The Decision to Say No

Fostering is hard. By far, it is the hardest thing I have ever experienced. At the same time though, it is a ride I love--to share with kids in my house the wonder of the thing called childhood. Most of them haven't had the opportunity to bake cookies, run around the capital, chalk the driveway (and themselves). I get such joy out of reactions to glow-in-the-dark jammies, songs bawked like a chicken, and simple games of hide and seek. I am reminded of Sass saying that she liked it here because she had a bedtime. And Beignet telling me the very confusing: You always don't never feed us dinner. Which I interpreted as her knowing that there's always food in this house, and yes, dinner on the table every night.

I assumed at some point that a kid would be in the house and it would turn out they needed a forever home and tadah! here I am, already used to having said kiddo here, already adoring said kiddo, and already hoping that this is how her story would end.

In truth though, that has not been the way the past week has gone. Beignet's case has been transferred to the adoption unit. I have the option of adopting her. Of providing this probably-the-easiest-kid-who-has-set-foot-in-my-door with a forever home. The thing is, though, it doesn't feel right. I peek in at Baby B sleeping at night and the same thought comes to my mind every single night: I hope we can find the best forever for you.

In the end, I feel that B deserves a resounding YES to the adoption question. No matter how I try to spin the web in my mind, I can't say that...that I feel in the deepest corner of my heart that she is meant to stay. B doesn't need someone to ride the fence or spin a complicated web. She needs someone who is going to spread their arms out as far as they can reach and welcome her with the resounding YES that she deserves.

Here's to finding forever. I am with you, Beignet, until we find just the right spot.