It’s kind of like waiting to be asked to Prom. You aren’t 100% sure someone will but you are really hoping.

I started the journey of getting my license to Foster in the middle of a pandemic. I know, what a crazy time to decide to change my life completely, right? Who does that?

Well, considering how many calls I received from my old work buddies in our Emergency Department needing to cry out their tears that they held back from seeing and taking care of an influx of abused kiddos, it’s a little less surprising. My heart broke for my friends and for the little ones that they saw. And I knew I could be a safe haven for someone in need. So I jumped in. I had many things that slowed down my process. Family or friends needed to stay with me short term and took up my spare room. I knew that I needed to get them settled prior to my Home Study since they wouldn’t truly live with me so I waited. I worked on all that I could, completed classes, child-proofed my house, collected items, EVERYTHING. And then I waited.

Finally, I was able to compelete the final steps. I’ll post later about how my Home Study and Fire Inspeaction went, because I feel like I couldn’t read enough info to prepare me and hope that I can help calm others’ nerves in the future. Let me tell you, I left no boxes unchecked. I was determined to get the greenlight the first time around.

I was told that it could take 3-4 weeks to complete all of my documentation after the Home Study was complete. My fabulous Home Developer, Lauren, assured me that it is a long wait but not to let that worry me. At the time, I smiled, took a deep breath, and said “ok thanks”. But that was before the Home Study. That was before words became action. I was still hopeful that I might be an exception (don’t we always hope that?) and not the rule. Maybe I would get my call/email within the first couple of weeks!

Nope.

As the first week completed, I told myself “thats ok, you knew that would be really unlikely. Maybe next week”.

At the end of the second week, I looked back on my work life and was thankful that the call hadn’t come… or so I told myself. I had to work an overnight shift, we had a ton of work that was completed and I had an 11-year-old’s sleepover to help supervise. But let’s be real, I was still disappointed.

I hate waiting. It is not something I am particularily great at. So as we come close to the end of the third week, my worries are starting to sneak up on me.

What if they don’t like me? What if they voted against giving a single woman a child? I haven’t had my own child so perhaps they decided I wasn’t really what they were looking for? Did I say something wrong that counted against me?

It reminded me of waiting to hear if I was going to be asked to Prom or not… by the way, I wasn’t. Doubt and fear of being found wanting snuck up on me. At 32 years old, I should be able to overcome that feeling but it remains. I am reminding myself that we all feel this way sometimes. The children that come into my home will certainly feel this at some point. Perhaps it’s a helpful reminder that they will need extra reassurance. I am trying to find peace in my waiting. Because truth be told, it could still be a few more weeks…

I just really hope not!