The Hardest Walk

While many of my dear friends went to walk a few weekends ago for the causes they believe in, I went on a walk of my own.

Many months ago, when the case worker handed me Sweet A, he told me, “her mother is pregnant, so let us know if you’d be willing to take the new baby as well.” Ever since that day we have prayed HARD for the baby that was to come. Over the last few months we were told that the biological mother hadn’t been to any doctors appointments and that with the continued use of drugs and neglect the baby may not survive. Let me tell you something, the pairing of prayer and patience will forged within you the faith that is needed when waiting for a miracle. I read article after article, I spoke with nurses, other foster/adoptive families, and I did research on the baby gear we would need when expecting a little one who would be born into the world with exposure or addiction to substances.

Screaming babies are often the soundtrack to the lives of foster/adoptive parents who chose to take in drug addicted babies. We tried our best to be prepared. I cried and prayed  for this sweet babe as he grew inside his safe haven that had quickly become a poisoned prison. Some days I would call JJ at work and ask if we could just pray. We had our diaper bag packed for a few weeks as we waited for a phone call. We waited, and waited, and then on a very rainy day the call finally came.

We were walking around Costco with A when my phone rang. We rushed back to the car, went home to grab the diaper bag, and then drove to the hospital to pick up the baby. We didn’t know what to expect. We were excited that he was here and that we were going to take him home, but we had no idea what was about to take place.

JJ parked the car and dropped A and I off at the entrance of the hospital. We went inside and I looked for someone who could tell us where to go, but there was no one. JJ, A and I wandered down two abandoned hallways before we saw a sign that said “Women’s Services”. The door was locked so we knocked until a nurse walked by. She opened the door, I told her we were foster parents here to pick up a baby. She smiled and told us they’d been expecting us.

What happened from here was a bit of a blur and I want to be careful with how I word things in order to protect those involved. As hard as DCS works, it is a broken system. This night illuminated that truth for us in a very difficult and real way. We had been told that our foster children’s biological mother had gone home, but she hadn’t. A very sweet nurse placed us in a private room and told us to wait. I held A close as JJ placed the carseat and diaper bag on a nearby rocking chair.

We waited for what felt like forever, confused as to the processes that were taking place. All I remember was hearing a woman in the next room crying. My heart sank because I knew who’s cries those must be. Seconds later the nurse walked in with a small bundle in her arms. She clicked the bundle into our carseat and told us to hurry. She escorted us out of the back of the hospital. As JJ brought the car around back to pick us up, the nurse looked at me and then at A and said, “I don’t know how you guys do this, it has to be so hard. I couldn’t do it. You must be people of faith.” I blinked away tears as I looked at the little bundle in the carseat at my feet and held A close. I honestly didn’t know what to say in that moment. I simply told her that “Yes, we couldn’t be foster parents if it wasn’t for God.”

JJ ran around the side of the car grabbed A and opened the door for me. I clicked the baby’s carseat into it’s base. The baby’s little cap had fallen down over his face and I just stood there in the rain staring at this little bundle, unable to move. As we drove away from the hospital I began to sob. JJ reached across my seat, grabbed my hand, and gave it a squeeze. I looked over to see tears streaming down his face too.

We cried hard all the way home. Once we were in our driveway JJ asked me if I was ready. A was asleep in the backseat, and the baby was crying. I just remember looking at him and saying, “No one should ever have to take a baby away from it’s mother. I know he’s safe with us, I know it’s good for him to be with A, I know we are doing the right thing, but I just feel so terrible. This should have never happened. I hate that this had to happen.” JJ hugged me tightly and told me, “As hard as all of this is, and as messed up as all of this is, that baby still needs a mama who can love him and keep him safe. He’s crying Tay and he needs us to love him.”

We un-clicked our seat belts, and started to unload our things from the car. Sweet A had her arms wrapped around JJ’s neck and was fast asleep on his shoulder. I walked up to our front door with the baby’s carseat in my arms. As soon as we were inside I removed his cap which revealed his little face. I scooped him up out of his carseat and held him close. I whispered to him how loved he was, how much we had been praying for him and how excited we were to see him. Then I kissed him on the cheek. It had been the most difficult night of my life and I would never forget it.

I believe all life is a gift. I believe God has called us to care for the orphaned, abused, and neglected. That night forever changed my life and changed who I am as a person, as a woman, and as a mother. That night I chose to walk into a situation that no one should ever find themselves in. I chose to love a very broken woman and her babies.

In many ways it was my walk as a woman: not just walking for my own rights but fighting for the rights of others who cannot yet speak or fend for themselves. To provide a home for the homeless and care for the unloved. Foster care is a byproduct of that which is ugly and evil in the world. Every story stems from brokenness. Every child deserves a safe and loving environment but even amidst the brokenness there are glimpses of light, new purpose that is born out of adversity, and hope springs eternal even in the face of discouragement. That is why I will keep walking and believing that beauty and love can grow even in the darkest of circumstances.