The cycle that began the journey

I was adopted.  I placed a child for adoption.  I am now a foster parent.  I could probably leave it at that, and the cycle would be self explanatory.  But, my understanding is there can be TOO short of a blog!

Mom, Daddy, and my sister all lived in London, England in 1969.    They had made the Navy chaplain aware of the fact that they were interested in adopting an infant boy. Yes, I said a boy.  Daddy was very adamant about that! He has been into sports his entire life, and was looking forward to sharing his talent and skill with his son.  One day, the chaplain called them.  He knew of an infant girl who was available.  If Mom and Daddy didn't want to take her, the family who owned and ran the bar on base (including living over the bar) would take this girl.  Mom and Daddy did what they always do when they have to make a big decision.  They got on their knees and spoke with God.  Daddy reminded God more than one time in this prayer that he REALLY wanted a little boy.  They finished praying, got off their knees, looked at each other, and KNEW that God wanted them to take this little, infant girl.  This was their daughter.

The laws in England were quite different than they were here.  The birth mother must retain custody of the infant for 6 weeks.  This is supposed to give the birth mother time to be certain of her decision.  My birth mother (who was American, but I will not give any more details about her) never picked me up, cuddled me, or held me for the 6 weeks she had custody of me. This is how she kept herself from getting too attached to hand me over to my parents. 41 years ago, we did not realize the devastating effect this has on infants.  Later on, my parents found out I had been exposed to alcohol, cigarettes and drugs in utero.

I have heard many stories of the troubles my parents had with me as an infant.  The horrible things both they and I had to go through.  I will not bore you with the details, but I will tell you that it gives me empathy for the children who come into my home.  I realize that they had the cards stacked against them before they drew their first breath. It also gives me hope! While I am not what I should be...with my family's love, God's patience and forgiveness....I have beat the odds and turned into someone my parents can be proud of.

In July of 1989, I found out I was pregnant.  I had graduated high school a virgin, and was very proud of this fact.  But, I had always been rebellious, and this was a natural next step for me.  I can tell you that NOTHING, and I mean NOTHING has scared me more than having to look my Southern Baptist deacon Daddy in the eye and tell him I was pregnant. (Mom had had surgery, and was in their bedroom recovering) To this day, even though I KNOW I broke their hearts, they have not judged me.  They just wanted to know if I'd been to see a Dr (I had not) and if I was OK (I was).

As soon as my pregnancy was confirmed, I knew what God wanted me to do.  I would have made a great Mom.  To this day, I have no doubt of that.  But, no matter how hard I tried, I could have never been my daughter's father (yes, it was a girl.  We call her Lauren).  There are many people who believe my parents made me place my beautiful daughter for adoption.  They are wrong.  I did what was best for my child.  I did what I felt God leading me to do.  Besides...if I listened to my parents, I would NOT have been pregnant to begin with. I think it is easier for people to believe that I was made to do it, than to try to understand how I could willingly hand my child over to someone else. Its called LOVE, people. Plain and simple.  On December 15, 1989 Lauren was born.  On December 19, 1989 her parents took her home.

So, my parents love a child who is not their biological child.  My child is loved by parents who are not her biological parents. (For the record, I love my biological child very much.  More than you will ever understand).  And, I love every child who comes into my home, none of whom are my biological children.

This is the cycle that began this journey.

Introduction before we share this journey

Have you ever argued with God? I have! And, might I add, I have NEVER won an argument with Him.

My name is Jennifer, Miss Jennifer to my precious foster children. I am 41 years old, I have never been married, and I have no children.

So, you can understand WHY, when I felt God calling me to be a foster parent, I argued with Him for a while.  One day, in the middle of 2008, at the age of 39, I felt God calling me to be a foster parent to children 2 years of age and younger.  I almost made an appointment to visit a psychiatrist, because I just new I was losing my mind. There are SO many more qualified people out there! People who have husbands (I had lost the love of my life 2 years prior), people who had raised children, people who others looked at and said "WOW, she'd make a great mom".  I was none of these things.  I was a single woman with 3 dogs, whose parents live almost 700 miles away.  I enjoyed my free time, liked having extra cash, and loved spending time with my friends almost every night! But, the more I argued these points with Him, the stronger the pull to begin this journey became.

I sat down with the pastor of the Church I was attending, and told him my dilemma.  I FELT like God was calling me to do this.  But, it made no sense at all.  So, maybe it was Satan, trying to lead me astray.  The pastor gave me some very good advice.  He said, if I thought this was something God was calling me to do, start working towards it.  If God didn't want me to do this, He would close the door, and I would have my answer.  Sometimes, God just wants to see if we will be obedient to Him!

And, this, my friends, began the "Journey of a single foster mom".