10 ways to help a foster child without being a foster parent

As I write this short blog on my phone, I'm cradling Baby Z --- our foster son of almost a year --- in my arms. 

He's fitfully sleeping. I just finished singing "You are my sunshine" ... always keenly aware that the words, "You'll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away..." ring much truer than I would like.

Many of you have told us that you respect our role as foster parents. Some of you have asked how we are going to do it ... you know ... the "giving back" part. (I usually tell you I have no idea how to give a baby back. We haven't done that yet.)

Most of you conclude by saying that you could never do what we do.

I've already done my best to let you know that actually, you could be a foster parent. (And you'd probably make an amazing one.)

In case you still want to help ... but truly believe you can't be a foster parent yourself (yet) ... I want to give you some ideas on how to still help foster children. Because I know your heart (it's awesome), and I know there is still so much left you can do --- even if you can't take a child long-term into your home.

1. Provide meals for foster families when they receive a placement. (And by placement, I really mean a child.)

God made it so that most families have an average of 9 months to prepare physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually for a new baby to enter a family. That gives time to not only grow a human, but also to make freezer meals, hold baby showers, do registries, prepare nurseries, purchase appropriate clothing, and nest to your heart's content.

Foster families only get about 24 hours notice before taking a child (give or take 23 hours). And that's if they are lucky.

Foster care moves quickly ... Usually, it seems ONLY in this stage ... And as a parent, it is OVERWHELMING. 

I have gotten the call about a baby in the morning, and was told to be ready to pick her up, brand-spanking-new, at the hospital that afternoon. 

No matter how much you think you have the room ready, it's not quite enough. You don't know the gender or the age of the child that is going to be placed in your home, till you get the call. You don't know what they will come with --- in our case, only a week's worth of clothes for our foster son. (And we had 0 boy clothes on hand.)

Not only is it hard to prepare, but with a new child, a social worker has to come to the house within 24 hours. You have SO many appointments those first few weeks, it is crazy. There is paperwork, doctor's appointments, sometimes court to attend, day care to set up ... The list is long and crazy.

Plus you have a child that has changed living situations, is living now with strangers, and is likely stressed and possibly traumatized.

All that to say ... Preparing for a child in 24 hours is a lot of work, and stress, and chaos ... Even if the foster parents are happy to do it. A meal would be a ginormous, super amazing, mega huge thing to do for foster families. Like really. Huge like the Hulk. A REALLY BIG DEAL.

If you are far away, consider sending a gift card to a pizza place or take-out restaurant. Or volunteer to organize meals via Mealtrain.

Vow that if a foster family you know gets a new child, you'll let them know meals will be the last thing they have to worry about.

2. Give or lend clothes, age-appropriate toys and books.

After having two girls, all our clothes were decidedly pink, purple or princess. When Baby Z came along ... Well, he didn't have a chance. (And yes, for awhile, his pajamas were quite girly. Sometimes, they still are.) 

Our toys were equally girly. Sure, we had some blocks and Legos and a few other gender neutral toys, but our one and only dump truck was pink and purple. (No joke.)

I'll always remember when my friend Maria came by and dropped off a few bags of boy clothes, plus several boy books and toys. (FINALLY --- a proper boy truck for the boy!) 

I'll also be forever indebted to my girlfriend Alex, for lending me tons of hand-me-downs, helping me keep Z looking good for over 6 months.

A stranger on a local "buy for baby" Facebook group GAVE me her jumper she had originally posted for sale, just because we were foster parents.

These were all huge blessings!

Before you gather up all your unwanted baby items, send them to Goodwill, hold a garage sale, or post them on Craigslist or Facebook ... Call or message your foster friends to see if they need anything.

If you don't know any foster families personally, Google "foster care agencies" then give them a call. Ask if they need any donations of clothes or toys. 

If there are no agencies, call your local DSHS. They have to stock visitation rooms (rooms designated for bio families to visit the kids in a secure, supervised location) with toys, puzzles, books, and baby gear. Many times, they could use some new-to-them toys.

If you have clothes to donate, check in with your local foster care clothing closet.

Your unwanted, unnecessary items to YOU could be a huge blessing for a foster family, and lift a big financial burden from their shoulders. So start giving and start lending!

3. Throw a baby shower for your friends who are fostering.

If you have friends that have just announced they are fostering, or are hoping to adopt from foster care, offer to throw them a shower. While you will always want to check with the foster couple first, I think this is even more important if the family is fostering or adopting because they don't already have biological children. Why make them miss out on this really fun part of becoming a family?

I know this might seem a little untraditional, as foster children are often not permanent additions to the family. But if someone is getting licensed, throw them a shower anyway. They have lots of purchases they'll need to make in order to get their home foster ready. For instance, even though our crib was perfectly safe and in great shape, we had to purchase a brand-new crib because of a state law, just to get licensed. 

You can also help them get caught up on the basics. Do they have a double-stroller if they are intending to take a sibling set? Do they have gift cards for diapers, formula, wipes and clothes? Do they have bedding for the crib, and a smorgasbord of toys or books to keep on hand? 

If a foster child's parental rights have been terminated, and the foster family is moving forward with an adoption, now is the perfect time to offer to celebrate the joyful addition to their family. The focus at this point might not be so much on preparing for baby --- as in many cases, the child has already been living with the family. But this is an opportunity for you to celebrate with them, and let them know that you are just as much in support of their family growing as you would be if they were giving birth.

4. Take their picture.

Are you a photographer? Are you just really handy with a camera? Offer to give their new family, and especially their child, a portrait. While a family portrait is likely not something they'll want to do right away, it can be an amazing gift to parents when their foster child is about to return home. 

It is also a gift to the foster child. Most foster children don't have access to photos of themselves. Help give that child memories to take with them once they leave.

5. Volunteer. 

Our foster agency, West Sound Youth for Christ, holds quarterly trainings for us foster parents. You may not know this, but like physicians and nurses, we are required by state law to do continuing education. 

To help us meet our ongoing training requirements, our agency holds a dinner and training night for our family ... Complete with childcare. Volunteers help prepare and serve our dinner, and watch our kids.

You could be that volunteer! 

