Almost 10 years ago, my husband and I become licensed foster parents. Not long after we received our license, the phone rang late one evening. It was an emergency placement call for a little girl.
We said yes.
I remember the flurry of anticipation as I set up the crib and gathered pajamas and bottles, checking the clock every few minutes and waiting for the caseworker to arrive. We had completed the training classes, passed our home study, and made space in our home. We thought we were as prepared as possible.
We weren't.
Last night - almost 10 years later - the phone rang again. Another emergency placement. Another little girl.
Once again, we said yes.
As I sat on the couch in the quiet hours of the morning, snuggling a frightened little girl whose whole world had just been turned upside down, I found myself thinking about everything the last decade has taught us. The training prepared us for policies, procedures, and expectations. But living foster care has taught us lessons no classroom ever could.
1. Our "agency" is more than an organization.
When we started fostering, "the agency" felt like a building. A system. A collection of rules and paperwork.
Now, when I think about the agency, I think about people. Our family coordinator who remembers our children's names and interests. Who knows exactly which child might fit best with our family. Who can't change the tough stuff but is always there to listen. The case worker who shows up at our door with a stuffed Bluey because she remembered a child in our home loves that character. The people who answer late-night phone calls, celebrate reunifications, cry through difficult removals and transitions, and keep showing up even when the work is incredibly hard.
Organizations don't care. People do. And over the years, we've been fortunate to work alongside people who care deeply.
2. Sitting with a child's trauma is heavy.
Training can explain trauma. Living with a child who has experienced it is something different.
It's one thing to hear statistics about abuse and neglect. It's another to be driving with a child in the back seat and hear them casually describe things no child should ever experience. To comfort nightmares. To watch fear appear in seemingly ordinary moments. To realize that behaviors often make perfect sense once you know the story behind them.
You can't fix a child's trauma. But you can sit with them in it.
Sometimes the most meaningful thing you can offer is simply a safe place where they' don't have to carry it alone.
3. It's almost never what you expect.
You think you know what kind of children you'll care for. You don't.
You think you'll know how long they'll stay. You won't.
You think you understand how a case will end. You almost certainly don't.
Every child is different. Every biological family is different. Every placement changes your family in different ways. Every goodbye feels different.
Just when you think you've figured foster care out, it humbles you again.
After nearly 10 years, I've learned to hold my expectations loosely and simply focus my attention on whatever today needs.
4. Success looks different here.
In most areas of life, success is measured by achievements and outcomes. Foster care doesn't work that way.
Sometimes success is a child sleeping through the night for the first time.
Sometimes it's hearing genuine laughter.
Sometimes it's watching siblings play together without fighting.
Sometimes it's a biological parent showing up consistently for visits.
Sometimes it's a child asking for help instead of acting out.
Sometimes it's reunification.
Sometimes it's adoption.
Sometimes success is simply knowing a child experienced safety, stability, and unconditional love while they were with you.
The victories are often small. But they are never insignificant.
5. Biological families become real too.
In the beginning, it's easy to think of biological parents as names on paperwork or people who made bad decisions.
Then you meet them. You hear their stories. You see their love for their children. You begin to understand that most are carrying generations of trauma, addiction, mental illness, poverty, or circumstances they never chose.
That doesn't excuse harmful choices. But it does create compassion.
Over the years, I've learned that many biological parents desperately love their children. They simply haven't experienced the stability, support, or healing needed to parent the way they want to.
Foster care isn't about choosing sides. It's about loving children while hoping for healing wherever it's possible.
6. Foster care changes your whole family.
People often ask what foster care has been like for us. The truth is, it hasn't just changed me. It has changed all five of us.
Our sons have learned to share parents, bedrooms, toys, and traditions. They've learned that goodbyes can hurt and that loving someone is worth the risk anyway. They've celebrated reunifications and grieved losses. They've welcomed strangers who quickly became family, even if it's only for a season.
Our family rhythms have changed. Our perspective has changed. Our hearts have expanded.
Foster care doesn't just impact the people who come into your home; it reshapes everyone who already lives there.
7. The power of showing up is unmatched.
Looking back, I don't remember every detail of every placement. I don't remember every court date, home visit, or training.
What I remember are the ordinary moments.
Reading bedtime stories.
Helping with homework.
Cheering from the sidelines at soccer games.
Holding a scared child at 2am.
Making pancakes.
Listening.
Laughing.
Showing up again and again and again.
I've learned that children rarely need perfection. They need consistency. They need someone who keeps showing up.
As I sat on the couch last night with another little girl who had no idea how much her life had just changed, I realized something.
Ten years ago, I thought our family was signing up to change children's lives. Now I know it has changed ours.
We've been given the incredible gift of walking alongside children and families during some of the hardest seasons of their lives. It has stretched us, humbled us, broken our hearts, and filled them in ways I never could have imagined.
If there's one lesson these last 10 years have taught me, it's this: you don't have to have all the answers to make a difference. Sometimes the most important thing you can do is simply answer the phone, open your door, and keep showing up.
And sometimes that's enough to change a life - including your own.
There are children in our community tonight who need a safe place to land. If you've ever considered foster care, we'd love to help you learn more about what it really looks like. You don't have to have all the answers - you just have to be willing to take the first step.
For more information, visit www.fostermedina.com.
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