I'll Stand By You: Thoughts for my Julie Girl

Foster care and adoption are hard. Anyone who says differently hasn't had the pleasure and pain that is taking someone else's child into your home and making them their own. While there are certainly happy and wonderful moments, there are also many pushed to the limit, had it up to here, beyond exhausted moments.

I fell head over Mommy heels in love with Julie and Ant the first time I ever met them. Ant with his chubby little face and Jules with her insatiable need for cuddles and affection. They were mine. But they weren't.
They had a history that I was not a part of, a history that had caused deep wounds. And while I was expecting those wounds to be there, I had no idea the true impact they would have on these little ones not even day to day, but minute to minute.

Ant is very young and his wounds will heal. I have seen evidence of it already as his confidence grows. He isn't worried when I leave. He knows I'll be back. He reaches for me when he is hurt and a kiss can make it better. His wounds haven't had a chance to take root. While I know that there will be struggles down the road he has already decided that I'm Mommy and that works for him. As with most injuries, the younger you are the smaller the scar. Our bodies and minds both bounce back quickly at 2 years old.

Julie however, bears wounds that reopen on a daily basis. She is only four but the heft of what she has seen and been through weigh on her and effect her emotions, actions, and very being. She has been let down and disappointed more times in her short four years than many people are in their entire lives. When I leave she asks, "Mommy are you coming back?" not wondering when I'll return, but if.

She has both abandonment fears and attachment issues and her need to control her environment is so great that there are times she chooses to act out in extreme behaviors rather than have something change in even a minimal way. There are so many parts of her past and present that are confusing and messy and not only doesn't she have the words to express it, she doesn't even understand it.

I remind her countless times a day that she is loved, that she is wanted, that we are so happy she is around I hug her and remind her that she will be with us forever. The problem is that she's heard those words many times before and still come up empty. I want her to believe me. I want her to understand that I really and truly will be there for here forever. I want so badly to fix her. I want to take away the pain that passes in her eyes and the fear I hear in her voice. But the hard and stone reality is that the only thing that will change anything for this little girl are prayer, and time.

So I will give her both.

I will live each day knowing that it is probably going to be tough. There will be tantrums and out of control seemingly irrational behavior. I will sit beside her as she sobs and I will show her that she wont lose me. I will hold her in the middle of the night when she doesn't even know why she's terrified. I will teach her that while behaviors have real consequences, there is always forgiveness. I will tell her and show her every day that I love her until she is sick of hearing it. We will sing and snuggle and pray and laugh and some day by God's grace she will realize that she is cherished and loved and wanted, forever.

And when as she grows these messy emotions sneak back up on her time and again I will be there to remind her always who she is, my daughter yes. Even more importantly a daughter of Christ.
She doesn't know yet how much she and Ant have changed my life. All of the things that they have already taught me can not be counted. These words are promises she can't currently trust but someday I hope she will read them and remember.

Each night I sing I'll stand by you as they go to bed and it will be my solemn promise. I'll Stand by You. No matter what. I'm not going anywhere.