Just a day after resigning from my job to embrace the journey of foster care, I welcomed two charming boys into our home. Meet Max, age 10, and Sam, age 8—two bright, athletic, and endlessly entertaining brothers. Within moments of their arrival, they earned endearing nicknames that stuck.
The initial days were filled with exploration. They quickly discovered the best toys and who could throw the perfect spiral. We learned about Takis (a crunchy snack similar to rolled-up Doritos) and debated which local 7-Eleven had the best flavors. It was a fun time of getting to know each other.
Navigating the emotions of living with someone unfamiliar can be daunting. As the adult, I struggled to comprehend how difficult it must be for the boys, thrust into a new environment with different rules and complete strangers now making decisions about their lives.
Despite the upheaval, Max and Sam appeared unfazed during our first weekend together. They found solace in familiar places we visited and eagerly embraced new adventures. We built Lego structures, munched on Takis, and shared laughter over silly jokes. We also tried avocados, jumped on the trampoline, and sang songs, weaving together our lives as an awkward but hopeful new family.
But beneath the surface, the reality of their situation loomed. Like many children entering foster care, these boys carried the weight of past trauma. The emotional scars of their experiences would inevitably surface.
As time passed, Little Sam began to show signs of discomfort, his emotions roiling within him. Big Max resorted to shadow-boxing, only to be overtaken by tears as anxiety triumphed over anger. My husband and I felt helpless; we exchanged glances, searching for the right words. I found myself reassuring them, “You’re safe here, you’re loved,” hoping to convey a sense of security.
But in a poignant moment, my husband silently reminded me that it was not okay. It’s not alright for these boys to have endured trauma, to celebrate their birthdays with strangers. Sometimes, recognizing that reality is the most significant thing we can do.
In the weeks and months ahead, difficult court dates would loom, bringing uncertain decisions about their future. Will they remain together in our care, or will they be separated? The options in foster care often feel painful and unfair—filled with heartache these boys never asked for, leaving them with lifelong questions.
The more I engage with foster care, the more I see the complexities and shades of grey that color our world. My previous dilemmas—like choosing a college or a job—seem trivial compared to the challenges these boys face. I long for them to have the opportunities and stability I took for granted, to not worry about who will tuck them in at night or whether they will have their brother by their side.
Gradually, I’m learning to be present with them amidst the discomfort—to walk alongside them through these rocky moments, standing firm in the face of the not okay.
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