“What am I going to do without you?” I joked to the social worker. Except it wasn’t a joke. My favorite adoption family case worker would soon be ending her weekly in-home visits. I had come to enjoy them over the years. To depend on them, really. From what I’ve been told , not many other people had such a fortunate relationship with their support team. But as our foster care license was coming to a close with our adoption, she would be a supportive crutch I would soon lose.
Each weekly conversation offered me encouragement, a sense of normalcy, and an opportunity to bring up some of the most awful things we had experienced that week without judgment. Besides my husband, she was my safe person through the 10-months of the very high highs and very low lows we experienced when fostering our son. I believed I’d be abandoned to my thoughts when she left and, as silly as it sounds now, I honestly thought there wasn’t a single person in the world who could relate to me when it came to parenting a child like mine. Of course, I was wrong.
“Two things,” she started. “First, you’re not alone. There are support groups for foster and adoptive parents just like you. Join one. You’d be surprised how common and relatable your experiences are.” She was right.
I Needed To Find My Tribe
My husband, Ryan, and I’s first visit to a foster-adoptive family support group still holds a fond place in my heart. We weren’t sure how much of the “craziness” we were dealing with was kosher to say aloud. Then the other parents spoke.
When they began their “How was your week?” speech, my jaw dropped. These people were in deep! My perspective quickly changed and I went from feeling constantly misunderstood in my community, to laughing over IEP meetings, soiled carpets, and social worker drama as if it was all completely normal. For us, it was.
I Needed To Feel Normal
Before attending a foster-adoption specific group, I tried a community-based mom’s group. But I struggled to relate to the other “new moms” who were raising babies. My new “baby” was seven years old, but I felt just as clueless as a first-timer with an infant. I thought in terms of the Goldilocks fable, Too old, too hard. Next, I tried a weekly special needs family group, but my child’s special needs were mostly invisible. I found myself having to justify why I was there. We still felt out of place. Too capable, too soft.
I needed to find a “perfect” place which didn’t require me to explain myself in order to fit in. It had to be foster-adoption specific. In this magical group, we shared our battle scars and celebrated accomplishments other families might achieve in one week with their biological child, but for one of us, it took eight months. Collectively, we dealt with every imaginable parenting scenario… and many unimaginable ones as well .
“Could you believe what that other couple went through?” Ryan asked. “It’s crazy to even think about,” I agreed with a slow nod. I thought, if those people can get through that, then we were going be alright . As would our son.
Each session offered Ryan and I a chance to gauge how we were holding up, but with realistic, peer-defined expectations. Thank God for those. The leveled playing field helped us take a much-needed breather and gave us hope for a win.
Trying Different Groups Was Helpful
The support groups we attended sometimes felt like parenting classes. I didn’t like those as much as others. Other times, we just gathered to vent over cheap pizza. Many felt similar to a grief support group or an addiction recovery program. We met in a church, a school, a medical clinic, and at the park. I’m still a member of several groups that “meet” online. These allow me the ability to vent some of my “crazy,” or connect with and uplift a fellow parent in need at odd times of the day. Having options made my ongoing participation more comfortable.
There was no official diagram posted anywhere, but I learned that all of us were working our way through what I’ve determined to be the Seven Stages of Foster-Adoptive Parenting: [i ]
The Seven Stages of Foster-Adoptive Parenting
Stage One: Ambition / False Hope
I think I can do this! How difficult can it be? I took the classes and passed my background check. I’m ready—bring on the kids.
Stage Two: Denial / Disassociation
These problems? Oh, they probably won’t last. We can ride this out. We’re just getting settled in. The kid will learn our system eventually . Let’s see how next week goes.
Stage Three: Doubt / Fear
Hmm, this situation wasn’t mentioned in training. I’m not sure how to approach this. Am I doing this right? The kid doesn’t seem to be responding like I hoped. What did I get myself into?
Stage Four: Anger / Bargaining
I realize this isn’t working. The situation hasn’t improved. I didn’t know how bad it could get. I didn’t agree to this kind of thing. Somebody needs to do something about this!
Stage Five: Burnout / Depression
No matter what I do, the kid is who they are, and I am who I am. I clearly cannot do this well. Nothing is working. I’m hurting, tired, and scared. The kid deserves better.
Stage Six: Self-Care / Hope
I need help. I have to find a way to manage my stress. I need to find someone to talk to—someone who understands me. Being more open feels good. The kid is responding to me in a different way .
Stage Seven: Advocacy / Acceptance
I realize what my priorities are. My emotional stability is being noticed by others. It’s encouraging to others. The kid is now working with me and we have seen progress. I believe we can do this together.
I can personally attest to completing all seven stages, only to be greeted by Stage One again as my relationship to my child develops and changes. Without a grow mindset, disappointment is inevitable.
As a group, we were learning to not place the burden of finding joy and self-worth on the children we cared for. A total family transformation is parent - initiated , which means as parents, we needed to be tending to our own hearts, minds, and energy levels. The secret ingredient for a long-lasting emotional connection to a child who has been in foster care is to deal with your own personal baggage.
Foster parents need to be mindful of their personal contributions to the relationship; observing their own emotional triggers, attachment styles, and general bias and expectations. By doing so, we can be less defensive, more proactive, and more compassionate parents.
So, if you need someone to vent to and work through your emotions with… they’ll be there in your support group. If you are just plain tired… you’ll find a pat on the back, an “I get it” nod, and a smile of encouragement. No one is there to judge. And more than likely, if you feel you need a dedicated therapist or additional services for your family, someone there will have the best number to call. Taking care of yourself is part and parcel to taking care of the children.
Support Doesn’t Stop There
To increase my self-care in-between group events, I wanted to read books with targeted (not generic) parenting solutions and be encouraged by true stories of other families who had gone through similar experiences. My support groups provided the best recommendations for books because they knew me personally and where I was in my journey. Soon, I had a personalized library on whole-brain children, attachment theory, trust-based relationships and trauma-informed parenting—all of which helped me become more comfortable in my new role as an “Forever Mom,” adoptive parent.
Finding My Tribe Was A Game Changer .
It helped smoothen many bumps along my rocky road. If you haven’t tried a support group yet, now is the time. Your people are waiting for you. And now, with a quick web search for “Adoption Support Group (Your State Name),” they are only a click away.
“And what was the second thing?” I asked my case worker before she left.
“Oh, yeah. Start writing down your thoughts, good and bad. Get them out and don’t look back.” So, I began a journal… then wrote a book. And now, I can return the favor and offer encouragement to others through my own story. She was right about her advice. All of it.
Owner/Editor - Chris Chmielewski