The Emotional Roller Coaster of The Foster Parent Process

I am writing to you from my corner chair, enjoying my sunny view of downtown Fort Worth. I am sipping a cup freshly poured from my french press and soaking up the fondness that are my slow mornings I have come to cherish. 

Lately in my slow morning routine, I have begun wondering, or maybe dreaming about what it will be like when this time is spent changing diapers, or chasing around a toddler, or taking my spot in the school dropoff line.

I have already started loving the little humans that will live here temporarily. I wonder what their names will be, what their little faces will look like, and what it will be like learning how they need to be loved, what they need to feel safe. I am already grieving for them and what they are experiencing, likely right now as I am writing this. My heart feels open and soft, a million times bigger than it should be. It feels kind of natural, almost like this is just another extension of how I value showing up in this world. 

On the other hand, I look around my life and see everything I have ever wanted, finally free after what feels like a lifetime of fighting for it, and I can’t help but wonder…am I crazy for doing this?

I am writing this after a week of feeling better, grounded, and supported. But I was so shocked a few short weeks ago at how the emotional rollercoaster already started. I was not expecting how much grief would be triggered throughout the training process, or how hard the realization would hit me that quite everyone in my life would be affected by this. 

2-3 weeks ago I was absolutely wrecked with guilt, disappointment, and grief. It was hitting me from so many different angles, I felt like I just couldn’t stop crying.

I was hit with guilt that I was signing up everyone around me to do something hard, just because I was. It occurred to me for the first time how much my capacity would change, and how having a traumatized kid living with me might change my relationships with people. It started triggering my abandonment issues, and I started to wonder if I was going to find myself alone in the middle of this. 

I felt disappointed at how disconnected I felt from a lot of the people around me, and even though I knew it wasn’t rational, I started fearing that I had wasted so much of my life investing in people who weren't going to invest back into me.

I felt grief for a lot of reasons. For the past versions of my life that I had to walk away from, for the people who aren’t a part of my life anymore, for what it cost me to be happy and healthy. For the shock I still feel when I remember certain things I’ve been through or have been done to me. For having to write down the classifications and dates of every time I’ve experienced abuse, like it was some casual written math problem, as homework. For the things I can’t unsee, and the weight of other people’s secrets that I keep, and for all the times I’ve been a safe place for the people who were not safe places for me. And for being the kind of person who will never stop opening her heart up to people no matter what it costs, but understanding exactly what it costs, all too well. 

I cried early morning-before work over tea with a friend, I cried through my phone screen to many safe faces. I cried on a walk by the river with a neighbor, I cried when 4 of my family members attended a horrible 2 hour respite care training on zoom to support me. And in a living room, after the kids fought all night over who would sit in my lap and we put them to bed, I cried with the grief literally shaking out of me just because my friends took the time to ask me the hard questions. I feel like I cried all over Fort Worth those two weeks, my tears watering the safe spaces for my future placements to grow with me.

And in my most triggered state, one of the many sweet messages I received really stuck with me: “You’re dredging up a lot of emotions going through this process, and in a way every emotionally intelligent parent does and has lots to come to terms with when having kids. So these are all good things and signs of growth! 

So, what helped start to ground me was realizing that I could be doing probably anything major in life right now (getting married, having a bio kid, moving away, etc) and probably be experiencing a variety of these same emotions. And the point of healing isn’t to be unaffected or invincible, but to be able to self-regulate, feel without judgment, and move through it. And so, I did. (And hey, would it really be me if there wasn’t at least one menty b involved??)

Thank you to every single person who supported me emotionally through those couple of weeks, and to my family for sacrificing your time and resources to support me through this journey. It means more to me than I can say, and I pretty much cry about it once a day. (lol)

Anyway, even through all of that !! I finished all of my agency training except “Training 3” that I will have to make up the next time it comes around in October. My CPR training is scheduled for the 20th (Which my younger brother and big sister will be joining me at, which also makes me want to cry !! You can see the trend that pretty much everything in this whole process makes me want to cry lol) I’ve turned in about 95% of my paperwork and homework, and I’ve completed 7/9 of my online training courses. I will be getting my TB test this week, and after that I will get to schedule my Health and Fire Safety Home Study. To stay on track, I am hoping to complete all of this by the end of this month. (It's getting real!)

After that, the biggest next step is my official Home Study which can take 2-4 hours. This is where they will inspect the home but also interview me. To stay on schedule to be officially licensed by the end of November with consideration of all my fall travel, I will need to complete this by the first or second week in October. 

So far my agency and my respite support are all on track to meet this licensing timeline goal and I am feeling really excited and grateful. And often scared too, but as my friend Katherine always says, “Do it afraid” so I tell myself that often these days. 

Thank you to the bottom of my heart for following along this crazy journey I put my own self on. You can always hit reply with any questions you have! 

As Noah Kahan says, “You’ve got all my love”

Faith 

Want to support me on my foster care journey? Here are some ways you can get involved. Also, feel free to subscribe to my newsletter for consistent updates regarding my foster care journey.

Many people have asked me how they can support me without going through the respite/babysitting process, here are my biggest needs:

• Day of Shoppers: I need a team of day of shoppers who will be able to go to the store and shop for essential needs. Most of the time placements come with very little notice, and the last thing you want to do is take them to the grocery store the day they arrive. I’ll need people who can go get essentials for me to get through the first 1-3 days, depending on the type of placement. (I.E. A 4 year old boy might need clothes, snacks, toys, overnight pull ups, or an infant girl might need diapers, wipes, clothes, etc.) It was suggested to have several of these because not everyone will be available every time, and it also shares the load when there are several people.

• Sign up to be notified for mealtrains. During the first few days the amount of appointments we have to get the placements within the first 72 hours can be overwhelming, so not having to worry about cooking is apparently a huge help! You can do this through filling out my connect form or contacting me directly.

