Ode to a Foster Mother

Before I go to bed every night, and probably 100 times during the day, I think about what our little Henry is doing. Most likely, since he is only 3 weeks old, he is either eating or sleeping. But there is no doubt that he is under the care of a foster mother in Guatemala City. These women are truly superheros in my book. Think of every occurrence that happens for new parents, such as changing diapers, feeding, getting up at all hours of the night, clothing the child, etc. Well, instead of us doing all of this for Henry, a woman who we have never met is doing all of that on our behalf. Our son, who will we love and cherish for the rest of his life, is right now getting all of his basic needs met by a stranger. Even though we have been going through this adoption process for a long time, that isn't a thought that is easy to get used to.

It can't be easy to be a foster mother. Besides going through all of the things that new birth parents have to go to, the foster mother knows that the child she is caring for will be taken from her someday. It's not a stretch to believe that most foster moms become attached to the children they care for, but they have to say goodbye in some hotel in downtown Guatemala City, as they watch two emotional and sleep-deprived Americans swoop in and preen over the child. We will give a gift to the foster mother, of course, but material possessions and even words cannot express the debt of gratitude that we owe her.

Once we get to Guatemala and meet the foster mother, I'm sure we will have a list of 134 questions to ask her about what Henry likes and dislikes. And, even though he is our son and we will be so excited to finally meet him, I am convinced that at the moment the foster mother leaves, and we are alone with him, I will feel like I did when my parents left me in my college freshman dorm room: Excited, yes, but a little scared.

God bless Henry's foster mother, and God bless foster mothers everywhere.