“I don’t know how you do it, I could never let them go!”

This blog post was submitted by Brianna. She has three biological daughters and is currently a foster mom to a 1-year-old boy. If you would like to share your story about foster care, please email blog@comfortcases.org.

As a foster mom, I hear this all the time:

“I don’t know how you do it, I could never let them go!”

Honestly, this statement hurts me on few levels.

For one, it hurts me because I wonder, “boy, do my friends think I’m heartless because I can give these kids up when it’s time?”

I’m not heartless, it is hard! I bawled my eyes out the day I found out my first foster child would be leaving us in 3 weeks. I cried a lot during that time, and when the day finally came, I could not even bring her out to the social worker because I was so upset.

My husband pulled it together and took her down after my one last kiss and hug. I cried for days.

I checked up on her mom on Facebook to see updates about how they were doing. I prayed to God for her to come back to us. God spoke to me and told me that I needed to trust Him. So I did. But I won’t lie, I wondered how I would do this again. I thought “I can’t do this again.”

I was also angry at the system. How could they take her from my home and put her into a rehab with her mom who used during her entire pregnancy, gave birth to her, and then left her in the hospital to detox for 3 weeks while she went out and used again?

I asked God what to do. My husband and I did not get a call for a new child for 5 months. I guess that was God speaking to me and giving me the time I needed to regroup. I’m not sure what I would have done if we had gotten a call right away. I was so mad at the system that I may have said, “I’m done.”

I was given the time to accept what had happened, breathe, and try to understand. I’m thankful for that time because I was able to say “yes” when we got our next call 5 months later.

The statement “I don’t know how you do it, I couldn’t let them go!” also hits me because I wonder, “Do they think I think I’m better than them because I’m doing it and they want to?”  

I don’t think I’m better than anyone. I don’t do this for any other reason than to help the children. My whole life I thought about adopting if I could not have kids. Then I had kids and I started to think about fostering. After college I worked as a residential counselor in a children’s home. I grew to know these kids, I heard their stories, and I knew back then that I wanted to help them but the timing wasn’t right.

Now I’m in a place in my life where my kids are in school full-time. I wanted to have more of my own children but I went through a very difficult health scare a few years ago and my husband and I decided we didn’t want to take any chances. Now I work from home for our financial advisory company and we are financially stable with the one income if I can’t get much work done. I love having kids around, and with mine in school I felt lost and not really sure where my place was. Then I started fostering and I found my purpose again. It’s a way for me to give back, help a child, and get my “baby fix.”

Lastly, after our first foster child I learned to keep it in the back of my head that this child could go at any time. I love them with all I have, but I keep my guard up at the same time. I have to, to keep doing this! I also try to be on the parents’ side now, cheering them on and wishing them a life with their child. 

I have always kept a daily journal for each child which goes back and forth on visits as a way for the parents and I to communicate and for me to fill the parent in on milestones. I also make photo books for the parents to keep. Some parents have been very appreciative of these things while others have resented me for it, but I keep doing it because I think it’s important for them to know what is going on day-to-day and to have pictures as they grow.  

My hope is that these photos and updates keep them going throughout their recovery process. My hope is that when the child goes home, maybe they will stay in touch and keep me posted. My hope, my biggest hope, is that this child lives in a good home filled with love, nurturing and guidance. I try to put myself in their shoes - I would lose my mind if my child was taken from me! If I can make it just a little bit easier for the parents by letting them know their child is safe, loved, and treated as one of my own while I’m watching them, so they can  focus 100% on the steps they need to take, then I feel like my job is done. 

So how do I do it?

I do it because I’d rather be hurt than to know kids are hurting with nobody to take care of them while their parents recover. I know it’s going to hurt saying goodbye, but at least I know I was able to take some hurt away for that child while they were with us.

I do it because I want my biological children to learn about what life is like for others. Not everyone has a mom and a dad that live to take care of them. Not everyone lives a life like they do! There are problems out there, there are drugs, there is addiction, and if you get into that life, this is what can happen. 

I want them to learn to have compassion and know that sometimes you give up things you want in order to help others. I do it because it’s our family’s calling. We know it involves heartache, but it also involves so much love and fulfillment watching these babies grow while they are with us. 

My now 1-year-old boy did not even respond to his name when he came to us at 10 months old.  He did not make sounds, he didn’t want to be held, he was afraid of the water and he scratched and pulled at his skin and ears nervously so badly that he made himself bleed. Within a few days, he was responding to his name, he was making sounds, he was understanding sign language. Within a few weeks, the nervous scratching and pulling at ears stopped. He wanted to be held and he was putting his face in the bath water to make bubbles and splashing around in a pool and loving it.  Within a month, he was giving us hugs.

So that’s how we do it. We love them with all we have, we hold them tight until their parents are ready to bring them home, and we see these milestones and we treasure them.