6. Organize an Angel Tree at your church for Christmas ... Or purchase gifts for a child featured on the tree.

Our agency partnered with our church this year to provide Christmas gifts to children in care.

Most states DO give a monthly stipend to foster parents who have taken in a child... But that stipend has to cover clothing, food, formula, diapers, wipes, activity expenses, school expenses, extracurricular activities and more. For homes who have taken in several children (or already have several children of their own), Christmas can be somewhat of a financial burden. 

This year, even though we did not request it, Z was placed on a tree, and received many clothes, books and toys. And when he moves back into his bio parent's house, he'll definitely be taking these along with him.

7. Pray.

Foster care is amazing ... And hard. Rewarding... And hard. Totally worth it ... And hard. 

Cover foster families in prayer. Pray for their marriages, and the other children in their home. Pray for healing of children's emotional and physical wounds.

Pray extra hard during transitions. Pray for God's protection on this family as Satan seriously does not like to see his work go undone. And pray for the bio families as well. 

I'm constantly amazed at the people who have told us they pray for our family. Seriously guys. One of the best things you can do. Loving a child like your own and then letting them go takes a super-human love and super-human strength. It is basically God in us. So pray for us. And pray hard.

8. Provide respite.

Did you know that is some states, you can babysit foster children, even overnight, without being licensed? 

In Washington state, trusted friends and families can care for a child for up to 48 hours without having to be licensed. This is JUST enough time for a couple to get away for a weekend, reconnect, and put some of the stress of foster care behind them ... At least for a while.

When Z was not sleeping (and by that, I mean he was waking up anywhere from every 20 minutes to 6 times a night), friends Jessica and Jamel took Z for a weekend ... So Ryan and I could get some much needed sleep. This was another really.big.deal. (Sleep and food are pretty much at the top of my priority list, can you tell?)

You can also get licensed JUST to provide respite. Respite is overnight, state-paid babysitting for foster kids. You don't have to take a child long-term, and you get to decide when, the ages, and how long you want to provide respite ... But this is a HUGE need that doesn't require a long-term commitment. 

Currently, because of vaccination laws, there is a shortage of homes for foster babies under age 2. And this means that finding respite through our agency is extremely difficult, as they have lost half of the homes that were available to these children. 

If you think you could love on some children for a weekend, or a week or two ... Contact an agency and find out how you can become licensed for respite.

9. Donate. 

Some foster parents have extra needs. Like this family here. Meet my friend Shellie. She is caring for 7 children, 2 of them medically-fragile foster kids, in spite of her chronic health issues and crazy busy schedule. In order for them to continue caring for these two children, they need to purchase a 12-passenger van, as Shellie can no longer drive at nights --- making their current system of taking two cars everywhere impossible. 

If you have been blessed with extra, consider giving to a foster family in need.

Or donate to a non-profit foster agency, like Youth for Christ. 

10. Become a foster parent.

Ok, ok. I said you didn't have to become a foster parent to help.  And clearly there are LOTS of ways to help without getting licensed yourself. But you can't SERIOUSLY expect me to write a post about helping foster kids without mentioning becoming a foster parent yourself, can you?

I just want to encourage you to mull it around for a while. Call an agency or DSHS and find out what's involved. Talk to your partner. Look at your house and see if there's room for two more little feet.

I'm not saying foster care is for everyone . . . but that's the point, right? It's not really FOR US.

It's for hurting, abused, neglected kids who need love, security, and a place to call H-O-M-E.

You don't have to have a lot of living space, be the perfect parent, be a stay-at-home parent, have tons of nice things or a huge income to be a foster parent. You need love, and patience, and the willingness to be inconvenienced for the sake of a child.

We all see horrible news stories every night of children that are taken from abusive situations, or have been neglected, sexually abused, and sometimes murdered. We have seen with our eyes ... Even if we didn't want to --- the plight of these hurting kids. 

Yes, they system is far from perfect, and yes, it's hard. (I think I mentioned that a time or three.) But it is worth it.

As part of our family's legacy, we can say that we have taken in a child who was starved for love and nutrition, helped him catch up completely, given him the tools to love and attach to others, and know what it means to have a family. And this legacy is one that our own children will grow up knowing. (Not to mention the fact that one of my own children would not be here of it weren't for us taking the plunge, and deciding to do foster care.)

How amazing would it be for this to be your legacy too? 

You can do respite, receiving care, adoption only, short-term or long-term care ... You can take babies from the hospital or college students who need a home to go to on weekends and holidays. You choose what you are comfortable saying "yes" to.

So before you just say, "I can't do it . . . " I want you to ask yourself, "What if I can?"

No matter which of the 10 ways you choose to help without becoming foster parent  (OK, OK, it's really 9 ways) . . . let's lock arms and start changing these kids' lives one meal, one toy, one outfit, one prayer, and one sleepless night at a time. 

Because THEY ARE WORTH IT.

Three tiny, wee little letters we just couldn't say

In my lifetime, I've met a few phantom babies.

Or rather, I didn't meet them.

They were the what ifs, could haves, wish it could have beens, once was, now no more babies. They WERE. But they weren't. All at once. Some I called mine. Others I never once had a claim on.

I've never seen any of my phantom babies. Not on an ultrasound, not in person.

And yet each and every one has a little part of my heart.

We met another phantom baby this week.

Well, we didn't really meet him. But we learned his first name. I knew he was 9 lbs, and scored an 8 on the Apgar test. I knew he was 2 days old, and I knew why he was being taken at birth from his mom. I knew he was healthy.

I knew that the moment I saw him, I would fall head over heels for him.

And I knew he could be my foster son the very next day if all I did was utter three tiny, wee little letters. "y-e-s."

I think Ryan and I both WANTED to say yes.

As soon as I got the call just before 6 pm, I woke Ryan up from his nap. And we started planning. There was no time to lose. We had just 3 hours to make our decision.

"Ok, could we use a pack and play in our room for the first few weeks? What will we need to get? When could he start day care if we needed it?" We texted our social worker, drilling her for answers to every question that came to mind.

Most people take years or at least months to decide to have a baby. Then they have an additional 8-10 months to PLAN and make room for said child.

