Me and my husband embarked on the foster care journey to start a family, navigating the emotional and bureaucratic challenges of training, home visits, and COVID delays. After months of preparation, including painting nurseries and assembling furniture, I was unexpectedly asked to take in three children at once an overwhelming but life-changing opportunity to give them a safe home.
When we got the call, I wanted to say ‘yes’ right away, because we had been waiting for about four months at the time, and if our social worker had said they had a group of wild hogs who needed a good home, I would probably have said yes to that, too. Craig and I were very ready, more than ready, in our heads, at least.
I asked our social worker how much time I could have to respond, and she was gracious, but told me they’d like to have an answer as soon as possible. I called Craig right away and we talked over what I knew about the kids. We got the wrong information at first, that it was two boys and a girl, and that the little girl was an infant (S was almost two when we got her).
We were updated a few times that morning with their correct ages and why and how they were removed from their home. It was a literal game of telephone, with our social worker talking to another middleman at the foster centre where the kids were being held. We were concerned about possible drug exposure, we were concerned they were all so young, and we still wanted a baby who we could raise from the very beginning, and now we would be a full house and unable to care for a newborn if one would become available.
I remember us both asking each other if we really were going to do this. I think we were just testing each other, seeing if there was any wavering. He kept asking, ‘Are you sure?’ And without answering, I asked back with more intensity, ‘Are you sure?’ After a few volleys, we told each other these kids don’t have anyone else, and this kind of opportunity may not come around again.
We were excited, this was what we wanted, and we were just so happy we ‘got the call.’ I think we were both on the same page from the beginning, that we had blinders on, but we saw the finish line, and so the rest of the call consisted of, ‘We’re doing this, so what do we need?’
I looked around our house. We didn’t have any clothes, we didn’t buy any diapers, we didn’t have toys, or kid-friendly foods, or Sippy cups, pacifiers, Wet Wipes, you name it! We needed A LOT. Even after setting up the bedrooms, we spent over $1,000 at Target on the first day. We got the rooms ready, but it was impossible to buy the day-to-day things, since we had no idea what the genders or ages of the kids we were getting. I ran to the store for the basics: car seats, stroller, diapers, and so forth.
The first day we got the three kids under six was absolute chaos no shoes, no extra clothes, three dogs, and a tornado of energy everywhere. The first month, it was just me and them all day taxing, exhausting, and overwhelming. But over time, watching them grow, learn, and open their hearts has been incredibly fulfilling. Loving them came naturally, even amid the challenges and trauma they carry.
They’ve broken lamps, picture frames, and fallen down the stairs a dozen times. L has gotten bitten by a dog, stung by a bee, and some light roughhousing with her brother left her with a small chunk of her big toe cut off. (It grew back, it’s fine.) I think we got lucky, we’re almost eight months into our foster parenthood and things could have been a lot worse, or so we’re told.
The kids are relatively well-adjusted, intelligent, and happy kids. Their parents are working hard to reunite with them, and we support them in doing so.
You’ve poured love, care, and normalcy into these kids’ lives, even knowing they might not stay forever. From beach trips to Christmas mornings, every small moment matters. Your presence gives them stability, joy, and memories they’ll carry with them, no matter what the future holds.
