In our twenty-seven hours of pre-foster care training, no one ever mentioned how I would feel once I was caring for someone else's babies.
Never once did someone say, "Some people feel this way...." or "Others feel like this."
No. Not even a mention of how it might change me or how emotional it might be.
I wasn't naive enough to think it would be a walk in the park, but I was certain that I would fall in love with any child that was brought into my home. I knew I would. There was no doubt about it.
But I haven't.
I don't love them like I thought I would. Don't take this the wrong way. I love them. It would be nearly impossible to not love a child put into your care. I love them. It's just that I don't love them.
I don't miss them when they're gone. I don't want to snuggle them on the couch. I often have a hard time going to pick them up from daycare. Once they get home, everything just gets harder. I honestly don't like the weekends because I know that all four kids will be home all day long. It's hard to do anything because they're all so little and there are four of them!
I look forward to the moments after I pick Luke and Addy up from school when it's just the three of us. Life is just easier that way.
But before I know it, the babies have to be picked up, and the frenzy and chaos of the evening begins. We really do have our evening schedule down now. It's just so much work.
You know how sometimes it gets hard to take care of your own kids? Imagine what it feels like when it gets hard taking care of someone else's.
I don't know why I'm telling you this. Maybe I just need it all out. I want to out on paper so I can see it. Why didn't anyone tell me I would feel like this? Maybe it's just me. Maybe no one else does feel like this. Maybe all the other foster parents out there (the good ones at least) are head over heels crazy about their foster kids.
I really don't know. It's like I try to love them more, and I can't. Maybe it's my own fault. Maybe I'm personally holding myself back from them, but I really don't think that's it. At this point, everything would be easier if I were crazy about them. It would be easier if I loved them more.
I have to constantly remind myself that this entire experience and this entire process is not about me. I'm constantly worried about how I feel, but it shouldn't be about me. And it's not. It's about doing something for someone else and doing it selflessly. I pull myself and my feelings and emotions into it all too often.
What if we could just help someone? What if I could get over myself long enough to actually do some good? That should be the goal.
This is not about me. It's not about the way I feel. It's about the two babies that we have and the momma and daddy they are going to go back to one day.
I've got to stop looking inward and start looking out. There is more than just me in all of this. There is also them. And they are what really matters.
.....day 231 of a year of writing....