It brings me such joy that this deep attachment and bond has been formed between us, yet is distressing to watch the mother’s reaction to seeing it. I can’t begin to place myself in her shoes.
My heart aches when this little baby reaches for me rather than the mother because it is me that they recognise as a source of comfort and familiarity. It brings me such joy that this deep attachment and bond has been formed between us, yet is distressing to watch the mother’s reaction to seeing it. I can’t begin to place myself in her shoes. I try to make the relationship between us as good as it possibly can be. I update the mother and bring photos. I tell stories of what we’ve been up to. I reassure her that although we are being called Mum and Dad, she will always be Mum as well.
And so, we wait. We wait for the authorities to decide this little child’s destiny. We hope and pray that we get to keep what has become a dearly loved member of our family. We get excited by the prospect of having them as our own child and giving them a place of belonging. We want this child so badly and have become such a complete family by their addition. This little one is well cared for, loved, attached, happy, safe.
At the same time, across town, a mother is missing her child. She’s hoping to have her child return to her. She’s trying yet failing to get her life on track as best as she knows how. She hasn’t given up on loving her child. She’s frustrated by the lack of support there is for her to care for her child.
Court day is going to make one mother overjoyed and the other devastated. This is the reality of many foster cases.
I love another woman’s child – and my heart breaks for her.
Author’s name withheld for privacy reasons
