My girl….

A couple of days ago as Serenity, Edward and I headed into the matinee showing of Disney’s ‘Frozen’, I noticed my cell phone had a new message. I pulled the phone out of my purse and my eyes rested on a picture of a young girl I didn’t recognize. The caption, from a dear friend at DCFS, “Guess who?” As I realized who this precious face belonged to, took a deep breath, and gathered my faculties, my heart began to race. This wasn’t just any little girl; it was my little girl, or at least a little girl that I thought would be mine. It was Baby B…five years later. (See my previous post!) The last time I saw her precious face, she was buckled in the backseat of a caseworkers’ car and whisked away from the life she’d known snuggled deep in my arms, to the uncertainty of a new life with a family member she barely knew.

And now, five years later, her photo simply popped up on my phone on a random Friday afternoon. As I stared at the picture and looked into her eyes, I realized that I didn’t know her; that I wouldn’t have recognized her if I’d run into her on the street, that she has her life and I have mine and they have nothing to do with each other. I realized that the life I thought she would have wasn’t to be. And at that moment the fact that I didn’t get the opportunity to be her mother wasn’t nearly as important as the fact that she looked happy, contented and well cared for. It was an emotional place I never thought I would ‘get to’ after she left. That place, that deep loss, that grieving hole in my heart is just a distant memory. The hole was filled in by time, by space, by necessity and by a baby boy who was the silver lining inside that tumultuous black cloud.

I couldn’t help but smile as I looked into ‘my’ girls’ face. I put the new image side by side the one that still hangs on my refrigerator; a picture of an 18 month old smiling with hands raised; one placed there 5 years ago with a little caption taped on it that reads “pray boldly”. How beautiful to have been part of B’s story; to have mothered her if only for a time; to know that she is thriving and to hope that the foundation of love, nurture and attachment that was poured into her tiny heart during those days, cemented a firm foundation for which her entire life will be built. Despite the profound heartache and grief, depression and despair, questions without answers and breathtaking loss, I would do it all again just to have the opportunity to mother this precious little girl!

Then....

     Then….

and Now....

and Now….

 

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Published in: on December 30, 2013 at 1:58 am  Comments (7)  

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7 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. Oh Christie, what a gift!!!

    • It was sister! It took my breath away, but was such a blessing! :)

  2. Thank you for this beautiful post, Christie. I find so much comfort in how well you articulate your heart. We recently experienced our twenty month old, who we had from birth, being “whisked away”. In the midst of the pain and grief, we would do it all over again to be his family for this time. And our prayer is that God’s love that He experienced in our home would not return void, but would lay the foundation you talked about. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all you do for the children and for us foster parents who grieve “breathtaking loss”.

    • Bethany- I am SO sorry, and can honestly say that I understand fully where you are and where you’ve been. Pray that God will wrap His arms of comfort around you and give you hope!!! I know that the 20 months your boy spend in your arms and in your home will literally be the foundation for his life (whether he knows it or not!) Praying for you as I type!! :)
      Love and blessings,
      Christie :)

      • That’s ‘spent’ not spend!!

  3. This Christmas we said our first “goodbye” as a foster family. The little guy came to us as a 20 month old with barely any language – five words, to be exact. They were mama, dada, baba, stupid and shut up. Now, he is a thriving preschooler who has made such wonderful strides in the time he stayed with us. We all love him as if he were a part of our own family. Honestly, in his absence, it feels like we are mourning a death. I guess this is the moment when we decide if we are going to foster again or just fade away and guard our hearts. Even typing that out I know that we will press on and open our home again soon. So glad I found your blog – it has been a big source of comfort for me tonight. Thank you, friend. ~Alison

  4. Alison-When I read your comment, my heart sunk. So so so hard. And you are right- you are mourning a ‘death’ of sorts; the death of a precious relationship that will never be the same. I am praying that God will give you hope as you persevere through this really tough time- and that He will bring joy into your home and arms again very soon!!! I know that the Lord is saying to you and your sweet family-“well done, my good and faithful servants’!! Love and blessings-Christie :)


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