Adoption Stories Archives - Page 3 of 4 - Arrow Child & Family Ministries

The TODAY Show recently wrote an awesome article for their website featuring an Arrow family! Seventeen-year-old Breanna was recently adopted by her foster parents, Fred and Diane Shaw. The Shaws were empty-nesters before they welcomed Breanna into their home, and at first they were nervous about fostering a teen. However, Fred and Diane soon realized they had nothing to be scared of! They love being Breanna’s parents, and Breanna is so happy to have a family to call her own. Read the full TODAY article below!

Before Diane Shaw met her daughter, Breanna, she wasn’t sure she was ready to foster a teen.

Having become empty nesters after raising four children of their own, Diane and her husband knew they faced “a major life change” in welcoming Breanna and her brother into their home.

“I was so nervous… to have two teens in the house I didn’t know,” Diane recalled.

But on Breanna’s first visit, any anxieties Diane had about fostering simply melted away.

“I couldn’t stop smiling, and whenever [Breanna and her brother] turned their backs, I’d mouth to my husband that I loved them,” Diane said.

Diane and her husband, Fred, adopted 17 year-old Breanna in May, four years after that first encounter.

“It was the best day of my life,” said Breanna of her Adoption Day. “I have a family all my own… and I know they’re not going to ever give up on me.”

The Shaws celebrated their special day in the courtroom with a photo inspired by Together We Rise, a foster care advocacy group that shares Adoption Day photos (also known as “gotcha day” photos) to increase awareness of adopting through foster care.

With more than 100,000 children in foster care still waiting for permanent homes, an adoption such as Breanna’s is more than just a family milestone. It’s a sign that attitudes about adopting from foster care are starting to shift.

Americans now have a more favorable opinion of foster care adoption than of international adoption or private infant adoption, according to a 2013 study by the Dave Thomas Foundation for Adoption.

However, more than half of Americans still wrongly believe that children in the foster care system are juvenile delinquents, the study also revealed. In fact, children enter foster care because of abuse, neglect and/or abandonment at the hands of their biological family.

Between their unfair reputation for being “bad kids” and the misconceptions many families have about adoption in general, many foster care children are still struggling to find forever homes.

Here are six of the most pervasive myths about adopting from foster care, deconstructed by adoptive families and experts alike:

1. You’ll end up fostering/adopting more than one child

There’s a fear that if you become involved with the foster care system, “they’re going to twist your arm and you’ll come home with a carful of kids,” explained Rita Soronen, CEO and President of the Dave Thomas Foundation for Adoption.In reality, Soronen said, “[foster care] agencies for the most part err on the side of caution.” Agencies don’t want to overwhelm new foster parents, or place children in homes where they won’t get the attention they need.

“You have the power over your family… you say yes or no,” said Kristina Wilmoth, an active foster parent. She and her husband, Josh, adopted their son Jasper after having two biological children of their own.

2. All foster care kids have medical or behavioral needs that make them difficult to parent

Only one-third of the children in foster care have any kind of diagnosable disability, according to a report from United Cerebral Palsy and Children’s Rights.

Many other children are classified by the state as having “special needs,” but not for the reasons you might think. The term simply refers to a condition that makes the child harder to find a home, such as being older or part of a sibling group.

“That doesn’t mean that [these children] are any more difficult to parent,” said Soronen. “They’ve just had a rough start in life, and they need a family.”

Breanna Shaw, for example, “fell under the category of special needs, even though there was nothing mentally or physically that she needed help with,” explained her adoptive mother, Diane.

On the contrary: Bre is “a huge reader and a great speaker” and is doing well in school, said Diane.

Even when a child’s “special needs” are impossible to predict, families don’t have to give up hope of a happy ending.

Caring for their soon-to-be son, Waylon, during his four months in the NICU, Dan and Lindsey Jenkins weren’t sure if he would have cognitive deficits or other health problems as a result of being premature. In the end, Lindsey said, it didn’t matter.

“We didn’t care… we just grew to love him,” Lindsey Jenkins explained.

As it turns out, “he’s actually proven to be mostly healthy and physically sound,” said Dan. “We call [Waylon] our little miracle baby.”

