Mourning Becomes Electric

Note: the names/identities/details of the foster children, foster parents and social workers have been changed to protect their identities – except for us, of course…

Heather:  Remember this?

We look at a photo of Champion and Radelle on their first visit to Disneyland.  Nancy, holding Radelle, cozies up on one side of Winnie the Pooh, while Heather and Champion snuggle in on the other.

Nancy:  They were terrified.

And they were.  They’d never seen life-sized versions of characters before.  They’d never been to a land where everything seems perfect.  They hadn’t ever taken a boat ride through pirate-infested waters or joined in a parade or watched in awe as the sky lights up with fireworks.

Heather clicks her mouse and another photo appears.  It’s Jordan.  He’s playing in the grass.  We’d just gotten his hair cut.  He clutches a Buzz Lightyear from Nancy’s brother.

Heather:  He was happy that day.

Despite Jordan’s smiles and despite his enthusiasm, he had a kind of sadness flowing beneath the surface.  He wanted his mom.

Heather clicks to the next picture…

This is how it’s been for the past few months.  We once imagined ourselves creating an enormous family, built entirely through foster care.  But when all of our matches and both of our previous placements failed, it was hard not to feel as though our dream-family was just that – a dream.

We have to admit, we’ve relished our time and space sans children.  We’ve enjoyed the quiet.  We’ve taken advantage of the extra time to write.  And we certainly love NOT paying for a babysitter.  But we’re haunted, in a way.  The shadows of the foster care system frequently sweep over us, tugging and taunting and enveloping us in thoughts of children who are waiting.

We have moments in which it feels as though we’ll never get over the boys, particularly Champ and Rad who became such a huge part of our lives.  At the same time, we hope we never get over them because maybe – just maybe – if we carry them in our thoughts, if we continue to remember them and mourn their departure, maybe we’re somehow still a part of their lives, still a part of showing them what’s possible.

But lately, there’s been a shift.  Now that we’ve made the decision to leave our foster agency, we frequently find ourselves on Heart Gallery looking at children who are legally free – untangled from the families that put them there in the first place.

The possibility of an enormous blended family reemerges as we imagine ourselves with Anna, who’s 15, a straight A Honors student, and who aspires to a career in psychology; and Marcus, 16, an elite athlete, who craves parents to attend his football and basketball games as well as help him with college applications; and Tyrell, who’s 7, willing to go anywhere in the country for a permanent home.  He’s the only one of six siblings not yet adopted.

There are 17 year olds out there who still hold out hope for adoption so that they can spend the rest of their lives as a part of a larger family.  They want somewhere to go at Christmas.  They want someone who will make a fuss for their birthdays.  That could be us!  That could very well be us!

Last week we called LA County Child Services.  We explained our situation, and they invited us to a foster/adopt orientation where we will learn what steps we need to take to get licensed without an agency.

And just like that, our time of mourning transforms into a plan.  Step 1:  Get certified!