Refugee Fostering: Being The Newb

It’s hard not to reflect on what 2018 brought us as we jump into 2019.  And had you told me in January of last year (or February, or March) that we’d be fostering refugee children later that year, it would’ve come as a big shock.  It wasn’t really on our mind, or nestled on our full plate as we had just moved into our new house (the one we had been building and had lived the nomad life as we watched it grow from the ground up), or assimilating to the challenges that come with raising three young children.

Photo Courtesy Augusta Rae Photography

But here we are.  New foster parents, having made it through the grueling paperwork process (dude, they know EVERYthing about us – wowza).  We got our toes wet providing respite care for another foster family over the holidays, and now we have our very own refugee foster placement.

As you probably read on my initial post about refugee fostering, we won’t be sharing about their lives on social media, and we’ll keep it pretty close to us even in person.  So you won’t learn their direct stories, but I wanted to share a little insight to where we are as a family.  I’ve bumped into many friends in the community – maybe in the grocery store, or while we scamper along pews at church, or maybe you’ve seen me frazzled at a doctor’s office.  I figured a little post about how we are would save me a little time for all the future bump-ins that will come my way.

Family Fridge Portrait (it changes from time to time)

Straight up?  It’s hard.  But it’s kind of like mastering trigonometry, or learning how to crochet, or bringing a new baby home from the hospital: there are massive challenges, but there are some pretty incredible rewards.

Let’s start with some of the hard:  as a mom, I know all kids are different.  You learn their likes, their dislikes, how they absorb information, what scares them, how they take affection.  So adding in a new face, with new cultural components, a different native language, and they already have had years of growth with another family setting?  That makes for a steep learning curve.  My go-to’s to help with that is: Food, Music, and Talking Through Everything.  Things feel a little less scary when your belly is full, you have tunes in the background, and someone is changing the unknown into “we can do this together”.

Snack Prep When Meeting a New Foster Placement

And then there are our own biological children.  With each new baby we brought home, there was always regression.  One kid gave up sleep when a sibling came along, another one decided to un-potty train themselves and diapers were requested.  As we’ve added in new foster friends, sleep has been hardest of all.  I think the level of sleep deprivation we have experienced is close to newborn baby situation.

How The H-G’s Handle Sleep Deprivation: One Pot at a Time

The biggest hard part has been the emotional needs of ALL the children under our roof.  The new ones need to know they are in the family, that they will be fed, that they will be loved, but that their family that isn’t here is still of importance.  Our existing munchkins need to be assured they still carry weight in the family, that their needs will continue to be met, and that mom and dad will still be mom and dad.  The juxtaposition of First World Problems that are concerns in the eyes of my biological children, with the legitimate needs that come from a history of Trauma, Hunger, and Basic Needs Being (or not being) Met is astounding.  I feel most of the weight on my shoulders can be found in the conflict between those two worlds.  And yet while my own biological children have never experienced true hunger, those emotional needs are what need the most attention for all of the kids.  Feeding a child and making sure they know we are there for them has great power.  This is heavy stuff, guys.  Heavy yet important stuff.

But as for all the good that has come from this: it is remarkable.  We have now experienced the First Snow as seen through the eyes of two refugee children.  Squeals and giggles and the dawning understanding of why gloves are so important.  Or to see our oldest jump into a conversation in Spanish, ensuring that a new friend feels welcome, safe, and that they would simply play with him.

And my husband?  Talk about total hotness and crushin on this man that I’ve known half my life.  The populations we work with don’t always have positive male role models, and so there is a fine line he must walk in being a caring, safe “dad” figure, while still knowing when I might have to be the main person with things.  And he has walked that line beautifully.  I will get taps on my shoulder, “I think they need you”, or he has so casually but so importantly said to me, “I know it’s hard, but there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for them.”  And with his tight-rope walking, both of our experiences have shown these children that he is safe, that he can be trusted, that they indeed are in this family.  We celebrated our 12 year anniversary the other weekend by taking FIVE children to an indoor water place (big thanks goes out to church friends that came with us to help juggle), and it was the perfect reminder as to why we belong together.  Forget flowers and chocolates, but a man that comes alongside you and is your partner in the biggest challenges you face?  That is true romance.

King-Sized Bed of Laundry, ALL of which Brad Folded (and Folds on the Regular)

And me?  I have seen the profound depths that motherhood calls us to reach.  Well, I know there are many more things I won’t necessarily experience (or have yet to), but another piece of the world of mothering has come into view.  There is an assumption that these vulnerable children just need a new mom, and it’s not like that at all.  Sometimes I am not the face they want to see at all – I am the wrong face, the wrong language, the wrong scent, the wrong everything.  Sometimes they could care less what my actual face looks like, but that I represent a stable role that they haven’t had in the past.  Fostering is complex – you want to be a safe person for them, but earning that safeness is a tread-lightly, read all the signs, examine every facial expression to see what works kind of situation.

So in short: it’s exhausting, it’s powerful, it’s important, it’s humbling, it’s gut-wrenching, it’s life-altering.

Much like a post I wrote years ago when we had a toddler and baby, we are in another season of Good Chaos.  Drawing on my experiences as a mom, sometimes I have this profound feeling of HOLY CRAP, I KNOW WHAT I AM DOING.  And then in an instant, my courage and strength cut out from underneath me to humbly show me that in fact, I still have so much to learn and that I must continue to work through some pretty hard things.

Prayers are always appreciated, come say hi/hola if you see us around town, and we’re thankful for all those who have lifted us up with meals, grocery trips, encouraging texts, material donations, and just loving on us in this big adventure.

Here’s to eyes opening to a new part of the world, and recognizing its beauty, even in the midst of its challenges.

~M

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