One year ago when we called the foster agency we had said we were interested in fostering ONE child, under FIVE. The reply was quick and swift: "That doesn't ever happen. It is always at least a sibling set and there are no babies"
So Scott and I talked and realized we were in fact open to a sibling set. Our apartment might be small but it would work. It's quaint and tiny but I'd like to think it's big on warmth, safety and cozy love. We also decided we would take elementary aged kiddos. I didn't know what to imagine or what my life would look like once we suddenly had a child but I can tell you now I was imagining two siblings, maybe 4 years old and a 7 year old. (something like that)
I DID NOT exactly see us receiving a baby because we were told this isn't how the foster system works. Scott and I have never been parents and the shock of becoming ones so quickly was quite startling. Suddenly I was thrown into the world of baby gear, baby food, sleep schedules, diapers, and teething. I didn't grow with this baby. She was just suddenly here, living in our home, depending on us, US to be a place of refuge, sustenance, nurturance and I quickly felt incompetent to meet all of her screeching and screaming needs.
I went to a grounding yoga class in Portland and it taught me something. The instructor had us get into different positions and inversions and if something didn’t feel quite right she suggested that we first look inward and adjust. Meaning we could practice deep breathing, maybe move our limbs in a way to reduce the stress, perhaps soften our face muscles. She said if that wasn’t enough there was no shame in looking outside of ourselves for external resources. Maybe we needed a block to prop ourself on, maybe we needed a blanket to lay our head on, maybe we needed a bolster for under our knees.
Ever since this class I keep looking inward at my internal resources as a foster parent and realizing (ever so quickly) that I have to look outside of myself. This isn't the time for me to lean on self-sufficiency. It isn't the time to cling tightly to my pride of wanting to be independent. From the trenches and chaos of parenthood THIS IS THE TIME to reach out.
Here’s the truth: I am not enough for baby girl. I don’t mean this in a self deprecating, low self-esteem way. I mean I cannot save her or heal her of all her trauma. This reality is devastating to me. I don’t have enough internal resources for her because I am human and unfortunately not superwoman. But here’s what I’m leaning into: I can ALWAYS reach beyond myself to outside resources. I have emptied myself again and again and so has Scott. I have poured every last drop of myself. I have felt desperate knowing I simply don’t have more left in me. I have come to the end of myself and this is where I meet my own ability to expand. My ability to ask boldly for help from friends, from family, from our church, from our neighborhood, from our social workers and medical and mental health professionals. (And yes my massage therapist).
Scott and I have had the longest meal train in history I believe. All our friends brought homemade dishes, macaroni and cheese, roast chicken, lasagna, turkey burgers, pasta bolognese, salads. They brought us Tender Greens, Inn and Out Burger and Chipotle as well as bearing gifts of diapers and clothes for baby girl. They brought lots of cold brew and took Leonard on walks. Our mail box was jam packed full of books and toys and onesies from our family out of state. Our church offered to watch Heaven at night so we could get some sleep. Our friends offered to watch her so we could have a date, shower, get a massage, or do some errands. Family sent us gift cards that floated us for weeks. Our people DID OUR DISHES. This is the top of what is most vulnerable for me (cleaning our house but specifically dirty gross dishes). Sometimes people came over so Scott could see his physical therapist or so we could go to work (getting a baby suddenly also makes getting into daycare extremely hard. Those wait lists are no joke!). Our team sat with us in the dark of unknowing, held on to hope for us when we just felt like we couldn't, ushered in optimism with tangible acts of service. Sometimes they sent me nail-polish and a face mask because they knew how desperate I was for something to pamper me in my sleep deprivation state.
Our experience has reminded me of the passages in Acts 2&4 where possessions, property, meals and generosity were shared. At the end of chapter 2 it talks about how the "Lord added to their fellowship those who were being saved" And let me tell you; these acts did SAVE ME. They saved me again and again. There were nights (probably around 2am, 3am and 4am) where I did feel lonely, depleted, and isolated but the morning came bursting through with fresh strength. Our friends gave their time, their energy, their love, their mad baby skills and cooking skills to Scott, Leonard and I. Their sharing and generosity really did save us.
Maybe you need to hear this today too. When you come to the end of yourself it is not the end. If you haven't found the inner resources you need look, outside yourself. Ask for help. Here is a new beginning of expansion. It is the hardest and the most brutal/beautiful polarization. And you can get there because of your people. We aren’t meant to live in isolation. We are wired to seek what is bigger and stronger outside of us. I hold to our little village that surrounds us every step of the way. I hold onto sunrises and new beginnings and the sounds of Leonard’s deep peaceful breathing, the sound of waves, the taste of ice cream and the belief that a Mother God gives us other people to be and to hold hope for us when we can’t find it within ourselves.
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