We had 3 hours to decide. And less than 24 before he would be a semi-permanent place in our home.

As the 3 hours wore on, our questions changed.

"If Ryan is overwhelmed with taking on 2 training positions at work, how will he feel having to come home to a newborn, and not getting much rest at night? Will Rachel be able to keep up her momentum in her business? How will we cope if/when it's time to say good-bye? How will this impact Leyla and her high-needs?"

(Maddy, we knew, would acclimate pretty well. She REALLY wanted this baby. Her prayer that night was darling. "Dear God, please help all of us be really good parents to this baby [because she's a parent now??], and make tonight go by really fast so we can hurry up and get our baby brother. Amen.")

I felt somehow that meeting him might make it clear to me, so I asked our worker if we could go to the hospital to see him. (Maybe I was just hoping he would be so stinking cute, there'd be no way we could say no.) Had it been earlier in the day, we could have met him. But not then.

I knew it was just as well.

We prayed. We took time alone. We took time together. We called our closest family for advice and to ask for prayer. We got food to-go, and took the kids to the park.

I stared at the clouds, wishing an answer would just land on my heart. Some sort of assurance that whatever was God's will would become so apparent to me. The only thing I got was that God was really, really big.

No white dove came.

I prayed, "God, I want to do your will. If saying yes to this is saying yes to your will, by all means I'll say yes. If saying no means saying yes to you, then we'll say no. Please just make it clear!"

As I took Leyla in the stroller around Lion's Park, and watched a family of 5 closely as I strolled by. I longed to stop them and interrogate them. "Your kids are spaced like mine are. Tell me, what was adding the 3rd like? Can you handle it? Was it overwhelming? How did you cope? What advice can you give?"

Instead, I smiled prettily at their adorable family, and pretended that I wasn't making a momentous, life-altering decision at that moment and was desperate for their help. (Because they were experts after all on our situation. Having 3 kids spaced just so apparently made them perfect candidates for advice.)

When we packed up and came home, we put the kids to bed. We both were getting exhausted, but no closer to a decision.

We talked more to family, and the deadline was ticking up on us.

Closer, and closer, and closer the minutes turned to hours, and 9 approached us like a freight train.

And we were nowhere near ready for it.

9 came.

9 went.

Stress came and snuggled closely between Ryan and I. I could tell we were now on different pages. He was ready to say no. I still wasn't convinced.

As 10 came, I still had no peace either way. Ryan was disappointed to have to say no, but in his mind, there really wasn't any alternative.

I think I knew the answer would be no all along. It's just that I didn't want to acknowledge it. I didn't want to admit that maybe I couldn't handle it right now. I didn't want to tell this sweet little tiny baby that, "I'm so sorry you're being taken from your mommy right now, but we don't want to disrupt OUR little family either. So, I hope someone takes you in."

I made Ryan text our social worker our decision.

Then I read it, didn't like his wording, stole the phone back, and wrote my own reply.

"I wish with all my heart our answer were yes. You know I would love to have a newborn baby in my home. But after talking about it with Ryan, and praying and talking to friends/family, we feel it's in the best interest of our little family to say no for right now."

I made him push "send."

And then I added ...

"Even though it kills me to say that."

And it did. As soon as we sent it, I wanted to unsend it. I wanted my words back, and I wanted to change them to a y-e-s. I wanted to be crazy busy trying to prepare my home for a newborn in less than 12 hours. I wanted to post on Facebook that we were adding someone to our family for a little while. I wanted to serve God and I wanted to serve this little baby.

But I couldn't forget that first, God has called me to serve the people I'm in relationship with NOW. Ryan and I made some big decisions recently about focusing on our family and getting US to where we want to be.

And if having this baby stretched me too thin -- or was too hard on Ryan -- I didn't want there to be this feeling of "YOU chose this for our family!" instead of "WE chose this for our family -- and we'll make it through."

And so, the text stayed just as it was.

And phantom baby has entered my life. He hasn't quite left it yet. And maybe he won't.

And maybe it's just as well, because it reminds me to pray for him.

As I drove to visit our new baby cousin yesterday, I could "see" baby J's newly installed car seat from the rear view mirror. I imagined hearing him cry during his first car ride. I imagined wrangling my two kids and him in and out of our errands yesterday. I envisioned holding him proudly as I chatted with my new business builder over coffee. I envisioned the messy diapers, the 3 am feedings, wearing him as I made dinner and tried to keep Leyla from some crazy accident.

I envisioned taking pictures of Maddy holding her brother. And Leyla trying to gently poke his eyes.

And I pictured the social worker appointments, and doctor's visits, and nutritionists and physical therapists, and all the other people we might need to meet regularly with, like we did for Leyla. And I envisioned packing him up to go visit his mom, then worry that he wasn't doing well there, but never knowing for sure.

And so today, as I packed up for play group and an Arbonne coffee date, phantom baby joined us too.

There was some comfort in his presence. Even if admitting all this makes me sound like a crazy person. He is the baby we almost had. He is the baby I wanted, but needed to let go.

I will never know the answer to what if.

"What if he was meant to be our son? What if the home that took him wasn't safe? What if he needed us? What if we were supposed to say yes?"

But at least I can know the answer to the things that I most assuredly need to know.

Can Ryan and I make a decision and respect each other's needs in the process?  Can we accept our limitations as a family?  Can we trust that God is bigger than us and bigger than our decision?  Can we rely on the support of our friends and family no matter what decision we make? Will we chose to make our marriage and our children our top priority over ministry?

Without a doubt, the answer to all of the above is a resolute YES.

We said no to a baby. But said three, wee little tiny letters to our marriage and to each other.

"y-e-s."

And maybe, just maybe one day, we can say those letters again to our marriage, our kids AND a foster child all at the same time.

In the meantime, phantom baby is still on my heart. And I pray for his wee little life. And I would ask that you do the same too.

Fostering-to-adopt: Our story, Part 2

First, a very few important links you'll want to look over.
 
Find Part 1 of our story here.
 
Deanna, Leyla's first foster mom, wrote their version Leyla's story here:  Part 1,  Part 2 and Part 3.
 
