Why I Became a Foster Carer

Six months ago, I nervously sat before a panel of eight people after months of intense assessment, trying to convince them to let me become a foster carer. It had been such a journey to get to that point, and after I heard the unanimous “yes”, an even greater journey started. The next week, a three year old little girl arrived at my door. She instantly stole my heart and caring for her has been the most beautiful and worthwhile thing I have ever done.

When I tell people about my new adventure, a lot of questions usually follow, the first being ‘why?’. It’s a question I find difficult to answer in a few sentences, because the decision came from an accumulation of so many experiences, conversations, heart-breaks, prayers and convictions. But it’s also a question I want to answer properly and that is why I decided to write this blog post.

I was ten years old when I first became aware of the realities of foster care. My big sister went off to university and my parents opened the doors of our home wide, welcoming in multiple children at a time. I came to understand very quickly that children placed within the care system have stories characterised by pain. The very fact that they have been

torn away from their birth parents (which is always the last resort) is trauma enough, but when you hear the depth of the anguish they have been through, it is enough to shatter your heart. As you can imagine, children placed within the foster care system often carry heavy burdens of fear, shame, frustration, guilt, anxiety, confusion, anger, rejection… I could go on. They are often caught up in vicious cycles of self-sabotage and it is common that they will reject any well-meaning attempt of showing love. It was difficult to grapple with these things as a child, trying to understand the behaviour of the new sibling I had gained. But I realise now that those experiences cultivated a deeper sense of empathy and resilience in me. It was definitely challenging growing up in a fostering family, but I’m so glad I did. There was nothing more exciting than preparing for a new child’s arrival, nothing more beautiful than getting to know them personally, and nothing more rewarding than realising they feel comfortable enough to let their guard down around me. I have had so many conversations that I will never forget, felt so much solidarity and experienced such a sense of urgency to change things, all because I grew up in a family that welcomed in vulnerable children.

There were a few other experiences that were significant to me making the decision to become a foster carer. Two of those would be my visits to Uganda and Kenya. In these two beautiful countries, I met and listened to the stories of so many children and families

who had experienced deep trauma. My heart broke for them and the urgency to do something stirred again. But I also felt convicted by the complications I knew were involved with being a White British female trying to help in a third world country. There’s so much I could say about this, but this blog post would get very long. What I will say is that I believe there is a place for these visits, but I also believe supporting local people in helping their own community is usually more effective. I realised there were ways I could support the change I longed to see in these countries from my own home town, and also realised I didn’t need to move away from my home town to care for traumatised children.

I returned from Kenya in 2016 and dived straight into my first year of teaching. That year was a whirlwind. With the pressure, workload and new responsibilities, I have to admit that I put all these thoughts on hold. My full attention was on my class and everything else in my life took a back seat. I realise now that this was a mistake, but it seemed so necessary at the time. It’s no surprise that when I let work become such a high priority, everything else fell out of balance. At the end of the year, when I finally stepped back, I realised I had neglected my own health and lost sight of my intentions for my life. It was at the end of that year I reconsidered what I really wanted to do with my life. I was still passionate about education but also couldn’t ignore the pull on my heart towards foster care. That was when I began enquiring about the assessment process.

I didn’t tell anyone except my parents about these enquiries. It felt so scary and daunting to me and I knew that I could probably be put off by one person telling me it wasn’t a

good idea. As I began to find out more, I found myself becoming more convinced that this was the right next step for me. But I also felt so silly for thinking this. I knew that foster carers are not normally single twenty-two year olds at the beginning of their career. I found myself constantly going back and forth in my mind between “just go for it” and “don’t be ridiculous”. I decided to mention it to one friend, expecting her to tell me it wasn’t the right time, but she told me she thought it was a great idea. I began to think maybe I wasn’t being too crazy at all and maybe I could actually do this. I decided to go forward with the assessment process and see where it took me.

As I got further into the fostering assessment, I told more people about my new pursuit. A lot of people were supportive, but not everyone. Some people were genuinely confused by why I would choose this career path. As someone who cares more than I would like to admit about other people’s opinions, this was discouraging to me and it did make me question whether I was doing the right thing. So many doubts crept in: am I too young?

Am I crazy for choosing single parenting? Is this going to end my social life? Will the goodbyes break me beyond what I can bear? I wrote all my fears down (they filled two pages) and then asked God to increase my desire to move forward with the assessment if it was the right thing.

Most people who know me know that my faith is very important to me and will influence every decision I make. When going through this ‘I just don’t know what to do’ phase, it was my faith that pulled me through. I spent a weekend praying and fasting and it became very clear to me that vulnerable children are a priority to God. I discovered that there are at least forty specific references to the Father’s concern for orphans in the Bible and realised that the very act of welcoming in a vulnerable child and showing them a ‘no strings attached’ kind of love is a direct reflection of the gospel. I realised that in a world where Christianity always seems to be shown in a negative light, the Church need to step up and demonstrate the unconditional, sacrificial, inclusive and redemptive love of God. From this point on, I decided to throw myself in completely.

Once I had embraced my new adventure, I began enjoying the assessment process. I gave myself permission to get excited. I started filling the spare room with furniture and

toys. I began wondering who my first

foster child would be, what interests they would have, how I was going to make them feel welcome. I told people what I was doing with a lot less worry about what they would think, and began inwardly chuckling when I got the odd confused expression. My boss at work was so amazingly supportive and allowed me to reduce my hours so that I could still work part time as an early years teacher. Before I knew it, I was an approved foster carer with a three-year-old little girl.

Let me end this blog post by telling you about this beautiful little girl who has filled my

world with joy. She amazes me every day. She is open-hearted, kind, brave and so full of

wonder. She is resilient, radiant, bold and strong. She has a story that would break your heart but that doesn’t define her. I hope she finds healing under my roof, comfort in my arms and therapy in my words. Of course there are challenges and it feels very vulnerable to love her without limits whilst knowing she will leave me one day. But not a day goes by that isn't filled with laughter and love. And I just think: I could have missed all of this. I could have said no because of all the fears. I could have turned my back on her in an attempt to not get hurt. I could have listened to the doubts other people instilled in me over the pull on my heart. I’m so wonderfully glad I didn’t.