It has been my hope to write about each child that comes through our doors, to honor, to remember, to share the lessons learned. When I write, I process, and it has been a gift to walk through the lessons in community.
We have had two more foster kids in the past couple of months, but I found I could not write, not yet . . .
The writing for me is often the letting go part of the process. And there was part of me that has been holding my breath, part of me that did not know how to exhale, how to fully let go.
I had never heard the words “disrupted adoption” until Andrew and I were walking through it together. And understanding what it was and how to walk through it well were both baffling to me.
Parts of our process did not feel like mine to tell, and the part of it that was mine to own . . . I didn’t know how to put words to it. My hope is that in the days ahead that I will continue to sort it all through, to own it.
Silence for me means that I am trying to get my bearings; I am waiting for the words.