I highly recommend going through all the posts before continuing here. Now, I know that sounds like a lot of reading before you get to, well, you know, reading . . . but it's really worth it. I promise. Deanna's even a good writer. :)

Ok, so without further ado . . . Part 2.

It's the first week of January 2013.

I'm still reeling from the failed, but hoped-for, foster placement of a newborn baby girl. We just had Christmas, Maddy's birthday, and the 1-year anniversary of our loss of Olivia.

I remember being invited out with some new friends to go dancing at a bar a few days after Christmas. Ryan encouraged me to get out of the house, and have something fun to do. (The dance at the bar was a different story entirely, but I'll suffice it to say I did very little dancing and was hit on by an Amish guy. Ask me the story another day.) :)

At dinner, one of the girls commented that I seemed sad. And I was. I was sad all.the.freaking.time. I really didn't know how to be happy again. And so I was totally honest about it all with them. I told them of the babies I'd lost (talk about an awkward "fun" night out) and I told them that it felt like my life had just been sucked out of me.

So, when I got the call to do respite for a 10-month-old baby, I wasn't really in a great place emotionally. But man, was I ready to have that baby in my home for a weekend.

The caseworker sent me Leyla's foster mom's email so I could check in with questions. As you could imagine, I had quite a few as I had never met this baby before and we would have her for an entire weekend.

So I shot her off the following email:

Hi Deanna,

I'm just writing to find out about arrangements for Leyla's respite care.

What time should we take her tomorrow? Would you like us to pick her up, or are you planning on dropping her off?

Also, I was wondering if you would let me know about her normal eating/sleeping routine.

The notes said that she's been clingy and crying more. Is there anything that is soothing to her? Does she like to be in the Ergo carrier?

One last thing -- Depending on when you pick her up on Sunday (or we drop her off), she will be attending church with us. Is it OK for her to go in the nursery?

 

Here's an excerpt from her reply:

 

Hi Rachel, 

Leyla can be a pretty fussy baby and has a very loud cry when she is upset. But when she is in a good mood she is so sweet and delightful and a joy to be around. Her moods definitely swing though. Sometimes she likes the Ergo, sometimes she hates it. She loved it this week when we went outside for a walk. She loves to swing, so if the weather is nice a park visit would be a hit. She typically enjoys riding in the car or stroller rides. 

She generally sleeps through the night, after bath, a bottle, and some cuddles and stories. We usually sing to her and pray with her before putting her in her bed with a little music to put her to sleep. During naps we have a fan going in her room for white noise (it gets loud with two other little people running around!) and that helps her sleep longer for sure. We typically put her in a blanket sleeper at bedtime and naps, and she has a special blankie too. I'll be sure to pack that for you.

Typically she is up in the morning at 6:30, but the last few days she has been sleeping until 8:30. It's been insane and I'm wondering if she's gearing up for a growth spurt. Usually she is in bed by 6:30 or 7:00 pm, and she will definitely let you know if she is over tired.

We give her a bottle when she wakes up, then feed her some real food an hour or so later. She is typically ready for a morning nap about 2 hours after waking up, and then ready for an afternoon nap 2-3 hours after waking from her morning nap. She doesn't sleep so well in the carseat or being held; the girl loves a crib. (emphasis mine.)

 

We kind of play by ear giving her real food or a bottle depending on when she is awake and when the rest of the family is eating. She eats purees (we thicken with a little cereal) like a champ and devours cheerios and crackers. But she is struggling with squishy foods like bananas, steamed carrots, baked apples, cheese, etc. So we keep offering these things to her, and try to have her eat with the family and give her tiny pieces of what we're eating. The sweet child still has no teeth, so we do what we can. I was just at the doctor today and he was concerned a bit with her weight, so he wants us to be sure we offer at least 4 bottles a day. 

I'll pack you bottles, formula, baby food, clothes, pajamas, diapers, wipes, etc. Besides her blankie, is there anything else you need? Toys or spoons or anything?

Yes, church nursery is fine. With daycare, mops, and our church she is used to multiple caregivers and as long as she has attention, she is usually pretty happy.

 



So, Ryan and I got ready for our baby to enter our family for a weekend.

We didn't know she'd be staying the rest of her life.

I'll never forget the moment Deanna and Darin walked through our door for the first time. They brought in the cutest little bundle in a carseat. We small-talked in our entry way as we went over her routine again, and everything they packed (the poor family had to pack everything but the kitchen sink), and we talked about pick up plans on Sunday. Then they were off.

And facing me was a darling girl that was a little bit fussy. She had big, big eyes. (And a big forehead. But she's growing into it.) And a tiny, wee little body.

Leyla, a few weeks before we met.

For the first time in a while, I felt a lightness and a joy. Sometimes babies do that to you.

Ryan probably wondered what happened to his wife, as I quickly took her off to play. He may not really have seen much of me the rest of the weekend. :)

The first night, I totally (intentionally) disregarded the whole thing about just putting her in her crib. I never knew a baby that didn't like to be rocked, and I was ready to rock. The second night, before we put her down, I snapped this shot:

I remember thinking that her eyes looked a little empty. I later learned that this was all part of her coping mechanisms. Shutting down a little, sucking her fingers, and twirling her finger in her hair (or rubbing her forehead.)

As I rocked her, I noticed another odd behavior. She turned away from me, and covered her eyes with one hand.

I later learned that this is what she does when she's overstimulated.

It's just as well I didn't know. That girl was rocked, sung to, and generally loved on for a very long time.

And a really strange thought came to me as I rocked.

This little girl is mine.

I didn't want to admit the thought to anyone. After all, we didn't know much of anything about her case, other than why she was in care and how long she had been with first family. The child even came with a picture book that said "My Family" on it, with pictures of her with her foster family on the inside.

Even as my heart assured me this little one had a place in it forever . . . . my mind thought I was being a little ridiculous. Maybe it was just the grief talking? Maybe I was so desperate, I was a little crazy?

All I knew for sure was that I was crazy about this little girl.



Leyla rocked to sleep in my arms
 the first of many, many times.

That night, I marveled at how tiny she was in that great big crib that stood empty for so long. A mere 15 lbs, and sleeping kind of folded over, she barely even made her presence known on that grand mattress.

