Mother's Day

There are many mothers in my life who I care deeply for, but lately, there is one particular mother who is often on my mind.

Little Bro's foster mother.

This woman brought Little Bro into her home when he was 8 weeks old. She'd never fostered a child before. She has changed his most epic diapers, feed him in the wee hours of the morning, sang to him when he is upset or scared, taught him to crawl and walk, clothed him, sheltered him....and taught him how to love and trust. She has built her every moment around him for the last 8 months.

And she'll be doing it for 11 more.

I look at their hands together and I can tell these two are a team. She's not just taking care of my baby until we can bring him home, no, she's molding him and shaping him into a personality and individual he will forever become as he leaves babyhood and enters toddlerhood; a point in his life that will shape who he continues to become as he moves into childhood and adulthood.

She is raising MY child. For him. For me. For everyone but herself.

Honestly, I would never be selfless enough to do such a thing. Not for the 9 months Little Bug's wonderful foster mother did it and definitely not for the 19 months Little Bro's foster mother is going to be doing it. I don't have words for how much I cannot understand why she would do such a thing. Little Bug hasn't even been with us for 2 years...when I think about giving him up now, the idea is unfathomable.

This week we were able to send over a little gift for her with a letter that could never really begin to thank her. As reality sets in, we realize that not only is she emotionally investing herself in our son, but financially she is investing in him as well. She must buy bigger clothes and more age appropriate toys for him with her own money. I'm pretty positive no one told her to expect to be fostering a child for 2 years. We're committed to helping her in the limited capacity we have, but it's not enough, nor will it ever be.

So on this Mother's Day weekend, my thoughts are almost solely trained on her, the woman whose hands are holding my son in his infancy and will be leading him into his toddlerhood. The woman who I cannot begrudge all the moments I am missing because I am so overwhelmed with gratitude and respect for the fact that she is willing to take my place in the interim...

...to stick her pinky finger out and let my son hold on tight.