We are on the cusp of opening our home to foster babies…again…or not. And so, the pros/cons game has begun. Actually, just the cons game. It goes something like this. Reasons to NOT foster:
- Age. I am 44. Phil is 56. We have a three-year-old and a one-year-old. Need I say more? Need I explain how tired we are? Need I explain that when Denver is 20, Phil will be on the edge of 80? Need I explain that there is a very real risk that one of us might not get to complete the raising of our kiddos before being called home? Nope?
- Comfort. Ah, comfort. We are a happy family of four. We completed our adoption of Denver in February, and we are basking in the beauty of our sweet family. There are no more social workers coming over…no more visitations to plan…no more worries of impending heart-break. Ahhhh. We likey.
- Anxiety. One of the two adults in this household struggles with anxiety, and occasionally has a meltdown that sounds something like this. “Phil, please do not leave me alone today. I cannot do this. I cannot be left alone with these girls. Please stay home. Please. I can’t, can’t can’t,” as fear grips my heart. Not sure what I’m so afraid of! I’ve had a pretty good success rate of not ruining the girls so far. I guess that’s the thing with anxiety. No rationale. Just crazy fear. (Bastard leaves me every time…something about believing in me…blah, blah, blah.)
- Our girls. What if we get a crack baby? What if we get a sick baby? What if we get a baby that absolutely destroys our lives? The lives of our girls? What if the addition of another child, even a healthy, happy child, leaves one or both of our girls wanting…in attention…affection…security? Really, need I continue?
Yep, I think that about covers it…give or take.
The pros? Oh! The pros. My soul sings at the prospect of sharing our family…of sharing our joy…of embracing the unknown as a family…with great hope and faith…of hurting together…of crying together…of living…together. I cannot think of a better, more glorious way to spend my days. Truly, the cons fall like a house of cards before the beauty of fostering.
Bring on the babies. (In a month…or four.)