3. There’s a higher cost than adopting from overseas

“People believe that because it’s expensive to adopt internationally or to adopt through a private agency…it’s also expensive to adopt from foster care. It’s not,” Soronen explained.”It costs virtually nothing.”

In fact, the average cost of adopting from foster care is less than $2,500, and up to $2,000 may be covered by the state. Families may also receive monthly maintenance payments and financial aid for their child’s college education.

“We were under no financial burden at any time,” said Dan Jenkins of his son Waylon’s adoption. But even “if it cost a million dollars to have the little boy we have now, we would have done it.”

4. It’s not worth the risk of having to say goodbye

As with any form of adoption — or really, any method of becoming a parent — there are no guarantees. But some worry that the emotional toll of adopting from foster care is too high, as they may lose their child to a biological relative months or years into the adoption process.

Adoptive parents say the wait was tough — but entirely worth it.

“Sometimes I felt like I would keep my heart guarded, just in case,” said Kristina Wilmoth, remembering the time before she and her husband were granted custody of their son Jasper. But “once they get adopted, it’s like you gave birth to them.”

Plus, fostering a child is “so important, and you do get so many rewards out of it,” said Lindsey Wery, adoptive mom to 4 year-old Annie. “I wasn’t a parent before, and now I am.”

“I look back and wonder what I was so worried about,” added Dan Jenkins. “[Our] little boy has benefited our lives in more ways than we can put into words. The reward far outweighs the risk.”

5. You have to build a relationship with the birth parents and/or relatives

“No adoptive family is required to have a relationship with the biological family,” said Soronen. “Once you’re an adoptive family, you make the legal decisions for [your] child.”

Soronen recommends staying touch with the birth family only “if it’s safe and if it’s appropriate,” as every situation is different.

Dan and Lindsey Jenkins, parents to 2-year-old Waylon, are in contact with a few of their son’s relatives, as well as his biological brother.

“As he gets older and wants to know them, he deserves to,” said Lindsey.

Josh and Kristina Wilmoth feel similarly. But when interacting with their son Jasper’s biological parents, they’ve tried to establish certain boundaries.

We’re “very clear that [Jasper] is my child… [and] that my husband is ‘Dad,'” explained Kristina.

Breanna Shaw, meanwhile, is only in touch with her siblings. As for the rest of her biological family, she said, “I prefer not to talk to them.”

“I feel like I have a family here,” Breanna added. “I just prefer to move forward.”

6. If you adopt an older child instead of an infant, they’ll never feel like “yours”

“That’s just so wrong,” said Soronen. “There’s just no reason to think that adopting an older youth — whether they’re nine or 16 — isn’t worth the effort.”

Breanna Shaw remembers how anxious the idea of being adopted made her at first, after a nearly lifetime of moving between different homes.

“Rationally, I knew they loved me… But there’s always that small voice that says, ‘Are they going to love me enough?'” said Breanna.

Meanwhile, Breanna’s adoptive parents, Diane and Fred Shaw, were concerned about being able to provide adequate support.

We wondered, “‘Are we going to be enough for her? Are we going to be enough to help her heal?'” Diane recalled.

But these days, Breanna told TODAY, she feels completely at home.

“It takes a lot of being vulnerable [to be adopted], but it’s worth it,” Breanna said. “It’s the best feeling in the world, being loved.”

Back Hands Flowers — The sisters hold hands at a neighborhood park.

From a young age, adoptive mother Shelley grasped a concept that some seem to struggle with—foster kids are just “normal” children.

When she was a little girl, her neighbor was a foster mother, so she frequently befriended the foster children and helped outwith the babies. Years later, Shelley remembered those experiences as she considered becoming a mother through adoption.

“I knew there were so many kids out there… good kids, in need of homes,” Shelley said.

With that in mind, Shelley and her husband decided that they would be a perfect fit to adopt a sibling group. After completing their training as foster-to-adopt parents, Shelley and her husband were eventually selected for 3 and 4-year-old sisters.

The day they met Emma and Anna at a neighborhood park, the family instantly clicked. The girls had been with an Arrow foster family prior to Shelley, and the foster parents, along with a counselor, had prepared them to meet their adoptive family. The oldest, Emma*, talked about wanting to come to Shelley’s house, and how she wanted her own mommy and daddy. She also insisted that she wanted a “princess family,” so as Shelley prepared Emma’s Life Book (a special scrap book for foster children), she wrote it as a fairy tale.

