I haven’t written about this for a few reasons, but mainly because I don’t want it to be a distraction.
Foster care isn’t about our infertility. It has never been. We didn’t start fostering because we were infertile. Back then, we didn’t even know.
But in recent months, we’ve acknowledged the obvious: We aren’t having kids biologically.
It’s sad and hard.
But knowing hasn’t changed our reasons for fostering.
Quite the opposite. Infertility can make fostering much more difficult. And vice versa.
We desire to grow our family. But we desire more to love well the kids who come into our home. And so far loving them well looks like caring for them for two days or two years and then hugging them goodbye as they move onto or back to their biological family.
That’s hard. And it’s harder when we ache to have children permanently filling our home with joy and laughter and disgusting fake fart noises.
Someday a child might need us longer. We’re open to that. To guardianship or adoption. But that isn’t our goal in fostering.
Because in foster care, the hope is almost always for a child to return. Return to mom or dad, to an aunt or uncle. Return to genetic kin of some kind.
This is why many families pursue private adoption or foster-to-adopt after biological parental rights have been terminated. One day we may do the same.
But for now, fertile or infertile, one thing remains. There are 400,000 kids who need a safe, temporary place. A foster home.
And we’ve got that.
So we are grateful to be able to share the abundance we’ve been given. And to walk with these precious kids.
It’s a journey we’re building our life around.
Infertility is proving to be its own journey. One we did not choose.
Which helps us remember kids in foster care didn’t choose their journey, either.
Together, we are finding our way.