But I knew she was here.

I couldn't sleep that night. Not because she was a bad sleeper. Quite the contrary, she slept through the night. I, on the other hand, was a hot mess. I was so worried that something would happen to her. She survived the night (as did I, albeit much more tired than she) and we pressed on through our weekend.

She had just learned how to crawl, and it cracked me up watching Ryan try to "wrangle" her into just staying in one part of the house. He even set up pillow barricades . . . all to no avail.

I was sure that her first foster mom was missing Leyla, so I sent quite a few texts and photos to her during the weekend. We ended our time with her by taking her to our grandma's birthday party at Anthony's.

I'm not going to lie. I held that baby, fed that baby, walked that baby like she was mine. Because secretly, I really wanted her to be.

A few of my Facebook posts from that weekend:

"Enjoying my 6 o'clock time in the rocking chair! I forgot just how peaceful it is. Hoping one day soon we'll have our own placement, and can make this an everyday kind of thing."

"A very good morning."

"Treating Maddy. She did so well helping with the baby!"

First family let us know that they would be needing some more respite soon since Deanna would be doing some more travelling. I couldn't wait. It was the hope of the next visit that helped me get through some of those darker days.

For me, when Leyla came into our home, a light started shining in my heart.

It did not erase the pain of loss. It has not protected me from further loss or heartache.

But God used her little presence to start some healing in my heart.

Funny. I always thought it was the children themselves who were broken and we were supposed to fix. Turns out, I had the equation all wrong.

Stayed tuned for Part 3: The big reveal!

Why I absolutely cannot recommend adoption

 

 

 

I want you to know I absolutely cannot recommend adopting.

 

 

Financially, you'll have to make some adjustments by adding a child to your home. You might end up with a child who has special needs. And some of those needs might not show up for years down the road! Physically, it can be exhausting to take care of an additional child. And their emotional needs can be downright draining. You'll have other adults in your life telling you what you should do with your child, and what you shouldn't. You'll have people asking personal questions about your own fertility and family planning methods. Honestly, you risk a pretty significant loss if you grow to love a child, and then you lose them. 

 I guess by that standard, I have to say I absolutely do not recommend getting pregnant either.

 

Financially, you'll have to make some adjustments by adding a child to your home. You might end up with a child who has special needs. And some of those needs might not show up for years down the road! Physically, it can be exhausting to take care of an additional child. And their emotional needs can be downright draining. You'll have other adults in your life telling you what you should do with your child, and what you shouldn't. You'll have people asking personal questions about your own fertility and family planning methods. Honestly, you risk a pretty significant loss if you grow to love a child, and then you lose them. (And with pregnancy, you put yourself at some pretty serious health risks too.)

So yeah. Growing your family -- pretty risky business. And I can't totally recommend it.

 

Other than to say -- it is absolutely, 100% worth the risk.

Fostering-to-Adopt: Our story, Part 1

Our Maddy.
On the vacation where we truly started the foster care process.

Today, I saw a post on Creating a Family's Facebook page on the merits of adopting from foster care. And, naturally, there are several comments talking about how it's unethical to foster-to-adopt, and it's not in the best interest of children or families. And there are equally as many comments on how it's the perfect way to adopt and costs absolutely nothing.

Since I can't whole-heartedly agree with either sentiment, I thought I'd take some time to tell you about our experience with foster care.

(And -- it's probably long overdue anyway.) :)

Plus -- I know many of you (my readers) struggle with infertility or the inability to keep a pregnancy. If you are already wondering about adopting, I really want you to have this information.

First, a few statistics.

According to AdoptUSKids, "each year more than 20,000 children age out of the foster care without being adopted. Today there are 104,000 children in foster care waiting to be adopted ranging in age from less than a year old to 21."

And just how many children are in foster care, anyways?

"More than 250,000 children in the U.S. enter the foster care system every year. While more than half of these children will return to their parents, the remainder will stay in the system. Most of these children are living with foster families, but some also live in group facilities."

Ok -- just in case you didn't really get that . . . I'm going to repeat it.

A quarter of a million children enter foster care every year. EVERY YEAR.

Got it? Quarter of a million.
Like -- A. Lot. Of. Kids.

Half go to their original families. Half stay in the system until they age out or are adopted.

So that's 125,000 children every year that will need a new family.

Just to make sure we're all on the same page here . . . there are A LOT of kids that need a home.

You likely know some foster children and don't even realize it. Most of us foster parents don't go around actively saying, "Hi -- this is so-and-so. She's my foster child." (Actually, in my state, it's illegal to do so. For good reason. So really, there are more kids you run into who are in the system than you probably ever realized.)

Alright -- so now that we've got some statistics out of the way, I'm going to ask you to do me a favor. Take a short little break here, and read THIS post on why I chose to adopt from foster care.

OK -- are you back now? Fabulous.

So, for my family . . . we choose to adopt from foster care because we wanted to make a difference in a vulnerable child's life. For US -- it did involve some sort of "rescue mentality." (Some people are critical of that -- but that's my heart, and I'm being true to my journey.) I will say at this point, that some people adopt from foster care not necessarily to rescue a child, but because they want to add to their family. There is no judgment from me either way on what your motivation is. Both, to me, are equally valid motivations.

Now that you know the why, I'm going to tell you our "how."

When Maddy was almost 2, I felt strongly that we should start classes for foster care. Ryan was on board. I contacted the state, and they sent me a little package with very little information. Mostly just a case worker's contact info, and the class schedule. They told me (over email, I believe) to sign up for a class. So I did.

We got babysitting the first night of class, and drove to the building the class was held. Only to find a sign that said that DSHS was closed that day for a state holiday.

"What?? How did a state employee tell me to register for a class that was supposed to be held in a closed building due to a holiday?" And just like that, I decided that if the state couldn't get it together enough to actually get me to a class correctly, there was no heck of the way I was letting the state into my home. I contacted the social worker about my dismay -- and didn't even hear back again for about 6 months. And it was another email, kinda like, "Hey -- we missed you at class half-a-year ago. Are you still interested in foster care?" I didn't respond.

And that was that. At least for while.

