Emmanuel--God With Us

Warning: grab some tissues and come back. This post is a tough one to write and might be tough to read.

A year ago I was asked to do one of the most difficult things I've had to do in my entire life.

Wait, I should probably back up a bit.

In the spring of last year we attended foster parent training. Several times before we got our license we were called about different children who needed a home and us possibly providing a home for them. None of those worked out. Finally, we were licensed. Then the phone calls really started!

Will you take a child X months/years old with X diagnosis?
Yes!
Ok, I'll let you know.

5 minutes later.
*ring* I'm sorry, that child was placed elsewhere.

A few days pass.
*ring* Will you take a child X years old? Exposed to X?
Yes!
Ok. Talk to you later.

10 minutes pass.
Sorry that child was taken.

A few days later:
Will you take a child X days old?
Yes!
Ok. You know the drill.

We never got a follow up call. I waited for 2 hours, then started calling my support network. "They haven't called to say the baby was taken. I think we might be getting this one!" I sent Jay a text teasing him that we would get a placement on the one day of the month he was out of town for training.

Three hours and a few minutes after the first call, I had a tiny baby boy in my arms. I quickly handed him over to my support friend K, and started signing my life away. I promise: selling a house requires less paperwork! I signed form after form after form, all in triplicate. One set for me; one for our agency; one for CPS. Then, there were the separate forms for our agency and CPS didn't need a copy of those, so they were only in doubles. Then the detailed account of what the child brought with him to the foster home. An hour after CPS showed up on my step with the baby, they all left; I was a mom for the first time. What a heady experience.

That first night I remember calling my mom and asking why the baby might be crying. We had all those follow up appointments that a mom with a newborn has. People everywhere had lots of questions and I had no answers.

We were told that this baby had older siblings in care (meaning in a different foster home) and that the other FPs were deciding if they could handle an additional child. We were warned that we might not get to keep him long. We were ok with that. God asked us to give this child a home and we were willing to do that for however long he needed one.

A week turned into two. Then three. Then a month. Then two. The other FPs didn't want feel they could care for the new baby because of the other children in their home. We started settling in for the long haul.

The phone rings. It's our caseworker with CPS. It's her usual weekly call, so I'm not concerned. Then she tosses out, "Oh and you knew that a kinship placement has come forward? We think the baby might move there."

I could have collapsed. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The world was still spinning. I would be ok. For the next few weeks, I bawled as I fed that baby. I would sing his favorite songs sweetly and whisper in a tear-choked voice, "Don't forget us. Don't forget we will always love you."

I knew his leaving was a possibility. We had signed on with an agency that fully supports reunification (re-uniting with BPs) above everything else. If reunification isn't possible, then we support a Kinship Placement. Last, and only as a final result, do we adopt as FPs.

But it hurt! This was *my* baby. I had been through so much with him!

I breathed deeply. I gave him back to God. I trusted.

Then the day came. We were afforded the rare opportunity to actually drive the baby to his new home. I sat on the Kinship Parent's couch, fed him a bottle, sang one last lullaby, rocked him to sleep, got in the car, and drove away.  My heart broke into a million pieces. I walked around our house and it felt empty. I put away all the baby gear except his bed. Then, I took a nap.

The next couple of days were a blur. I remember asking God to help me; to hold me up. I asked God for people like Moses had who would hold up my arms because I didn't have the strength. Instead, God whispered sweetly to my soul. He soothed my pain, washed away my questions.

He did the impossible: He prepared my heart for a new child. Not 48 hours after I gave up "my" baby,  I was excited about the possibility of what our new foster child would be like. Would we get a little girl this time? What race would the child be? How old? What color hair? What quirks?

Sunday morning I ran to my friend K and said, "Is it weird that I'm so excited about what child God will let us love next?" She said with teary eyes, " I was walking through the baby section yesterday and seeing all those cute toys and thought that Sunni needs a little girl about 18 months old because these toys are so cute!"

I would love to end the story there (as this post is already long), but I can't.

Jay and I had decided that we needed a 2 week break to reconnect as a couple and to really love on Creative Monkey. Jay also had business that took us to a tourist town in our state. We used that time to relax. While we were on our mini-working vacation we got a call from our CPS worker about a child that needed a home. We couldn't take that child because we were out of town and the child needed something that night.

I have never been more glad that I couldn't take a child than I was when the phone rang about a week later. (Notice how much the phone ringing changes my life? Please don't be upset if I say "I have to take this call." It really might be a life-changing call!) It was the baby's "Kinship Mom". She was having difficulty with a few things. I talked with her for several hours that day. Then, I called our agency and got some advice. The result of that call was that we got to babysit the baby and his big sister for the weekend to give the Kinship Placement a break.

Four days later, Silly Monkey and his big sister Tutu Monkey were back in our home...for good. We legally became their foster parents 21 days after I gave "my baby" up.

God's plan is bigger than our own. I truly learned about the sovereignty of God that month. If you walk away saying "that's a sweet story", you miss the bigger picture. God used that pain to bring about something so beautiful I can't even describe it. He taught me, a Bible College graduate, what it TRULY means to "trust in the Lord with all your heart and don't trust your own understanding." (Proverbs 3:5, paraphrased) God is absolutely in control. He will sustain you! That is why one of His many names is

Emmanuel, meaning God with us!