As I get closer to “Family Day,” I can’t stop replaying the dreadful scene of my son sobbing with confusion and grief when his foster mother puts him in my arms, says good bye, and I walk away from her. There is no way to prepare for this day. I’m trying to manage my expectations by accepting the fact that this will be an extremely traumatic experience for my son and an incredibly sad day for his foster family.
My son’s foster mother is an incredibly strong woman who for now fourteen months, out of a selfless act of love, chose to foster my son. She knows that as a foster mother, she may never have the opportunity to hold him or even see him again. I have a beautiful picture of my son with his foster mother where she is adoringly looking at him with intense pride and playful wonderment. I cry every time I look at this picture but I know that my grief is nothing compared to hers. While I’m busily enjoying my new mom life where now I am the one who gets to comfort him, celebrate his small triumphs, and watch him grow; she is on the other side of the world quietly grieving for a son whom she cared for and loved deeply. How can this be the only way?
Every six weeks I mail a care package to my son where I am able to include a half page note to his foster mother. Each letter gets increasingly more difficult to write as I get closer to “Family Day.” Are there even strong enough words to describe the incredible gratitude that I feel for her? Maybe all I need to say is simply, “Thank you.”