foster coaster

You read this so I’m taking you on this ride with me.  Today a phone call, not as positive as the one two weeks ago where there was light at the end of the tunnel, a promise that little sister was coming.  Today, the phone call was backtracking, not indicating a different outcome but indicating a lot more willingness to give the birth family a lot more chances.

I am telling myself nothing has changed.  But it has.  I won’t be nesting anymore because I can’t.  The yo-yo string of anticipation I’ve been clinging to since March when she was born is taut but hanging down.  Tomorrow, I might be up again.  But today there is a dip in the foster coaster.

I don’t love being yanked around but I think … I think it makes me a better mom for kids who get yanked around.  I have thought about this a lot.  I think the heightened adrenaline of not knowing what comes with foster care mirrors the heightened adrenaline children feel from the trauma they experience both at home and the trauma of removal when they come into foster care.

So, it stinks but it refines me.  It is not undone.  One day, some days from now, there will be a little girl in a crib across the hall, needing me.  Until then, I will keep needing and wanting her.  I will love her from here, quietly and taut-ly.  I will wait impatiently because it’s the only kind of waiting I do.

One day, I will get to step off this ride and I will do so grinning and shaking, with wind-blown hair, a little harried but exhilarated. Come with me?  Laurieann Thorpe


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