“It was just amazing,” Shelley said. “It was unreal. They were so perfect and ready.”

That’s not to say there weren’t obstacles.

Anna was a bit more scared and hesitant than her outgoing sister. However, Emma helped Anna with the transition and frequently reassured her. Additionally, Anna’s speech was delayed, so at first, she would grow frustrated when Shelley couldn’t understand her.

Now, her speech is on track, and she’s slowly coming out of her shell. Unlike her princess-obsessed sibling, Anna loves super heroes and especially Spider Man.

“To watch her personality grow has been one of the best things,” Shelley said. “She is so sweet, and so funny.”

Also, Emma has had to learn to accept boundaries. Before entering foster care, the girls were neglected, so Emma felt she was in charge. She also felt she had to stash food to reassure herself she and Anna would have something to eat.

Her Arrow foster family, counselors and adoptive family worked with Emma to make her feel safe, and now those things are no longer an issue.

It has been about two years since the family adopted the girls, and they are doing incredibly well. They’re smart, funny and well-adjusted, and Shelley feels lucky to have them in her life.

“Our case was a fairy tale,” she said.

*The girls’s names were changed to protect their privacy at the request of their family.

Trautner fam — Christina and Laura Trautner talk about how their relationship has grown since Laura first became part of the family.

Our friends at Campus Crusade for Christ, or Cru, recently wrote this awesome story about one of Arrow’s kids! Christina entered foster care at 10, and was adopted by an Arrow family, the Trautners, at age 12. Since then, the Trautner’s have helped Christina heal and brought her out of her shell. Now a confident high school student, Christina is leading Bible studies with her cross country team at Kingwood Park High School. We are so proud of her! Below is the article Ross McCall wrote about Christina and her family, in which they give some very good advice to foster families. To find out how you can make a difference in the life of a child, like the Trautner’s did for Christina, visit www. www.arrow.org/foster.

Christina Trautner was 10 years old when a woman from Child Protection Services arrived at her door. “You have to leave your family because we are taking you to live with another family,” she said. “You have one hour to gather what you most want to take with you.”

Choosing some clothes and her favorite soft toys, Christina had just enough to fill a bucket. Clutching her favorite toy tight to her chest, she climbed into the CPS worker’s car and sat, silently, as she was driven to a family who had chosen to foster her. The CPS worker asked her questions as they drove, but Christina refused to break her silence, afraid of the future.

“When she arrived she just looked small in every sense,” says Laura Trautner, the woman Christina would eventually dare to call Mom. “We had told the CPS that we thought we were best suited to fostering a child who needed to be brought out, helped to flourish, rather than one that needed reigning in.”

Over the past six years Laura, a staff member with Cru, and her husband John, who teaches at his daughter’s high school, have patiently created a home for Christina – a safe place where she’d have the opportunities her birth home would never afford her.

The specific things they emphasized can help any child step into their calling.

Unconditional acceptance
Christina’s background is a painful story, but she has reached a point where she can talk about her past openly because she never felt judged by the family God eventually chose for her.

Be present
Christina’s early life was characterized by parental neglect. She says she spent most of her time at home watching television with her younger brother. Having an adopted family who wanted to spend meaningful time with her, and lots of it, helped her to begin feeling precious to them.

Provide clear boundaries
Laura Trautner says that providing clear boundaries for Christina from the beginning provided her with security and begin to navigate a future that initially created inevitable anxiety for her.

Create plentiful opportunities
Christina says, “When I came to live with the Trautners, I was closed off. Mom encouraged me and gave me support to try new things. I had never had the opportunity to try out for a sport. She told me about the benefits of trying out for the swim team, something she had done herself.”

Trust, trust, trust
“There’s nothing my mom and I can’t talk about,” says Christina. She strives to show her parents they can trust her with schoolwork, and with all the normal decisions a high school girl faces each day. This trustworthiness was rooted in the confidence her parents placed in her first.

At age 12, Christina stood in a courtroom before a judge who asked her, “Do you choose this family to be your family from here on?”

“I do,” Christina replied. Laura remembers the moment vividly, describing it as feeling like a marriage.

