The email came quicker than I expected and shattered the path we planned. After work yesterday, I stayed in bed and slept off sadness from 4pm to 10pm. Around 7, I rolled over to see our two-year-old smiling at me then he fell asleep nose-nuzzled in my hair and toes pressed against my back. Kevin reached over to hold my hand until I was ready to get up.
But I didn’t sleep it off. Our husky was at our feet in the kitchen around the table. I wasn’t in the mood for food, but I woke Kevin up to talk about it. He already knew the details since I told him: Our age range was too small, and therefore, we are not permitted to foster to adopt in our county for several years. There wasn’t even the option of doing the training and waiting.
The slammed door came more swiftly than we anticipated. Our life has finally settled to where we could begin the process, but when we reopened the possibility, this door told us we could not welcome another kid through that process, at least for another four years. This “NO” made my mind whirl. My physical body denied us children because of cancer, and now the Foster/Adopt system in Fairfax County has shut the door on us too. I have survived cancer, but I’m still surviving the aftershocks.
On Sunday during church, Kevin and I prayed for God to realign our lives. Sometimes, that prayer comes with shutting doors and opening others. It’s not pleasant, but I know He has the best in mind for us. So sitting together late at night in the kitchen, we cried and prayed together – giving our grief to the Lord and asking for His guidance. I’m waiting for the silver lining.