Foster Care: Choosing to See the Magic


It’s so easy to get caught up in what is “hard.” I hear myself recounting stories of our experience in foster care, focusing on what’s beautiful but also often about our “broken” system. 

Our narrative of what’s good and bad keeps us stuck.

It keeps up fighting against reality.

When I posted our story this past week about what has been happening with Baby A I got so many beautiful, heartfelt responses. I truly write to process but I also write to share about this world and these babes who need us. There was a lot of resistance to what is happening with his reunification and believe me, I understand it. 

The idea that his life with us would be better because _________ is a choice in perspective.

In this New Age-y world, I sometimes feel like I’m doing it wrong when people tell me they haven’t given up on him staying with us. Did I not pray enough? Did I not manifest hard enough, well enough, aligned enough? This is dangerous territory my friends. 

I’ve had friends and colleagues who have offered to continue to hold the space for the idea that we will stay together. What I haven’t done is give up on Baby A. Not even for one second. Every day I pray for the highest good to be done for him. I’ve been inviting in visions of him with a huge extended family, covered in kisses and absolutely adored.

I truly believe that what is written will happen. No matter what. That a story is unfolding beyond our wildest imagination and dreams. That I must trust and lean into that trust even when it fees like I’m stumbling and tripping and can’t see three feet in front of my face.

God keeps showing up for me in the most beautiful of ways. Some days it’s harder to hear or see, some days it’s so profound it brings me to my knees.

The day I took Baby A to the ER a young medic was taking down his information as we transferred him to another hospital. (On a stretcher and in an ambulance!) As she looked at his info she asked me if I adopted him. I said no, but I would love that more than anything. She told me she was adopted. I asked if she was adopted at birth and she said no, she was adopted at three years old from foster care. Big tears just ran down my cheeks and I said “Thank you.”

This happens over and over again - from my nurse at Children’s telling me about her experience in foster care and how grateful she was to her foster and adoptive parents. To my hairdresser telling me about being adopted from foster care at one month old. To new friends on social media telling me they are following this path inspired by what they have read about our experience.

A new perspective - we foster and love the children who are put on our path with every ounce of our beings. And when we adopt we will be thrilled. But I think both Matt and I need to remind ourselves one again of why we took this path - because there was a need and there was a call and we decided to answer that call.

I’m not writing this and I’m not doing this so you see me as a hero. Honestly that makes my stomach turn over. But instead I’m writing, and being 100 percent honest with our struggles, so you see me as a human and you know that absolutely anything is possible. That magic can and will come through on the hardest of days. That you are stronger than you ever could’ve imagined.

I love you. You’re doing great. And I am too.