days with children doesn't fill up my home with them in quite the same way. I started to explore some ideas, but never got very far, deciding for myself that being a single mother with a 2-bedroom home limited my options. I have been trying in vain over the past year to relocate to be closer to my sister, my neice and my nephew (okay, you too, Bear!), but that's not a door that God has opened for me yet.
I began to think outside the box.
When I finally made contact with a foster-placement agency, they welcomed me in with open arms. I reminded them, hey! I'm not married! They said, so?! I said, well, I only have two bedrooms, and a little boy sleeps in one and I sleep in the other! They said, so?! I said, well, um, I have pets! I have a job!! I have...well... they said, "a lot to offer?!" And I nodded. I do. I have a lot to offer.
And so last Thursday, after a boost of encouragement from a new friend (who feels like an old friend, if you know what I mean) I headed off to the first of 12 weeks of foster parent training. I had to put my guilt in check as I sacrificed my short Thursday night time with LM in order to attend class, sending him off with his dad. I had to push aside my fears that Eli would completely freak out for being put back in the crate for the second time that day. I had to resist the urge to convince myself yet again that I would not be good enough, or eligible enough, or safe enough. I went.
For the first two hours of class I felt as though God's hand was on my shoulder, holding me in my seat, securing in my mind the confidence that I not only belonged there, but that this was his intention for me. Kids. That need me. Would come into my care. And I could hold them. And love them. And give them back, or give them to an adoptive parent to love and cherish them. And if, God willing, we were graced with a child we could not let go of? Adoption is not ruled out as an option, but only if we want to.
But it is through challenges that we are taught to rely on God. It is through the obstacles that we test our own faith and see if we are able to relinquish the reigns on our own life to God, who knows a better plan for us than we could ever imagine.
Foster parents are given (roughly, on average) $15 per diem reimbursement for a child. This is to cover food and clothing, and, as I sadly realized, child care. Knowing that child care was not just an option for us but a requirement, I quickly made phone calls to see what costs amount to nowadays. I'll just say this: WAY over $15 a day.
I'm still making calls. I'm still exploring options. I'm asking everyone I know if they have ideas, or know someone, or can help. If God wants us to foster, He alone can make this possible. I will trust.
And I will pray.
Somewhere, there is a little child out there who belongs in our home. I just know it. I just know it. One way or another, I am not done with one.
Comments
Did you change your font? It seems harder to read. Maybe I need my eyes checked...
I will be praying that it all works out!
An excellent idea and I think, you have p-l-e-n-t-y to offer.
I feel it will all work itself out as time passes.
You'll see ;-)