An End Date

We officially have a date when we know for sure that our Sammy boy will no longer be in our home. But honestly, with the nature of fostering, a part of me wonders if that will change (because everything is subject to change). We do know that there's a chance he'll leave sooner, but mentally, we're looking at March 31.

While this date has done a world of good for Adam, knowing our family will be restored to just four; it's made things so complex for me. 

It's normal and expected to give tirelessly to your children. Basically until they leave the home. But there's a sense of belonging with them. Nolan and Isaac belong in our family. They have a permanent place that can never be taken away this side of heaven. But that's not the case with fostering. We knew that going into it. But now we're about to live it.

For the past 6 months (and by then it will be 8), our lives have often felt like they revolved around him. His many appointments, his therapies, his visits, his needs. [Again, I wonder if we'll do better about that with the next placement.] Having him in our home has often felt like hard work. Hard work that he absolutely deserves. But it's a humbling feeling to know he's going to walk out of here on March 31. Though this work has mattered, it's so minimal considering all that is to come. Eight months is such a small amount of time in the scheme of life, but it's been such a refining time in our lives. 

Sammy will never remember his time with us, and we will literally never forget it. 

Sammy is going to move to his siblings' foster home, and we are friends with those foster parents. So while I know it's good for him to start bonding with that couple in these 8 weeks before the move happens, it's also hard. I have filled the role of Mama for this little boy, and now I'm going to be handing him over to someone else. And I know that I know that I know that it's a good move. It still feels heavy. There's no way this little boy is going to understand that I had no control in any of these happenings, and that I am not abandoning him. 

I feel quite certain Sammy will be so happy (more happy?) in their home. There won't be two little boys who are ready and eager to pounce on him at any moment. He will have to fight no one for lap space. He will probably be a little on the spoiled side with two parents and 2 older siblings (7 and 10) ready to cater to his every whim. He's going to be just fine. I have no doubts he will continue to thrive. 

But I do know that in order to cope with this change, he will likely look at me with a blank stare after this transition happens. 

We're trying to have regular conversations with the boys about how Sammy has a family that he belongs to, and he will get to go be with his brother and sister very soon. While Nolan nods his head, he quickly adds, "But wouldn't it be great if he stayed in our family forever?" These little boys have loved well. And hard. Like literally tackled him with love repeatedly. 

In some ways it feels harder having a 3 month period of time knowing that this transition is going to happen. I think I would have preferred about 2 weeks. I'm going to live in this tension for 2 more months. 

I've tried to get a good picture that doesn't show this little boy's face, but he literally sits or lays at my feet every.single.night when I'm cooking dinner. He's often my little shadow. And while I know it's 100% healthy for him to attach to me, I'm sad for him to go through another loss. 

So, our first placement has an end date. On April 1st, this Tomberlin family will be a family of 4 again.