At work, two friends started the process to adopt from foster care. They had gone through an agency called Youth For Christ. I was still skeptical -- but after watching how different their experience was, I asked for more information.

While I was gone on vacation, I contacted Youth For Christ, and we ended up chatting for about an hour on what our family was looking for. When I got home, I had a very detailed package waiting for me with tons of information on foster care and adoption. I was impressed at the difference I saw right away between working with the state and an agency. (I'll talk more about the perks of using an agency in a subsequent post.)

Ryan was again on board, and we started the paperwork right away. And there was A LOT of it. (And by a lot, I kinda mean like the whole 1/2 a million statistic. A LOT!!)

It took me several months to finish all the paperwork. We had a home inspection. We completed our state's requirement of a 36-hour-class. (Which, by the way, is like taking on another full-time job in one week.) We became certified in CPR and first-aid. We got finger-printed and had background checks. We had several friends and family become references for us. We had a home inspection, and did a homestudy interview -- where you basically allow a stranger access into all your private details.

I have a history of depression and anxiety. I was concerned that this would be an issue, but the licensor was OK with it, as long as I had a plan (medication and counseling) if I had a setback.

We disclosed all of our medical histories, as well as our family backgrounds. We bought a new crib as was required, even though Maddy's crib was barely 2 years old and in fabulous condition. We locked up all our medicine, got a correctly sized fire extinguisher, and made sure we were current on all our immunizations. And made sure our home passed a checklist about 4-5 pages long of safety issues. Oh, and we got physicals to verify that we were physically fit to parent.

The whole process from the first phone call to receiving our license was a little over 3 months.

We chose to get licensed for a child ages 0-5. We wanted to keep the birth order in tact, so we would really only take a child in if they were 2 or under . . . but we needed to be licensed for longer in case the child would be with us for several years.

We also wanted to take a child that would likely be available for adoption. We knew that our goal as foster parents would first and foremost be to promote reunification with their biological parents. But in case that wasn't what the state had decided would be in the best interest of the child, we wanted to have them be apart of our forever family.

To "minimize" some of the risk of heartbreak on our end, in case we grew very attached to a child and have to say "good-bye", we asked that we only hear about children who would likely need a forever home. For our situation, this would include a mom who gave birth but the court had already deemed her an unfit mom and the child would immediately go into an adoptive situation. Or a child who had already been in the system for over a year, and the state was adding to the reunification plan an alternate plan to adopt the child out. Or a child that was already legally-free that met our other specifications. (I know this sounds like custom-ordering a car, or something. But I do believe you really need to be specific about what you and your family are up for or not.)

We also chose no significant health needs (as I didn't feel capable of handling severe special needs).

Naturally, we hoped for a call right away. Because that sometimes happens. But that was NOT our journey.

About one month after getting licensed, we found out we were pregnant with Olivia. Once she died, I realized I really, really, really wanted another biological child. All my efforts from that point went to getting pregnant and trying to keep the baby. Several times after Olivia died, I questioned whether or not we even wanted to pursue fostering anymore.

I conveyed such questioning to our licensor (something that really had ramifications for us . . . but I'll talk about that later).

We found out we had ANOTHER 36-hour class to attend, and I just wasn't ready for the commitment. I was at a crossroads whether to continue to keep our license up, or just to let it all go. (You can read about this part of the journey HERE).

In the end, we chose to continue and attend the class. But this time, my husband was able to do it by himself, so I could just watch Maddy and it all worked out.

A few times during this time we were asked to provide respite for another foster family.

In this case, respite basically means state-paid-for overnight babysitting. The first time we were asked, we readily agreed. The deal was we would pick up the one-year-old at her daycare and have her for the weekend. I was leery about the arrangement -- what one-year-old would be OK going home with perfect strangers?? -- but that was the plan and we stuck to it.

EXCEPT.

Ryan went to go pick up the girl, and she wasn't there. Panicked, he called me. "Great," we're both thinking. "This is our first time fostering, even for a weekend, and we've already lost the child!" Turns out it was a miscommunication, and the parents decided to opt out of getting respite that weekend. They thought the caseworker told us. She thought they had called us.

So our first respite was a total flop.

The second time we were asked was for a little boy for Christmas Day. How strange, again, that someone wouldn't want their foster child on Christmas Day? This time, for the sake of the child, we said no. He screamed a lot and didn't handle transitions -- and our Christmas Day is ALL about going back and forth from family to family from 7 am-midnight. We felt our Christmas plans would not be enjoyable or relaxing to him at all.

A full year after getting licensed with NO other call for a child (respite or otherwise), the director of the agency asked to come meet with us.

It turns out that since I had mentioned my hesitations to our licensor, our "file" was put on the shelf. Meaning, when a child needed a home -- we weren't ever put forward as a potential home. Which explained the pretty much full year of silence.

We were actually at the point where we DID want a foster child in our home, and conveyed that to her. And we were put back in the running.

And one month later, FINALLY -- we got our first call for a placement! WOOO-HOOOO!!!

At this point, I was desperate (and yes, I do mean desperate) for a child to be in my arms. At this point, I had two children die while I was pregnant with them in the last year. And my 1-year-anniversary with Olivia was coming right up. And it was just a few days before Christmas. I felt that the timing was great. Plus, this was a perfectly healthy newborn girl, born just the day before, who would likely be adopted because the mother had already been deemed unfit to parent.

So, before our director could even get the question out of her mouth, I was already (practically) shouting, "YES! We want her!"

Sadly, the way the situation unfolded was something that left me heart-broken (even more), and I was totally unprepared for. While it was not a true loss, having the hope of this little girl then "losing her" to another family absolutely tore at my heart and left me broken.

When was enough enough???

And then came Leyla.

Click here for Part 2.

Choosing forever

The following is the post I wrote for little miss the day we were asked to be her adoptive family. Before my husband and I even said yes, I knew that I knew that I knew I wanted her in our family . . . forever.




There is the cutest, sweetest little creature. You haven't met her yet. But she's real. I so wish I could post a picture!

I have a few photos of her, and every day I scroll through them (ok, multiple times a day.)

