The world of foster care can feel like a turbulent ocean. On our personal journey as foster parents, my husband and I have been led into that stormy place. Our first placement was a beautiful baby girl. Her nickname in our home was “Sissa”. When we were matched with Sissa, we were told of the high probability that she would return to her birth parents. During the beginning months with her, my heart was so confused. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a hope to be her forever mommy. However, her parents didn’t resemble the false stereotypes that I’d heard about. They showed up for every visit, waited eagerly for her, and did everything that was asked

One of the things my husband and I most enjoy is hosting, and opening our home to friends and family. We both love to cook, and I love to bake, and we like to create a space that welcomes others. We’ve been living in our apartment building for almost 10 years. The spring before we actively began fostering (knowing that a baby in our midst would probably limit some of our activities), we hosted an open house, complete with drinks and a table laden with food. We assumed that “Open House” meant people would stay for a bit, but mosey on out. We assumed wrong! Our 2 bedroom, 1100SqFt apartment was packed with our neighbors the whole evening – like

Does anybody else have a hard time accepting help, let alone asking for help? No, just me?! I always knew going into foster care and embracing the model of Foster the City of having support friends was going to be the more challenging aspect. Oh for sure, saying goodbye and walking through that grief were some of the hardest moments of my life, but in the day to day, inviting others in has overwhelmed me. We just welcomed a new little one into our home, so we’re back in the new placement stage. Baby boy is our third little one in our home, and I don’t know how I would have finished this first month standing without the tangible and