Our Nana Bear came for an overnight visit and we could not have been more thrilled to have her here. It's very strange to welcome your own child into your home. What I mean by that is, Nana Bear feels very much like our child. When she left, our family changed forever. We loved her every bit as much as we love James. We had plans for her future. We had plans for our future as a family of four. We had very much given ourselves to this child completely. And as a foster parent you HAVE to do that. You HAVE to fully and completely love your foster kids because that's what they need, but it hurts to fully love.
No parent on earth who has had child die would ever say that loosing their child was easy. Loosing Nana Bear was very much like a death. Now, I say that in all respects to people who have lost their child and cannot see them or call them or write letters to them because we can do all those things with Nana and so I know loosing her was not exactly like a death. But it sure hurt like a death. She was gone. We wouldn't be there for her anymore. We couldn't care for her, put her to bed, feed her, discipline her, read to her, teach her, dress her, bathe her, play with her. . . the list could go on forever. She was gone. Did we sign up for that? Yes. Could we ever in a million years have prepared ourselves for that pain? No. Do we choose to still open our hearts completely to children now? Yes. It's worth it. They need it. And we love it.
So anyway, I'll get back to talking about her visit. It was weird to be feeding her, bathing her, dressing her, changing her, playing with her. . . all over again. She's mine, but yet she's not mine. We enjoyed her every move. We smiled at her every noise. We praised her every breath. We were so happy to have our girl home and we ignored the fact that she would be leaving in 12 hours and just simply loved and lived in the moment. It was fabulous. I can't describe accurately how fabulous it was, but it was fabulous.