“My mom wanted to choose something to place on a charm bracelet to signify their adoption of me,” says Christina. “Then we found a jigsaw piece that fit perfectly. Mom told me that our family had been incomplete without me, I was the missing piece in the puzzle.”

Flourishing in God’s call

A year ago, Laura and Christina decided joined a group of Cru staff and high school students from Houston on a spring break trip to Hungary.

As they befriended Budapest high schoolers, Christina remembers meeting girls she describes as, “model-like.” “But I would ask them, ‘Is there anything you would like to change about yourself,’ and they would reply ‘everything.’”

Christina wanted to help those girls recognize how treasured they were by God, but knew she needed to first believe that more deeply about herself.

Christina brought the lessons of the Hungary trip home to Kingwood Park High School outside Houston, where her mom works for Cru’s high school ministry. She brought the change in her own life into a place where she sees girls sitting alone in the cafeteria or walking in the athletics corridor, painfully self-conscious.

“I was never comfortable in the Athletics Corridor, then I felt God telling me to join the cross-country team, that he was going to use me there,” says Christina. Her adopted father John is a keen runner. Christina recently led her first Bible study with her cross-country teammates. She was nervous, but knows she’s become a safe place for other students.

Ana Acosta is one of Christina’s closest friends. “I think a lot of people inside the school try to fit in. They don’t act like themselves at school,” says Ana. “Christina’s the same inside or outside school. She doesn’t really care what people say or think about her, and that’s helped me throughout my high school years.”

Her experiences have created a passion in Christina to eventually work with kids in foster care. She says her Mom gets emotional thinking about how amazing it is that she wants to help people who are where she was, rather than never going back there.

Kingwood Park High School is changing along with a student and a family God labeled ‘chosen.’

Arrow mom’s Facebook post goes viral

Arrow adoptive mom Charity Robinson and her son Lincoln appeared on Fox and Friends after a photo of Lincoln making a new friend touched the hearts of tens of thousands of people on social media!

Charity snapped the photo of Lincoln playing with Jason Taylor, a local pastor who was sitting near the family at the rodeo, and shared it on her Facebook page with this message:

Dear stranger next to us at the rodeo,
When my son came up to you and grabbed your arm, you didn’t know he used to be terrified of people. When he talked to you about the bulls, you didn’t know he was diagnosed with a language disorder. When he jumped in your lap and laughed as you tickled him, you didn’t know he had a sensory processing disorder. You also didn’t know as his mother, I sat in my seat, with tears running down my face, sneaking this photo. When we adopted him a few short months ago, we didn’t know how long it would take for him to laugh, play and engage others like this. You didn’t know any of this, but you took time to connect with a child who has had to fight to learn to connect. My heart is full. Thank you.

The Robinsons are such a special family, and we are so proud of the progress Lincoln has made!

On a recent sunny afternoon outside the home of Arrow CEO Scott Lundy, 16-year-old Dylan Lundy playfully tackled his younger brother, Joey, to let their younger sister Jessie “score” by dribbling a basketball past them.

The way they laughed and teased each other, they looked like a typical group of siblings. You might not guess they’re not related by birth.

Dylan, 11-year-old Joey and 10-year-old Jessie were all adopted by Scott and his wife Stacy. Their adoption journey has led the Lundy family to be incredibly close. Because of their common adoption experience, the Lundy children have a deep connection that is seen in their devotion to one another.

“We were all brought together,” Dylan said. “We were all sent as gifts from God, because that was his plan all along.”

That isn’t to say there haven’t been struggles for both the kids and Scott and Stacy—one of the best examples being the very first day Dylan became part of the family.

He had just been born when Scott and Stacy got a call from the placement agency asking if they wanted to meet him in just one hour.

“The caseworker placed him in my arms, and I looked down at him and I just started crying,” Stacy said. “We instantly knew he was supposed to be ours…. and we had nothing, not even a car seat to take him home in. We had to leave him there with the caseworker while we ran to Target.”

They rushed to Target and told the store associates they were about to pick up a baby and needed a crib, clothes, diapers—the works. The Target employees helped them fill their cart with all the essentials, and as the Lundys left the store, they received a round of applause.

One struggle for Joey has been getting teased about being adopted, but he has a good comeback for bullies.

“I just say to them ‘At least my parents got to choose me!”