Sometimes I simply appreciate her absolute cuteness. Other times, I pray for her. Most of the time, I just wonder if one day soon she will be ours.

I hope we get to keep her.

As I relish in her cuteness, I remember this isn't just a baby we might adopt. She is a child, who will one day be an adult. As a baby, child or adult ... She will be a part of our family forever.

FOREVER. What a big word. Sometimes I wonder ... am I really old enough yet to be making decisions about FOREVER?

It is so easy to imagine dressing a baby up and proudly showing her off at the park, church, restaurant, zoo, mall, grocery store, the north pole. Seriously. I mean what woman doesn't want to tote around the most gorgeous little creature and have everyone looking, and smiling and cooing at your precious bundle?

But forever reminds me that those are just moments in a lifetime. There is still a lifetime to go.

One day, we'll be helping this little one potty train. We'll get through the terrible twos, and threes, and thirteens. We'll work until midnight on her science fair project. We'll clean her up when she's sick, and brush her off when she's fallen down. We'll cry with her when the Junior High girls don't let her into their clique. We'll remind her life will go on when a boy breaks her heart. We will watch her graduate, cheer her on at games, and walk her down the aisle.

We'll teach her about Jesus. We'll tell her how God loves us so much, He wanted us to be apart of his family forever.

Just like we love her. Just like we want her in our family.

Forever.



Today, we chose forever on paper.

But a year ago, I chose forever in my heart.

We love you little miss. Welcome to your forever family.

Mommy

 

 

 

One phrase you MUST NOT SAY to an adoptive mom -- and 8 reasons why

I've heard it. You've heard it. Maybe you've said it.

You know someone. I know someone. Maybe you know 10 someones.

And yet saying it is seriously not cool.

 "As soon as you adopt, you'll get pregnant."

Ok, ok, I have an idea of what you're thinking.

"Rachel . . . seriously. Lighten up. It's just a little joke. You know, a little wink wink nudge nudge. Could you just not be so serious all the time!"

So, I take your challenge. And let me assure you, I do have a sense of humor. I'm even used to being teased. My husband is awesome at it. So is my dad. In fact, in my family, teasing IS a love language. (The first one.) So for most things, I'll let you slide. I'll even laugh a little.

But on this one thing -- could we PLEASE just stop saying this.

In case you aren't convinced still, let me tell you why I don't like it. (And to my knowledge, very few people who have adopted DO like it.)

1  -- No one likes a "know it all."

When a friend adopts a child, then announces a pregnancy later (no matter how much later), please just zip up this little phrase and keep it far from your lips.

When you say, "I just knew you'd get pregnant as soon as you adopted . . . ", you are in essence saying, "Everyone knew exactly what was going to happen to your uterus the moment you added a child to your life. Aren't you so glad you know now what the rest of us have known forever?"

Instead say, "I'm so glad *adopted baby* will be a big brother/sister."

2 -- You assume that they are adopting because they can't get pregnant.

The first time I was told this awful phrase was from a co-worker. (OK, you're still not convinced it's awful. Give me a minute.)

I had excitedly told her we were starting the process to get licensed as foster parents, with the hope of adopting. Her response?

"Now that you're adopting, you'll get pregnant."

I was TOTALLY taken aback. Our daughter Maddy was 2. We conceived her from just skipping a few birth control pills on accident. We had no losses. . .  no reason to believe that if we didn't just skip a few pills, we wouldn't be pregnant with another healthy child. In fact, I was convinced I was Mrs. Fertile Myrtle herself.

We weren't adopting because we couldn't get pregnant. We just wanted to adopt!

Instead say, "I'm so happy for you."

3 -- You take the focus off the child being adopted.

Imagine going to the hospital to meet a friend's brand-new baby. Instead of ooh'ing and ahh'ing over their precious little bundle, you say, "Now that you've had a baby, you are SOOOO going to get pregnant again right away.  It always happens. It happened to a friend's cousin I once knew."

Of course, your friend likely doesn't want to hear commentary on her fertility at that point. She just wants you to celebrate the beautiful addition to her family she has RIGHT NOW.

Instead say, "Your child is such a blessing."

4 -- Adoption is a way to add to your family. Adoption is not a fertility treatment.

"You know. We've tried IVF. We've tried ICSI, and IUs. We've run every test. We've given you every medication we can. In fact, you've had the best science has to offer at your fingertips. But -- have you ever thought about just adopting? So many women get pregnant THE MOMENT they adopt. It happened to one of my patients years ago. Come to think of it, why didn't we do that earlier and save you all the money and pain from the treatments??  Yeah . . .  So, go adopt, and see me again when you've gotten that positive pregnancy test. Consider that a prescription." -- said NO reproductive endocrinologist EVER.

If fertility doctors aren't saying it -- please -- please -- please -- don't you say it.

(Besides, adopting doesn't take away the pain of infertility either. Trust me on this one.)

Instead say, "You've had a long journey to get here. We're here for you all the way."

5 -- Adoption is not a consolation prize. And pregnancy is not First Place.

Whether you mean it to or not, this hated phrase sounds a lot like . . . "Now that you've gone through adoption, you can get what you REALLY wanted all along."

Adding to your family through adoption is not a lesser way to have a child. Neither is pregnancy the Holy Grail of family planning.

Instead say, "I love that your family chose to adopt."

6 -- Speaking of family planning, it's not really your business.

I'm guilty of this. (Although, recently, much less so.) For some reason, we think that the way others plan their family is totally our business. (It's not.)

If someone chooses to pursue pregnancy at the same time as pursuing adoption, by all means let them. (Without your commentary.)

Maybe they are adopting an older child and want to have their children spaced just-so. Maybe they weren't sure which would work out first -- adoption or pregnancy. So they were working on them both at the same time. Maybe they have a condition (me) that makes their biological clock tick much faster. Maybe they've had multiple losses while they've tried to adopt, and it just so happens that the baby they were able to keep coincided with the child they were adopting.

Instead say, "I'm here to support you as you grow your family however and whenever you choose."

7 -- It makes it sound like infertility (if they have it) is just all in their head.

Ok, I know this one is a stretch. But follow me out on this one.

