Bridge Building

Sometimes things get crazy, things get unbelievable, and you think to yourself this life cannot possibly belong to me. This week was one of those weeks. Our little family was rocked to the core. Fear crept into my heart as I watched the pain my child was in. While I am still not going to share exactly what happened due to privacy, I can tell you it was utterly horrifying. 

This whole week has crawled. I have had conversations with case workers and other people involved in the case that I never imagined having. I have connected with new people and I have felt the Lord moving in ways I never expected. There have been sleepless nights, tears, countless phone calls, and disbelief, yet there has been peace. 

I cannot tell you why bad things or hard things happen, but I can tell you Jesus finds you in them. He has a funny way of doing it too. Never in a thousand years would I have imagined my Thursday night would be spent in a McDonalds with my husband, my son, and my son’s mother due to the situation we were in. Never would I have imagined that we would sit and talk like old friends who had always known each other. NEVER would I have expected for my son to call us both "mommy," and for neither of us to correct him. 

This is my reality, I am a mother. I have 2 children. We are a family who goes to school everyday and does homework. We go to church together on Sundays. We have dinner together, go to movies together, tickle each other while we giggle in the floor. We hold hands, play games, go on walks outside, and have deep conversations. But, my 2 children do not belong to me. My babies that I love, protect, nurture, hold, kiss, hug, and play with….are not mine. They have lived in my home, shared my life, and stolen my heart over the past 9 months, but they ultimately belong to another woman. They are her children. This has been something I have struggled with for many months. 

Tonight though, I understood. Tonight I accepted that my children will always be mine, but they will also always be hers. If and when they transition home, she will have the privilege to hold them and kiss their little cheeks every night. She will tuck them into bed and do homework with them. She will giggle with them and tickle them, and she will be the one they call for in the middle of the night when their dreams are scary. But, just because we don’t share a name or a home doesn’t mean that they will not always be my kids. 

These kids taught me how to love in a way that I never have before. They gave me a chance to be a mom, to fight for them, and to watch them grow. They taught me so much about myself and my husband. There will never be a day in my life when I do not think about them, pray for them, and love them. 

Tonight, for the first time I sat with my childrens' mother, and we built a bridge. We became friends. I accepted that we will forever be bonded because we love the same children, and we will always fight for them. But now, we will fight together. We will be on the same team, we can be united. 

I want so much for my children to go home to their mother. Though it will rip our hearts into a million tiny pieces that we will fit back together over time, I have accepted that she is what is best for them. I have accepted that even if they are no longer in my home, I will always be their mom, even if it has the word "foster" in front of it. I have hope that my children’s mother will stay in contact and that we will all in some way stay a family. They may not call me mommy anymore, but that is okay, because they have a mommy, but they also have a foster mommy who loves them and a child can never have too many mommies and daddies who love them.