But the biggest challenge for Joey and Jessie has been not knowing their birth parents. Both are very anxious to search for them, when they get a bit older.

“One negative is you don’t know where they are, or even who they are,” Jessie said. “But the positive side is you have a family that can care for you, and love you and raise you.”

Scott said adoptive children wondering about their birth parents is natural, and not something to be afraid of.

“Don’t squelch that need,” Scott said. “Don’t avoid it. It’s a very real need, and something to be out in the open with.”

Dylan’s situation is different. The Lundys have a relationship with his birth mother, and see her and her children every Christmas. The kids love playing together, and Dylan is thankful to know them.

“I like being part of their lives,” he said. “They love my mom and dad. They know I’m with a good family, and I think it’s good to remember who started my life.”

For foster and adoptive parents hesitant to have a relationship with their child’s birth parents, Stacy said to not be afraid to reach out, because it can be beneficial for everyone.

“It’s not a fearful thing,” Stacy said. “Knowing what they gave you, you feel connected to them.”

All of these experiences have affected how Scott performs his role as CEO of Arrow. He said being an adoptive parent himself gives him insight as to how his decisions will impact our families.

“I can draw on our own experiences with regards to training, advocacy with licensing, legislation, etc.,” Scott said. “I always think how will this action affect our families and how will it affect our kids.”

Like many Arrow families, the Lundys see the weaving together of their adoption struggles and triumphs as something beautiful. It started with the tremendous pain of not being able to conceive, but now has blossomed into the ultimate blessing.

“This is the story God wrote for our family,” Stacy said. “It’s a gift to live it, to share it, to see what a blessing it’s been.”

In this post, blogger Lauren Casper shares with us the story of a day at Trader Joe’s when she was struggling to get her adoptive children to behave. She was incredibly frustrated and near tears when a Trader Joe’s employee reminded her what being an adoptive parent is all about– giving love and hope to children.

I was tired, hurried, frustrated, and ready to just go home. John was pushing Mareto in the cart just as fast as he could to leave the store before the melt down got worse. We were frantically trying to open up a cereal bar in an effort to stem the tears. Arsema was strapped to my chest in the ergo carrier watching it all through wide eyes. Sweat beads were forming on my forehead, caused in part by my embarrassment, but mostly from the heat and amount of energy I was exerting by running through Trader Joe’s with my 18 pound baby strapped to my chest and my toddler year old screaming behind me.

I sure didn’t feel like I was going to be in the running for any mom of the year awards. I felt like a hot mess. In fact, I was sincerely hoping that no one was looking at us too closely… that somehow we were invisible to the people bustling around us. It was chaotic, exhausting, and an unfortunately all too common experience for us.

Our family doesn’t exactly blend in with the wall paper. Not only are we two white parents with a brown son and daughter (something that causes enough stares and questions all by itself), but our son has noticeable developmental delays and different behaviors caused by his autism, and our daughter has physical differences with her missing and webbed digits. In other words, when we all go out together we stand out. Usually I don’t mind, and often I love it. My children are beautiful and so is our story.

Sometimes though, on the days when we are very far from having it together, I do mind. Those days I just want to blend in with the crowd and hide far away from the curious stares. Some days I get tired of it all and just want to be a family. Not the adoptive family. Not the family with special needs children. Not the unique family… just a family. This was one of those days.

I was close to tears myself as John took Mareto to put the cart away. I rushed through the doors with Arsema on my chest to get to the car as quickly as possible when a voice behind me slowed my steps.

“Ma’am!!” She called out. I slowed, hoping and praying she wasn’t talking to me.

“Ma’am!” I stopped and turned to find a young woman rushing toward me. A bright smile covered her face and I immediately noticed her beautiful black curls, just like the black curls snuggled on my chest, tickling my chin. Recognizing her shirt, I realized that she worked there and assumed I must have dropped something. I looked at her, holding back my tears, waiting.

“I just wanted you to have this bouquet…” and I looked down to see the flowers in her hands. She quickly continued to explain…

“I was adopted as a baby and it has been a wonderful thing. We need more families like yours.” I stared at her, stunned. Hadn’t she seen what a disaster we were in the store? Didn’t she see that we were barely able to keep it together? Didn’t she see what I felt were all my failures as a mom?

