To be sure, foster care is a CRAZY roller coaster of emotions.
It feels like yesterday that the boys were placed with us, and just like that, 10 months later, they are gone. Did we give good enough goodbyes? Did we say 'I love you' one last time? Did we remember to send everything? Do they know how much they are loved? Do they wonder where we are? Do they wonder what is happening? Are they scared? There's a storm brewing...do they need comforting from all the noise? Do they miss us? Do they need extra hugs and cuddles today? What is going through their little minds?
I really can't adequately describe how I am feeling. I cry...a lot...at any given moment in time. My big kids don't even think my bursts of crazy crying are even weird anymore. It's normal to them now. My heart hurts. I look around my house and still see them everywhere.
All the alphabet refrigerator magnets have been put back on the fridge when just the day before 2 mischievous little boys had knocked them all off because it was more fun to slide them all over the kitchen floor instead. The toys that we kept behind that were scattered all over the house are now neatly stacked in their baskets. That favorite monkey toy they adored (that we bought an extra of so they could take one home) now sits silent on a box in the corner of the room. Excersaucers they no longer wanted to be in since they learned to walk sit motionless stored away in their room. Their room...those empty baby beds filled with memories of sleepy happy baby faces that greeted us every morning. High chair trays still sitting on the kitchen table needing to be cleaned from the shenanigans that went on the day before at dinner time. And my heart...my empty yet full hurting heart...
So, here I sit...in a silent house, with a near empty box of tissues, in front of a tear drenched keyboard, trying desperately to believe that 'it is well with my soul'.