The Final Countdown

We are in the final week of being a fivesome. 

From January to May of last year, we hustled through the process of getting approved to be a foster family. May through July we waited and waited for our first placement, saying, "yes," to several possibilities that didn't end up happening. The final week of July we said yet another, "Yes," and that resulted in Sammy being placed in our home. 

Now, eight months later, we prepare to transition this little guy out of our home. In the fostering world, an eight month placement is actually very short. A biological parent has at least 13 months to work a case plan, and most cases go far beyond that. In reality, Sammy's case isn't even close to being completed. He and his siblings could easily be in the system for another year. This past Christmas, I was sure that Sammy would still be with us the next Christmas. 

But DFCS had other plans. 

As we prepare our hearts, our heads, and our house to exit this little boy, it's been hard. And something about handing Sammy over has also reminded me that I just grieved the loss of a baby. 

The thing is, I know Sammy is going to do just fine, be just fine. He'll thrive in his new home. I know that big picture, this is 100% the right move. We would not adopt Sammy if/when the opportunity presents itself, so he really shouldn't stay any longer. I know that God loves this little boy perfectly, and He is trustworthy in this next step. 

I also know that little boy looks to me as his mama. And that is the piece that brings me to tears just about every time. My friend told me once that kids are excellent imitators and terrible interpreters. Thankfully, Sammy boy is quite young. But it pains me to think about his interpretation of this move. And that's where I trust God to cover Sammy's heart and mind with His relentless love. The ladies I meet with twice a month to pray with were so bold and faith filled in their prayers to ask God that Sammy would even feel loved in the transition. It seems literally impossible. 

But God!

There were many (many!) nights of praying fervently for Sammy as he screamed in protest and fear of sleeping alone in a crib in a home he didn't know. I literally paced his room, pleading for God's mercy. I pictured massive angels standing shoulder to shoulder as they protected Sammy in his crib, shielding him from any evil thing. And that's what I'll continue to pray for this little guy as he adjusts to life in a new home with a new mama who could potentially stay in his life forever. 

I stood at church yesterday and just cried through the worship songs. This loss feels so different than the baby we lost in December. But it still stings. 

I'm so glad we said, "Yes," when we did. It's been a hard, "Yes!" But eight months later, I want to keep saying, "Yes," to these kids. We're going to take a break. But so much about the last eight months has just solidified in my heart that the foster system needs more families in the trenches fighting for these kids. 

On Friday we hand our Sammy boy over. We leave that day to head down to Florida for a Lighthouse trip. Adam and I agree that the person who will need the distraction the most is me. The absence of that tiny but fiery one year old will be felt by all when we return. 

Here we go. It's the final countdown.