As she handed me the flowers I managed to choke out a thank you and tried to express that this meant the world to me. She patted my shoulder, told me my family was beautiful, and walked back into the store.

My steps were much slower as I finally headed to the car with my arms full of flowers and tears that had spilled over onto my cheeks. On a day when I felt like we were the worst example of family… a day when I hoped no one noticed us… she did. But she didn’t see what I assumed everyone was seeing. She didn’t think what I assumed everyone was thinking. She saw beauty and love and hope and family. She thought we were wonderful and it made her smile.

I wish I had thought to get her name. I wish I could go back and tell her, two years later, what her gift continues to mean to me today. To the beautiful young woman in the parking lot of Trader Joe’s … thank you from the bottom of my heart. You are a treasure.

You can read more of Lauren’s writing at www.laurencasper.com

One of our families found their missing “Linc!”

Two-year-old Lincoln, also known as “Linc”, was adopted last week by Charity and Brenton Robinson near Tyler, just a week after the toddler’s birthday. To celebrate, the Robinsons held a combination birthday and adoption day party last Saturday.

The Robinsons are ecstatic to finally, officially call Lincoln a part of their family!

Lincoln came to live with the Robinsons with special medical needs and developmental delays. He only knew three words—“ball,” “bye” and “shoe,” and he always clenched his hands, which hindered him from developing fine motor skills. Even standing was difficult. In his first physical therapy session, Lincoln fell down more than 40 times.

He had some emotional problems as well. Lincoln was scared to do things like dry his hair with a towel, or pet the family’s dogs. He had trouble communicating verbally, which caused him to become frustrated and lash out.

But that didn’t stop the Robinsons from opening their hearts to him. Children with special needs wait longer on average to be adopted, if they’re adopted at all, because only a small portion of foster parents are willing to take them in. However, the Robinsons believed they could make a difference in Lincoln’s life.

They were right.

Since Lincoln was placed with the Robinsons, he’s totally transformed. Lincoln has overcome his physical and speech problems through six months of therapy three times a week. Now, he’s down to one session a week with an occupational therapist.

He’s grown from a timid child to an affectionate, sociable 2 year old who loves to hug and snuggle. When he’s growing frustrated, Lincoln knows to put himself in “time out” and cool down.

Next week, Lincoln starts T-ball. It’s hard for Charity to recognize her active son as the same little boy who had trouble standing just a few short months ago.

“The most rewarding thing about adopting is seeing the difference in your child over time,” Charity said. “It’s seeing your child starting to love you over time, and blossom into a child he was destined to be, and having your child look into your eyes with such life and love compared to when he was first placed.”

Charity urged foster parents to be open to caring for children with special medical diagnoses.

“Don’t let your head be your guide, but your heart” Charity said. “What God blesses you with may be different than what you had in mind. Do not be caught up on the child’s diagnosis on paper. They can overcome their obstacles if you love them and help them to succeed.”

Go to www.arrow.org/foster to learn more about how you can adopt a child from foster care.

For Tammie and Charles Cobb, adopting a child from foster care was about patience and trusting God.

The Cobbs became foster parents shortly after a chance interaction with another Arrow family more than 10 years ago. A man and his adoptive son had come into their business, and they got to talking about fostering-to-adopt. Before he left the store, he set Tammie up on a phone call with an Arrow Ambassador Family Specialist, and before they knew it, the Cobbs were training to be foster parents.

The Cobbs could not have children of their own, and intended to adopt. They fostered about 40 children over three years, waiting patiently for the child that would become theirs forever. Tammie said it was incredibly hard to say goodbye to so many children when they left her home to reunite with their birth families. She was just about at her emotional breaking point.

“I told my husband, ‘I can’t take it anymore,’ but we sat back and waited, and of course God’s timing is always perfect,” Tammie said.

It was shortly after that the Cobbs got a call to come pick up their soon to-be-daughter Haylea from the hospital.

“When I went to pick up that baby from the hospital, the doctors and nurses walked me down the hall, and I just had the biggest smile on my face,” Tammie said. “The Holy Spirit was with me. I thought ‘Oh my gosh, all my dreams are coming true!’ We had a feeling in us about what the Lord was about to do. It was the biggest blessing. “

Tammie’s feeling was right on target. It wasn’t long before Haylea’s birth parents’ rights were terminated, and the Cobbs were able to officially adopt the baby girl.

