As a foster child, you can experience the same feeling as getting into a spaceship and heading to the moon and back fostering. In one moment you may be standing on solid earth, but in the next you might find yourself navigating a cosmos and trying to make sense out of your foster child’s world. There’s no manual and no automatic navigation system. Only the heart – full of hope, love, maybe even a pinch of fear.
Imagine inviting a little foreigner into your house. You do not know them and they do not know you. You’re hosting an alien. There are many cultural shocks, communication problems, and hesitations on both sides. Those awkward first moments are full of magic. When Timmy was a little boy, he offered you a broken toy. You may remember the time when Sarah scrawled you a grateful note in her shaky handwriting. Despite being small, they are still monumental. They show trust slowly building, as if moon dust was formed over years.
Once stilted and sparse midnight conversations begin to flow. One night you might chat with your foster kid about the stars as you gaze at them from your backyard. You might find that they are talking about their hopes of becoming astronauts, or even their favorite icecream. This is your reward, whether you choose to see a constellation or not.
It’s not all stars and glitter every day. Black holes are those moments of frustration and fear or sadness. It was the time your foster kid came home angry, for no apparent reason. Or when they cried until they fell asleep. Such moments can bring your spirit down. What keeps your spirit anchored? What keeps you anchored?
Ever experienced a rocket launch that failed? Yes, foster parenting can sometimes feel like this. There are days when you have to eat cereal instead of spaghetti, or your plans fail. It’s not uncommon to have weeks of school meetings and appointments with healthcare providers, as well as emotional meltdowns. It’s chaotic, messy, and oh, so worth it.
Don’t make it out to be all roses – or moon dust for that matter. There will be endless paperwork and red tape. Imagine that you’re knee deep in forms. Half are meaningless. You’re on the phone with your child’s school, who asks you to attend an urgent parent-teacher conference. Your first reaction? “Can I not be alone on my moon !?”. My best advice was given by another foster parent. “Dance on the rain. It’ll make you feel even happier in the sun.” This may seem corny but it is true.
Meeting other foster families can be comforting. Sometimes, sharing war stories over a coffee is like refueling a space shuttle. You will hear stories about dads who stay up all-night to comfort a child in tears or moms who bake cookies because for foster kids, the aroma of cookies is a sign of safety. These stories do more than inspire. They remind you that your journey is not an isolated one.
Humor helps, too. It’s like that time you were cooking a new meal and accidentally set the fire alarm off, which sent your dog into a frenzied barking frenzy while your foster kids erupted in laughter. Or, when your foster kid decided the family cat was in need of a spaceship that was made out aluminum foil and boxes. These are the kinds of memories that become part of family folklore.
Walking this path is about accepting imperfections. The key is to show up and give it a shot even when you feel exhausted. Like an astronaut training on a computerized environment, you may not feel prepared. But then you realize that the space environment is more unpredictable. The goal isn’t perfection; it’s being present.
Fostering, in the end is a journey. It involves bumps, detours – and even crash landings. It is a real journey of love marked by small moments of glitter that make the journey worthwhile. Though intimidating, it’s breathtaking to see the night sky. You shine brilliantly as a parent in the darkness of the night sky, shining a light of hope and love.