3.11.1, In the end.

Three kids left

after eleven days

with me.

And just like I said here, I was sad.  Super sad.  

But I was also grateful.  Incredibly grateful.

I was grateful that I had gotten the opportunity to know these little beings.  I was grateful for the strength that pulled me through those eleven days and the emotional meltdowns that each of the three (and I) suffered at one point or another.

I was proud.  Very proud.

I was proud that we had met the expectations of an enormous challenge.  I was proud that the kids had shown growth in "using their words" to handle conflict and "remembering their manners" when asking for help.  I was proud that our family had grown.

I was moved.  Deeply moved.

I was moved that these little beings trusted us so whole-heartedly with so little reason to.  I was moved that they trusted us enough to call us "Mom" and "Dad."  

We hadn't had that before.

Mom.

Dad.

We always knew that we were a "mom" and a "dad" to all of the kids that we had cared for. 

But we had never before had the title.  

WOW

I have never asked or expected to be called "Mom."  And caring for all of the kids we've had - and especially that respite placement - has really brought to the surface why we want to have a family.

It has nothing to do with being called "Mom" or "Dad."  It has nothing to do with thinking it would be "fun" to have a baby or "see" what a miniature combination of Doug and Marsha would be.  It has nothing to do with having someone to take care of us when we are old and frail or it being "the next phase in our life."  All of these things feel fun and applicable, but they also feel like a great big bonus in comparison to the heart of what parenting children means to us:

We desire to have a family because we long to share experiences, opportunities, and most importantly, love with a child(ren) that may not know what the world has to offer.

Simple as that.

And hence, we've welcomed two more.

XO