We loaded up the car and left Grandma's house. I was glad to have my kids back in my reign and I know Phill was too. We talked the whole way home about the long visit at Grandma's. The kids were there for six days due to my hospitalization. Our foster daughter was there also. She had a great visit as well. Grandma Mary Jo spoils the kids with lots of love and lots of trips to Wal-Mart!
We picked up our foster son who was staying with our good friends.
I was glowing with excitement for Natalie to come home to open the presents I forgot by the side of the door. When we got home I wasn't overwhelmed this time. I was excited we could all be back home under our same familiar roof. I missed my family, and I wanted to reassure everyone that I would be alright and we could go on without skipping a beat. I don't know how much my two older foster kids understood, but they were relieved I was back home and acting like myself again. I didn't want them to see the worst of me. I felt weak in front of them and I felt like I was just another adult in their life that would let them down. Now I know that I can show them that I struggled and I came out stronger for it. I didn't give up on my family when things got tough and they didn't give up on me.
I have been a foster parent for 6 years. I will probably write about my experience someday in blog or maybe a story somewhere, but I am still writing that chapter in my life. Sometimes the kids look up to you like you are flawless, perfect, and have no problems. I was glad I could show them that I was in a horrible, dark place through no fault of my own. This is so much like what these kids have been through already. Through no fault of their own, they have been abandoned, beaten, neglected, and are made to feel unlovable. Trusting someone else to take care of you becomes nearly impossible. I know my experience is like comparing apples to oranges, but I have gained so much insight on every aspect of my life.
I have become a better foster parent. I am not afraid to show my kids affection and tell them I love them, even if they try to resist. They need to know I love them. I talk openly about my struggle with postpartum depression, counseling, and medication. I am showing them that it is so important to get the help you need and medication doesn't mean you are weak.
I have been blessed by all of my amazing kids. The kids that have left my home, the kids who still call or write, and the kids in our home now. They are my heros. They have overcome so much tragedy and they are just children. The odds are stacked against them, but they continue to keep fighting. I am their biggest fan.
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