Thank you!

Deeper Well.

“You can’t just sit there and put everyone’s lives ahead of yours and think that counts as love.”

This is a quote from one of my favorite books from highschool, The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Funny enough, I went on for years doing just as the quote says not to. 

When I was 18 years old, two months shy of graduating High School, my dad had a massive stroke. He didn’t die, but the version of him I knew did die that day. My mother’s priorities shifted to keeping him alive, and life as we all knew it, at least that version of life, died that day too. 

There is no one to blame and it's nobody’s fault, but this started in me a trauma response in my brain from abandonment. Over the years, the abandonment wound grew with more experiences and new faces, until eventually a flip switched in me. 

I learned how to be the hyper-independent in codependent relationships, putting me in the position to make myself feel “irreplaceable” to the people around me. Earning their love with every need I could meet, not even needing to be asked. I just knew. I knew exactly what each person in my life needed, and I knew how to meet it. And to be honest, it worked. And to be honest, I was great at it. 

And while we are being honest, there are many people who are mourning that unhealthy version of me now. The version of me who met all their needs and never asked for anything in return. She settled for crumbs, and treated those crumbs like a feast. She was praised for how well she inserted herself, never needing much in return, and how very useful she was. 

It was until one day, I woke up in more codependent relationships than I could possibly keep up with, recognizing a pattern, and wondering how I ended up there? I had collected so many people that needed me, that felt entitled to me, I felt chronically suffocated and emotionally distraught. I was in so many relationships that I had identified as unhealthy, was absolutely gutted by how I was being treated in them, but was also terrified to move.

I had to take a look in the mirror and take responsibility for what my part in it was, and then I remembered…“You can’t just sit there and put everyone’s lives ahead of yours and think that counts as love.”

The scariest thing I ever did was step out of that pattern. I looked so many people in the eye and said “I can’t be this version of myself anymore, it's killing me. Will you still love me even if I let go of the version of myself that has been trying to earn your love?”

I had to apologize to my codependent partners, I had subconsciously been manipulating them not to abandon me. Not giving them the option to stay or go, not even giving them the option to love me for the right reasons. I remember telling someone specifically that I had to start showing up in the world authentically, and letting each person choose for themselves if they wanted to love me or not. 

It seems so simple, but when you have an abandonment wound, it is the most vulnerable thing. 

I think anytime you shift from a state of unhealthy to healthy, it is vulnerable.

For me, this was another way of life, no matter how unhealthy it might have been, my perceived safety was dead again. 

Today, talking with a friend, I had this analogy pop into my head. It was really more of an image, it was me or it was you, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, only it was like this one scene was a picture of all of life. And every person who “left” was like a physical weight unlocking, falling off, so that we could evolve just a little bit higher, take up a little more space. It was a picture of painful relief, grief and gratefulness all at once. 

Though in my core, I feel like exactly the same person, the last two years in many ways I have transformed into somebody totally new. Somehow coming home to myself and evolving beyond all of me at the same time. 

A huge part of that has been allowing all the relationships in my life their own autonomy, not just in reality but also in my own cognitive perception, every single person has the freedom and right to leave my life at any time. Why they choose to leave may or may not have anything to do with me, but it's not my job to try to understand it if they don’t have the care to explain it to me before they go. And whether a person chooses to stay or go, does not alter how I choose to show up in the world.

I no longer look at my relationships as something I have to keep at all costs. In fact, I have seen how much better life is when you are not in relationship with people who you have to convince you are worth loving. Learning to let people go has been one of the most peaceful, satisfying lessons. The waves of sweet relief and deep grief have become a healthy flow in my life.

On the flipside, I do believe it is a privilege to be a part of my life, to have access to me, and to be loved by me. I hold myself to a very high standard in how I treat all humans in the world, but especially the people closest to me. Through healing my abandonment wound, I have gained the self respect to hold the people in my life to some of those same standards. I have taken the time to define my non-negotiables when it comes to my relationships, and how to let others decide for themselves if they want to meet them or not. (Though I have to be honest, I’ve never had to even ask those closest to me…the ones who show me true love every day. The ones who have redefined what love even means.) And through this self respect, I am no longer afraid to hold people accountable to how they treat me, and if need be, walk away. 

I am responsible for my own life, and only mine, and it's my job only to make decisions for my life, and that's true for everyone else too about their own life. 

I have taken the time over the years to learn how to receive love and how to give it, in pure and healthy ways. I have taken the time to forgive, honor, and cherish the version of myself that kept herself safe, even in ways that weren’t healthy and caused me pain. I’ve taken the time to practice empathy to the ones that loved an unhealthy version of me so deeply, who aren’t able to see the healthy version of me as good…how it must have felt like betrayal when I was no longer willing to give them the version of me that felt like a home to them. I feel so deeply for them what they lost in my own growth and healing, and also what they lost when they couldn’t figure out how to love this version of me too. 

But there is nothing and no one in the world I could trade this version of me for. The one who gets to be fully free, so sure of the people around me, who I get to love freely because I’m no longer subconsciously convincing them to keep me. Life is so beautiful, peaceful, full, and I made friends with my grief, always giving it a place to rest when it passes through, because I know its a part of rising, evolving, and growing.

So remember, “You can’t just sit there and put everyone’s lives ahead of yours and think that counts as love.” You have to actively participate in this life, learning how to both give and receive love from people, in all our messy ways. And the painful truth is that outgrowing some people along the way is a part of living, an unfortunate necessary part if you choose to grow. It comes with grief, but it also expands your capacity for love as you transform into more of who you were created to be.

In the words of Kacey Musgraves, “I’ve found a deeper well.” And I can say, there is so much life waiting for you.