A few nights ago, I came home from a long day at work to my favorite little smiles. I love the hugs and giggles that meet me at the door. They can make any day better. After we danced and played with dinosaurs, we put the little humans to bed. As soon as I shut their bedroom door, I felt it. I had nothing else to give. I was exhausted.
I climbed in bed and under my favorite blanket. I lost it for a solid 20 minutes. Because foster care wrecks you. Because foster care pushes you to your limits. Because sometimes I wish it wasn’t so much weight to carry. Because sometimes the difficulty of the wait is just too much.
I have felt more of the gut punching anxiety lately. I’ve noticed I apologize more when it’s not needed and assume I’m bothering people pretty much all the time. I feel more antsy. I have felt more isolated and uneasy. I’ve had to stop and take some deep breaths more often lately. I’m not sleeping as well as I normally do. This isn’t a new thing and especially during our time as foster parents.
I went to bed that night desperately praying for the strength to get up the next morning and still have the fight in me.
I checked my messages the next morning, there was a text waiting for me from someone I haven’t talked to in months, “Hey I don’t know if you need to hear this but, don’t give up yet. You are stronger than you think.” That is what I needed to hear that day. I didn’t feel the overwhelming defeat I’ve been feeling for the last few weeks. I felt a renewed sense of fight.
So I decided I’m going to let go of my need for control. I will see the silver lining, even though I’m having to search really hard for it. Life is all about struggling to balance controlling what we can and learning to let go of what we can’t.
My foster son is caught in the middle of a broken system. Whether he is aware of it or not, we are not his family. He sometimes has to experience things I can’t protect him from yet. When that happens we give him the biggest hug and tell him to be brave.
If he can do that, then I can too.
Waiting is hard. Anxiety is hard. One day the wait will be over.
We wait in hopeful anticipation. Even in the wait, we will choose to enjoy today and every “today” we get with him.
This little boy is so worth it.
Koko
PS. Shout out to all of you who have been the recipient of sorrys, shortness, and extra anxiety. You all are the MVP’s of the story.