The idea behind the "just adopt so you can get pregnant" philosophy is that someone has an aching need, a need so great and so big, it's self-destructive. They don't have something because they want it too much, or are just trying too hard.

And finally, once that need (aka a baby) is filled through adoption, their body magically opens itself up to more babies. Ta-da!!!

So the reason they weren't getting pregnant wasn't that they had poly-cystic ovaries. Or their husband had crappy sperm. Or their uterus was an abnormal shape. Or they had an autoimmune disorder. Or they had a chromosomal abnormality. Or their fallopian tubes were blocked.

No. None of that. It was just all in their head. Right?

Instead say, "I wish I could have spared you from all the pain you've endured on your way to growing your family."

(Please only say this if you know for a fact they've endured pain. Again, don't assume infertility unless you know for sure.)

8 -- This phrase never gives someone warm fuzzies.

Along our adoption journey, I've had this said to me every time I've gotten pregnant. I've been pregnant 4 times since we started this process -- and each baby did not make it.

Now that we will have officially adopted (as of this Tuesday), I fear that I will hear this whenever we get pregnant again in the future.

Adopting, or starting the process of adopting, did not save any one of my much-wanted babies. Having my adopted child to hold and love has NOT solved the fertility issues I now face.

If we get pregnant again, and carry to term, it will be an act of God. And will have nothing to do with adoption.

In this time of adoption -- and in the subsequent time of maybe having another biological child if God allows -- please do give me lots warm fuzzies.  And not cold pricklies.

(And if you were still confused, the "you'll get pregnant now that you've adopted" is definitely a cold prickly to me.)

Instead say, "I love your family. And am so glad to be a part of your life." And trust me, I know that you do. And I love being a part of your life, too.

We have a date!!!

"HELLO WORLD! I'm about to become a Lewis -- for real!" 

We have a date!

April 15 -- otherwise known as the day you pay the government money -- will have a new meaning for our little family.

On April 15, little miss will be ours forever. And we will be hers.

Betcha can't wait to see photos of her in court in an adorable outfit, can you?

Me neither. :)

Quite thankful for something amazing to look forward to.

My journey to a decision to adopt from foster care

Ryan and I have recently started classes to adopt from foster care.  For me at least, this journey has been long in coming.

I never had an epiphany, or this one singular moment where I just knew this was the right decision for me and for my family.  Instead, it's been a LONG series of moments, of experiences, of stories that have edged me closer to this decision to adopt.

The first moment that opened my eyes was as an older child. I don't remember how old I was, or even the title of the book, but I remember reading a novel based on a true story of child abuse. I read how this little girl was tied up to a pole outside, kept for hours without food or drink. If she went to the bathroom on herself, she was beaten mercilessly -- but she was never taken in to use the restroom.  The story was told from her perspective -- a sad, demoralized little girl who loved her parents and could never understand why they hurt her so much.

Images from her story have stuck with me ever since.

I remember thinking, even as a child, that I wanted to adopt. I guess in my mind, it has always been a part of my "someday" plan.

Then, in May of last year, I learned about sex trafficking.  Here's how God helped open my eyes . . .

It all started with TLC (Yes, I'm talking about the TV channel!)  I was watching a show on the 2005 tsunami with my husband.  It was one of those things where you wanted to turn it off, and pretend that something this atrocious would never, ever happen.  Yet there's that part of me that just had to watch. As though I owed it to the victims to hear their stories, to validate their painful experiences.  And so I watched . . .

Their was very little dramatization -- just real-life videos and personal testimonies from victims.  One couple from Europe was vacationing in Sri Lanka for Christmas with their 5-year-old daughter.  The wave came in to their hotel room, filling it up.  The woman was holding her daughter, belly-to-belly, with the girl's arms and legs wrapped around her torso.  She held on for everything that she could. But in just one moment, her beloved daughter slipped from her arms, and vanished from the room.  Three days later, they found her body on the beach.

I sobbed as I heard her story. And as the stories progressed, I became angrier at God for allowing such suffering.  Days later, I was still not emotionally recovered from the experience.  At church, I tried to worship God, but my heart held back.  I watched a mother nearby pick up her 5-year-old, belly-to-belly, with the little girl's arms and legs wrapped around her torso. In that moment, my heart screamed to God, "Lord, why would you do this?  Why would you let thousands of children die a horrible death? Why would you rob families of their children?  These children are innocent ... why didn't you DO SOMETHING?!!!  I cannot worship a God who kills children!"

I'll never forget how calm His voice was, even in the midst of my visceral rage.  He spoke quietly, yet pointedly to my heart . . . "Thousands of children are dying every day. They are hurting. And they need someone to help them.  Do not ask my what I am doing, until YOU are doing something, too."

It was as if someone had splashed cold water on my face. (I don't even want to know what someone might have been thinking if they had been watching me during this particular service!)  I was shocked to hear His answer . . . and all I could think of next was, "WHAT?"  What is causing suffering to thousands of children?  What is killing them?  And what could I do?

Within weeks, my brother returned home from Southeast Asia.  He told me about about how houses in regular neighborhoods had little red lights on their doors.  Children would be playing outside . . . young girls ages 8-12, dressed in tee shirts and jeans. If the red light was on, that meant the child outside was for sale.  That was the first in a series of answers to "WHAT?"


I found out about sex-trafficking in the U.S. I found out that children who have already been sexually abused were at high risk for being exploited -- many of whom are from foster care.

I hosted a sex-trafficking awareness night.  But that wasn't enough. I committed a certain percentage of my Arbonne sales, but even still, that doesn't feel like enough.  I lend out the book, "Renting Lacy."  I am HOPING against HOPE to be able to speak at Arbonne's Global Training Conference to thousands of women about sex-trafficking.  I have picked up pictures of prostitutes from the Las Vegas strip, cutting out their faces only and praying over them.  Still, not enough.

Now we are starting foster care with hopes of adoption. I have no idea where this journey will lead us.  I don't know how our children's lives will be changed, and how our lives will be changed.  It isn't as if I'm on this endless search to be able to do "enough."  But when I do have the conversation face-to-face with God one day, I want to be able to say, "I did my part. I tried my best to help. I couldn't help them all.  But I helped at least one."