Lately our new home feels extra big.
And a bit empty. Many of the things we had out when we first moved have been put away in the closet or basement. This blog post has taken me a long time to write. I have changed and erased and started over many times. A few weeks ago, our sweet little peanut, our first foster placement, left our home to go live with kinship. It feels like someone is missing and has been weird to go back to being a family of 4.
From moving, to traveling, to Kayden’s first birthday, to starting co-op and kindergarten, there has not been a lot of downtime to process so the emotions hit me in waves; when we hear little peanut’s favorite song, when a sock or bib pops up in the laundry, when I’m lying in bed at night and have time to think. But the ache is constantly there in the background. To us, little peanut was one of the family and now there is a hole in our lives. I feel like a piece of me is missing and my heart is broken. Yet we also knew that there was a good chance from the beginning that little peanut could be leaving.
You may be wondering, ‘Well why are you heartbroken then? Isn’t this what you signed up for?’
Yes, but the reality is that to really love a little one the way that they need to be loved, you have to be all in. You can’t hold back with the thought that they might leave, because they need you to love them as your own child while they are with you. These kids need to be able to form healthy attachments, they need someone who they can count on, who will fight for them and love them without reservation.
Our little peanut was only with us for a few months, but we were peanut’s first home, straight from the hospital. We soothed the tears, had sleepless nights, got spit up all over, witnessed the first smile and laugh. We stood in the gap; we got attached, and now our hearts ache. I can only imagine what families feel like when they have a little one living with them for years.
It’s a calling that isn’t always easy.
There has also been so much going on in the last month from national and local tragedies, to personal losses among friends. And this is different than those types of loss; we haven’t lost a friend or family member to cancer, we haven’t miscarried. Our sweet Peanut is still alive and thriving. We probably have had the best possible first placement experience; we feel really good about this placement. Peanut is being well loved, cared for, and advocated for. Not only have we been able to stay in touch and receive pictures, but this past weekend we were able to babysit little peanut.
What a gift to be able to continue loving on peanut and supporting the family in this way. Right now, it feels like transitioning from immediate family to Aunt and Uncle. And I am so thankful for that; but not having little peanut with us constantly is still a huge change. For Phil, who processes a little differently, he’s mentioned a few times that he just feels sad, but isn’t sure why. But to see him sing to, feed, and get huge smiles from little peanut this weekend, I know exactly why.
For our kiddos, I knew the loss may impact them, but wasn’t sure exactly what it would look like. Kayden honestly didn’t seem to notice little peanut leaving, but when peanut is here he wants to give hugs and lay on peanut (not aggressively, but still haha) and they interact together and laugh. Isabel is my mini-me when it comes to our personalities. She has big emotions and wears her heart on her sleeve. It’s been challenging to lose her baby sibling and nighttime has often been tough. It’s called for extra snuggles and extra grace.
But I’ve allowed her to see my tears too and I’ve told her that it’s okay to be sad.
I reminder that we can be sad and happy at the same time. Sad that little peanut has left, but happy that peanut is with loving family AND still a part of our lives. We’ve talked about how when she thinks of peanut and feels sad, she can pray to God that little peanut would be safe and healthy and know Him. And we’ve talked about how God understands our sadness and he feels it.
At this point we plan to open our home again at some point, but we are taking some time to process and work through the grief, to get settled in our home, and find a rhythm with homeschooling. We hold it with open hands continuing to pray that God will lead us in our role in fostering. It’s an open discussion we’ve had with Isa and right now she says she wants to foster again, and we will continue to involve our children in that process. I know that, while it has its pain, fostering can be an experience that really helps children to grow up knowing how to love and serve others in a very tangible way. But we also know there may be a point where we need to step back and change our role in foster care if it is what is best for our family.
So right now, I sit in the middle; in the joy and in the sadness. In the transition from 5 back to 4. I sit with open hands knowing that in the near future we could have our lives turned upside down again. Or our role could look different. I sit in the presence of the Lord knowing that he knows both our joy and our sadness and that wherever this journey make take us, he is there.
He has called us, and he will bring healing and continue to equip us to love those he brings into our home.
I enjoyed reading your post. Sadness and joy come in our life. It is hard to comprehend, God is in the midst of it all. You are walking this through with your children, they see you and Phil as examples. Dealing with “STORMS” in the right way, through the power of Prayer.