The HARDEST Thing About Being A Foster Parent…

Since 2018, my wife and I have been licensed foster parents. Now, for those of you that don’t know, foster care is a system in which children who are in desperate circumstances can be placed with state-certified caregivers until they’re either adopted or reunified with their biological families.

Now, I’ll be honest with you: fostering wasn’t really part of my “life plan.” It was one of those things that the wife gets really excited about and the husband only half-heartedly agrees to do—like weekly date nights, helping with the chores, or general conversation. Just another one of those things that the husband (in this case, me) just sort of grumbles and goes along with.

I mean, honestly, foster care? Isn’t that, like, really hard? Aren’t you basically just watching someone else’s kids until the government traumatically decides to take them away from you? Isn’t that basically like volunteering to have a stranger rip your heart out, throw it on the ground, and stomp on it repeatedly? I mean, what kind of CRAZY PERSON would actually volunteer to do something like that?

My wife.

My wife would volunteer for something like that—and she’d happily volunteer me as well. “What’s this? To become a foster parent, all you have to do is sit through endless hours of classes, fill out thousands of pages of paperwork, and go through a series of never-ending interviews? Hot dog! Where do I sign? Seth would LOVE to do this!”

Crazy Foster Parents

And so it was that in 2018, I dragged my feet through the licensing process, grumbling the entire way (classic Seth). Then, later that year, after a number of spiritual experiences and promptings (much to my chagrin), we told the State that we were ready to foster a child in need of a home. Within just a few short days we got a call—a call that informed us of a newborn baby boy with nowhere else to go. “Would you be willing to take him in?”

Outwardly, I said yes. But inwardly? I hesitated.

I looked at our children (ages two and almost one, at the time) and I wondered if we could—or even should—take in a newborn. Were we ready to foster? How hard would this be? As my wife got ready to pick him up, I remember holding her hand and asking her if we were doing the right thing. Kim reassured me, reminding me of our spiritual experiences and promptings, then quickly headed out the door. But the questions remained: How hard would this be?

Well, as it turns out, foster care is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Ever.

Seriously, there’s nothing that even compares to it. I mean, I could say that it’s the most physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually demanding thing I’ve ever done in my life—but that doesn’t quite capture its breadth and depth. It’s more like getting kicked in the groin emotionally, mentally, spiritually, and—yes—often physically.

What’s So Hard About Being A Foster Parent?

And what exactly is so hard about being a foster parent? Well, where do I begin? (And how much time do you have?)

Our lives are more stressful, that’s for dang sure! With three kids under the age of three—all of them hellbent on amassing personal injuries or destroying the house—there were always a million things happening at once.

Then there are the added demands on your schedule. I mean, two work schedules, wiping butts, doctor visits, wiping butts, Church meetings, wiping butts, family events, and wiping butts—there isn’t really a lot of time for anything else!

And then of course there’s this gnawing, persistent fear that—at any time—the government can decide that your foster son/daughter is ready to be reunited with their biological parents. They can then take that child out of your home and you and your other children are left to pick up the broken pieces and wonder (for the rest of your lives) what happened to that child whom you’ve grown to love.

This brings me to the hardest thing about being a foster parent…

The HARDEST Thing About Being A Foster Parent

The hardest thing about being a foster parent is when you realize that you almost didn’t become a foster parent; it was that moment when I realized that my own personal fear almost cost me my son.

When my wife brought our foster son home, that was just it—she brought our foster son HOME. Our two children immediately surrounded him and embraced him, offering him toys, hugs, and love. The subsequent days, weeks, and months of caring for our children were difficult—in terms of logistics, but I wouldn’t trade a single day of foster care for anything else; there’s nothing that compares to the joy that comes from parenting—nothing even comes close.

Yes, our lives are more stressful, and our schedule is incredibly demanding. But tucked inside our stressful, tightly-packed schedule are moments of indescribable joy: like when you see your foster child smile for the first time, or when he starts to play with his brother and sister; moments like when he asks for your help down the slide, or when you celebrate his birthday; those moments when he plays with bubbles, or when he eats his favorite pizza; it’s those moments when you come home from work and he runs up, hugs your legs and says: “Daddee!”

…those are moments that make everything worth it.

So yes, being a foster parent is hard. But again, the hardest thing about being a foster parent was when I realized that I almost didn’t become a foster parent; that my own personal fear almost cost me the joy that can only be found in caring for the life of another.