I don't know what it's like to struggle with infertility, and it may or may not intersect with your story, but here's what I do know, the emotional, physical and spiritual pain that comes with infertility is worthy of our conversation. We have to go there. We have to talk about it, because it's a reality for so many foster and adoptive parents or those considering it. We have to be givers of grace to each other, willing to sit with each other in the pain without trying to solve the problem. It could be easy for those of us who are passionate about foster care to jump to a fix of "you should become a foster parent" for our friends struggling with infertility, but that may or may not be their best option. So, hear me in this—that’s not our intent. Today, we're diving into Caroline's story of infertility simply to open the conversation of how to determine if that is the right next step for you and how we can compassionately walk with our friends through infertility.
With the demands of parenting, time spent connecting with your spouse can easily be moved to the back-burner. It's a slow progression of choices and unintended consequences of decisions made. You intend to have that conversation with your husband, but with the caseworker coming over for a home visit today, it gets pushed lower on the priority list. Interruptions bring a change in plans, and suddenly, you haven't been able to have a date night in months. In our foster parenting journey, and now, raising a big family, I know my time with my husband, Clint, is so valuable. I am so thankful for our time together when it comes every other Tuesday night, but early on, I wasn't as good at protecting that time on the calendar. I allowed it to be moved, thinking we could make it up at some other time and then another week would pass without an intentional time to connect. I recently talked with Jill Savage about this, and why it's actually good for our children for us to invest in our marriages.
Abuse is not okay. As I listened to my guest, Desiree Moore, share her story, saying, "I'm sorry" didn't feel like enough. Adopted at the age of three, she suffered at the hands of those who were supposed to be her protector. She wanted to escape but didn't dare speak up. Foster care entered into her story at the age of seventeen as a welcomed relief. Throughout her journey, though, she longed to meet her biological mother. Years spent fantasizing about her and what that relationship would be like left her feeling confused and disappointed when the time finally did come for them to meet. I was so proud of Desiree for sharing, and I know that what she learned in meeting her mom will help us too.