I Develop Deep Bonds With My Foster Children, and It’s My Greatest Privilege

Adult human female anatomy diagram chartAt home insemination

It was the sight of his forgotten toothbrush that broke me. Here I am, parked in a lot, tears streaming down my face. He was in my care for just two and a half weeks, yet during that short time, I witnessed him laugh, finally sleep peacefully instead of trembling in fear, and enjoy endless hours on the swings that my own children often take for granted. He called me “mama,” and I always reassured him that I would return whenever I said I would. I prepared him as best as I could for his new home, but as nap time arrived, his new mother informed me that he was missing me. In an effort to provide him some solace, I sent her a picture to remind him of our time together, hoping it would ease his rest.

Throughout my journey as a foster parent, the most common remark I encounter is, “I could never do foster care; I’d get too attached.” Let me tell you, I’m just like you. I do get attached. I was the one who could soothe him to sleep and knew his favorite jam for toast. I comforted him through his illness and felt frustration when he accidentally broke Christmas ornaments. I even watched him while he slept, my heart overflowing with affection.

To those who fear forming attachments, I want to clarify: I absolutely do get attached. Every single time. I often think about where these children are now, and they occasionally visit me in my dreams, leaving me with tears upon waking. The pain can be overwhelming, making it hard to breathe. But more profoundly, I know that I would rather these precious little ones experience my love than never feel it at all. I would willingly shoulder their pain within my adult heart to lessen their burden. I can handle that. They shouldn’t have to.

It is simply unacceptable for an eight-year-old who has witnessed unimaginable horror to miss out on the love of a stranger who cares for them as their own. It’s unconscionable for a two-year-old to sit in a social worker’s office for days in dirty clothes simply because I fear getting too attached. Yes, I get attached. I always do. But that attachment has become the greatest joy and honor of my life, and I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

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In summary, fostering is a profound journey filled with attachment and love, and while it comes with heartache, the privilege of sharing my life with these children is worth every moment.