Fostering Love
Fostering is an exercise in love. A giving and receiving of that love and it is a risk. A risk of broken hearts as you lay yourself bare to love and care. To open your home, your family, your heart.
Fostering after infertility, well…
We had such hope, such joy and such sorrow.
Isaac; Biblical meaning Laughter – The promised child of Abraham and Sarah in the bible. See Genesis Chapter 15
I Thought He Was My Isaac…
I hover breathless over the new life that lay sleeping in his bed. The sterile smell of the hospital assaults my nose. But my breath has hitched at the tiny fingers curled around my index finger. This is finally it. Right? This is my Isaac, my laughter.
Eleven babies – gone to heaven where my womb betrayed them and took their lives away from them too soon. Eleven children that never had a chance to laugh and pray. To receive a hug and kiss from their parents and play their siblings. All of the prayers over us, all of the tears shed. The word that a baby would come.
The words that the Lord was in this.
This is for you.
God told me that I was supposed to tell you to follow this path.
This is His plan…
I did, here I am, here we are – Isaac.
It was almost too good to be true- the first red flag that it seems I have ignored.
But sweet baby Isaac, he loves me and his face lights up when he sees me.
The days and nights melt into one another.
He sleeps through the night and is seemingly perfect.
But it was not meant to be.
The laughter fades…
We pack up his things in boxes and we make lots of bottles for the diaper bag. His favorite blanket wraps and his little stuffed animal. All of those tiny shoes and an envelope with photos of all of his firsts.
The room once again sits empty.
Now we struggle with the silence
We struggle with the why.
Struggle with the pain, an empty cradle stands alone in a room untouched- as if a snapshot has been taken, unmarred by time. A monument to what was; what could have been…
I walk in the kitchen and there is a note taped to the refrigerator door from my daughter. Through all of the pain she still trusts and believes.
I will still love you Lord… a plea through tears, a silent plea, and a broken heart.
I trust you…
When the water rises and the flames burn high. You are on the throne.
A silent night and whispered prayer “keep him safe- draw his heart to you” as I kneel beside his empty crib and tears stream down my cheeks.
Pain wells up almost tangible- touchable.
My eyes play tricks on me and I see a downy-covered head- tiny fingers. I suck in a breath – and illusions fade as if a spell was broken.
I trust you. Half spoken to Him half reminding myself.
Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; Proverbs 3:5
I trust you…
