Entering into foster parenthood

I received the call at work. I had imagined getting this call and spent a lot of time wondering when it would come. There had been several false alarms over the past couple of weeks. I would see a voice mail hours after it came through. By the time I called back it was too late. I learned to carry my phone around with me. One day I was heading into a library instruction class when I saw the call come through. I hurriedly called back at the break. Our social worker explained that there was a little baby.

A year ago my husband and I sat in our little downstairs bar sharing our day with one another. On this day, we talked about parenthood, starting with the kiddos and then moving on to parenting in general. Becoming a family with Mike and his kiddos had been an exciting and very fulfilling experience. It was also overwhelming but I imagine parenting is overwhelming for everyone at some point. The only issue was that I felt I had another parental role that was still unfulfilled. I didn't know what that might look like but it was never far from my mind. As we sat there, one of us brought up this article we'd seen in the paper about foster parenting. We were both surprised at the sheer number of local kids that needed care. My husband said, "Why don't we foster?" He took the words right out of my mouth.

The foster parenting classes were a lesson in stamina. As we watched sad videos and listened to strict foster parenting policies week after week, I wasn't surprised to see people dropping out. I had expressed my reservations more than once after we'd gone home at night. I had to process what we were learning and then agree with myself to go back again. The class started with twelve and finished with seven. There were heartwarming stories too. It was gratifying to hear stories of successful foster parenting. It was exactly what you'd expect though. Or what I expected. A whole other world.

They were on our porch when I arrived home. The social worker picked up a car seat with a tiny sleeping baby in a little hooded sweatshirt. The social worker talked about the case and answered all of my questions. And then she left. It was just me and this baby. Ten pounds of dozing cuteness. This was my foray into foster parenting.