Now, Haylea is an energetic 8 year old with many friends. She loves to ride her bike, go swimming, and she works hard at school. When Tammie first became a foster parent, she didn’t expect to adopt a child outside her own race, but she wouldn’t change anything about Haylea for the world.

“We came in with expectations of a brown-headed girl with blue eyes,” Tammie said. “I want families to open up their minds and their hearts to a different race, because we’re all God’s children, and we all need to know we belong somewhere, and more than anything, children need to know that they belong to God no matter where they are.”

While she’s glad she got to touch so many lives through fostering, Tammie is happy she was finally able to adopt one of her foster children. For parents worried about growing too attached to foster children who may eventually return to live with birth relatives, Tammie said to think first about the heartache foster children are enduring.

“Embrace what they’re going through,” Tammie said. “A lot of kids I had– some came to me broken and abused or burned, and you have to be a strong person mentally. I would say to (potential foster parents) to be prayerful and allow God to direct their path in the direction He wants them to go in.”

Learn more about fostering-to-adopt at www.arrow.org/foster

Blogger Liz Curtis Faria, a former social worker, graciously allowed us to repost her blog entry about a troubled foster child, desperately reaching out for someone to love him. Unfortunately, his story is not unique. Thousands of children in the foster care system are waiting to be adopted right now, and are at risk of meeting the same fate as him. The boy in the story was never adopted, and we can’t help but wonder how much differently his life could have turned out if a family would have taken a chance on him.

It was something about the phrasing that got to me. Something about the cadence of his words, the staccato of his speech.

“Nobody loves me. Not even my mother who gave birth to me.”

It is an odd turn of phrase, isn’t it?

Not even my mother who gave birth to me.

He was buckled into the backseat of my Toyota, still too little to sit up front. At seven he had already moved more times than the total number of years he had been on the earth. And this time, like the times before it, he moved with his belongings in a trash bag. A suitcase, at least, would have added a small degree of dignity to the whole affair – to being “placed” in another and another and yet another foster home before reaching the 3rd grade. Trash bags break, you know. Trash bags can’t possibly support the contents of any life, and certainly not a life as fragile as this.

They break from the strain, eventually.

This move was harder for Stephen than most. It was a home he thought he would stay in, at least for awhile. He had felt affection there. When I went to pick him up, after his foster mother gave notice that he could no longer stay, he came easily with me; head down, no reaction on the surface of it. It was only when he got into my car that he began to sob the kind of aching sound that leaves you limp in its wake.

He could barely get out the words. Nobody loves me. Not even my mother who gave birth to me.

Months later, in a repeat scene (another foster mother, another removal), he would put up a fight. He would run around the living room, ducking behind furniture, refusing to leave. But on this night he had no fight in him.

That was Stephen at seven.

Nine-year old Stephen grips his report card in sweaty hands. We’re headed to an adoption event, where we will meet families who want to adopt an older child; families who do not automatically rule out a boy like Stephen with all of his long “history.” And he wants to impress them, these strangers. He wants to win them over, and so he brings his good report card along as tangible proof that he is a child worth loving.

A child should never have to prove they are worth loving.

Twelve-year old Stephen tells me that I’m his best friend. I’m his social worker, and he should have a real best friend, but I don’t say this to him. We’re at a taping for Wednesday’s Child, the news spot featuring children who are up for adoption. Stephen is engaging on camera. Maybe somebody will pick him this time. Maybe he is offering just enough evidence, at twelve, that he’s a boy worth loving. And he is lovable, truly. But it is not enough. A family never comes.

Years later, long after I’ve left the agency, I get an email from my old boss asking how I’m doing, and ending with a short P.S. “Stephen is in DYS lockup after running away from his foster home. You need to adopt him.” My stomach drops. I’ve had this thought many times. I should adopt him myself. But I don’t.

I heard about his murder from a friend who had seen it in the news. Shot outside a party over some foolish dispute. Dead at 18, dead just as he became a man. Not my Stephen, I prayed. When I realized that it was really him – that it could be no other – I sobbed gripped by the kind of anguish that leaves you limp in its wake.

What have we all done? What haven’t we all done.

