We’ve been open for a long-term foster care placement since this spring. During the summer, it was dead silent, but over the past six we’ve been called quite a few times. We keep getting our hopes up, but then being let down.
The County asked us to take a young teen who was being sexually abused by a relative. We said yes, but she ended up not coming into care as her friend’s family decided to let her stay with them. The next call was regarding a teenaged girl and her newborn, and we quickly said yes, but a family friend ended up agreeing to care for her. We came very, very close to having an elementary-aged boy, but when the County went to pick him up and bring him to our house, he was no longer living at that address. Around 1:00 a.m. one night we received an emergency call to place a boy, but we said no as his behaviors might be risky for our children. We said yes to two toddlers, but the County found a foster home closer to their neighborhood. We said no to a 9-year old girl as we felt we would need to devote at least 20 hours a week to help her address her significant needs, and our work schedules wouldn’t allow that. And last week, we said yes to 10 and 12-year-old siblings, but a foster family who had a pre-existing relationship with the brother changed their minds and welcomed the siblings.
We received a huge shock when the County asked us to adopt a sibling group that we know. After a whole lot of deliberation, we said no, which just about tore me apart. These are great kids and I’d highly recommend them to prospective parents, but they just weren’t a good match for us. Even writing this makes me want to cry, though I know these kids deserve a family that better fits their personalities, likes, and needs.
So, our house remains empty for now. And my hand remains wrapped around my iPhone waiting for the next call.