I know I don’t post often, but I wanted to update our followers and friends. Something I need to work on is how terribly private I am about our journey. I am finally starting to believe our story can also help others if we are brave enough to say it aloud.
We started the journey to foster and hopefully adopt in July 2017. We have been planning it for years, but that’s finally when we went public.
I had no idea it would be almost two years later until we received our first foster child.
We quickly got through classes, but our home didn’t pass fire inspection, and we had to do major home renovation to bring our rental up to code. But alas, it was finally complete in May of 2018- and our lovely egress windows make our home so much lighter, fresher and brighter!
I wept as I carefully continued to set up the nursery and waited. And waited. And WAITED. I re-did the nursery. And waited. I ripped the entire yellow blanket out, and re-crocheted the entire thing. Still no child. I cried out to God, “don’t you see me? Have you totally forgotten me?”
Finally, in late November 2018, we met our little man, and immediately fell in love!
We began the transition to bring him home slowly, as to not traumatize him at 4 months old.
It was HARD. Caseworkers, workers, fosters, and all lined up to sign paperwork and he was suddenly in our care. But it was hard. He started to regress in sleep and show signs of trauma as all his surroundings began to firmly show he was now here, not there -any more. It was hard to see him flounder under the weight of the changes and felt helpless to ease his emotional pain.
Babies just can’t talk it out. I didn’t anticipate that.
But we pressed on and continued to love him, and hold him close. He is now attached, smiley, happy, and SMART!
Over the past three months of mothering and fathering him, we’ve watched him roll over, sleep through the night, smile, laugh & cry (a LOT), giggle, eat solid foods, GROW into 9-12 month clothing, chatter, chew on teething toys, and even start to sit up halfway and try to crawl.
His toothless grin is forever imprinted on my heart and I’m forever changed.
When he reaches his tiny arms out and holds my face with his hands his eyes say, I’m home. I’m safe. Jesus is softly whispering in my ear, “Brittany. this is how I see YOU. You are safe. You are home with me.”
The wait has become a painful part of my past. But it haunts me every day, even though I hold him now in my arms. I continue to work through the emotions and roots of bitterness that had cropped up while I waited.
But guys, JESUS IS SO REAL TO ME in it ALL. He is there. Was, is, and continues to work on me in that place.
I let out a lot of my tears in some drawings and a poem of his journey to our home about the wait. I plan to make it into a keepsake book for him. I still cry when I read it aloud, but I think that emotion is carved into my heart as a mother’s pains in waiting for her child to grow in her womb. I needed those almost-2-years to grow him in my heart.