The newspapers ran very little about the murder, as if it were an afterthought. Barely worth a mention, really. Anonymous strangers posted nasty comments online: “Just another gangbanger,” they said. You don’t even know him. You don’t know the first thing about this boy. You don’t know that as a child he would trace letters into my back with his finger to pass time at the doctor’s office, asking me to guess what phrase he was spelling out. “I ♥ U” he traced between my shoulders, the last time we played this game.

Stephen had been wrong, that night in my Toyota. His mother did love him, in her way. She was there, at the funeral. She greeted me kindly. I think she knew I loved Stephen as I knew she did. We both failed him in the end, and that joined us I suppose. Neither of us could give him a family.

There were no photos from Stephen’s childhood at the funeral home. No images of the green-eyed boy with the sweet smile to remind us of what had been lost. There were no pictures of Stephen with his brothers, and so I printed up snapshots of the four boys together, taken on a supervised visit, and brought them to the funeral to give to the family. It was something I could do, against the larger backdrop of nothing I could do.

There were very few social workers at the funeral, and none of Stephen’s many foster mothers. Were they even told he was dead? Stephen spent more of his life being raised in the system than out of it. If you claim legal responsibility for a child, you best show up at his funeral. You should show up when he dies. He was yours, in a way, wasn’t he? You owe it to him. And if he did not belong to you, then who did he ever belong to?

His mother was there, at least. His mother who gave birth to him. I hear the echo of his voice from those many years ago.

Somebody does love you Stephen. I want to tell him. But it’s too late.

Stephen was the one, for me. The one who embodied all the failures of a system so broken that to heal it would take far more than the casts that heal the literal broken bones of the children growing up within it.

They break, you know. These kids we leave behind. Eventually they break.

You can learn more about fostering and adopting through Arrow at https://www.arrow.org/foster.

You can find Liz’s blog at www.amothershipdown.com and her Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/amothershipdown.

*Stephen is a fictional name for a real boy the world lost.

In the beautifully written sentiments below, written by Arrow adoptive mom Jennie Sulfridge, she contemplates the struggles of adopting her three children, as well as the immense amount of joy they have brought into her life. As they sleep peacefully, she writes about a fourth daughter who will soon become part of their family. It’s clear Jennie has a huge heart, and we’re so grateful she chose to adopt through Arrow.

It’s late. I should be in bed. I always end up turning in later than I had planned. There’s just a lot to do in a day around here. We sometimes struggle to keep up. Most days we succeed. Some days, not so much. We try again tomorrow.

But tonight they sleep. All three of them. I’ll check on them one more time before turning in. I’ll straighten blankets and pick pillows off the floor. I’ll kiss foreheads and pet the cat that sleeps at the foot of one of their beds. They love that cat.

And it will all look so ordinary. But it’s not. It’s so much more than that.

These three that I tuck in each night are sisters, not by birth, but by adoption. It was a long road, a rocky one. I wasn’t very good at navigating it, but that’s okay because I didn’t have to walk it alone. The folks at Arrow were our biggest cheerleaders. They believed in us when we didn’t believe in ourselves. They knew how great it would be before we did and they play a part in this nightly ritual I stumble through. They play a big part.

You see as I walk out of their room tonight I’ll pause at a fourth bed, an empty bed. One that will soon be filled by another little Arrow girl. I’ll look at that bed in the dark and dream about the day I’ll straighten her blankets and kiss her forehead. It’s all ready for her with a new mattress and pillows, a quilt made by me, a blanket and special pillowcases made by her sisters. We’ve had fun preparing that bed for her.

And in the quiet of that dark room I pray for her little heart and I wonder what she will be like. I wonder what kind of spark she will add to our family. I wonder.

It won’t be easy, the beginning never is, but it will be worth it. She will be worth it. I won’t do it perfectly this fourth time around. I guarantee I will fall and get up just to fall again. There will be apologies, probably lots of them.

As I walk out of that room each night I can’t imagine life without them. They fill me up to overflowing every single day. I’m so very blessed.

Our adoption journey did not look like I thought it would. It was messy and hard and most days we barely made it through. But we made it. Together. That’s what counts.

This adoption thing isn’t always pretty, but it’s always beautiful.

Thankful for those beautiful daughters of mine. And thankful for Arrow too.

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