Diaries From Honduras: 2020

Fresa Girl -

It seemed wrong to open my heart and love her as much as I did. The day she woke up and began calling me Mami Becca wrecked me; not because I didn’t want her to, but because I knew her mami wanted to be there for her. Fresa’s story wasn’t like the others, she wasn’t waiting for child services to find someone who would be willing to care for her - because that wasn’t the problem - the problem was that she had so many people who loved her that no one could agree who would get the privilege.

We first met Fresa while helping out in the Centro de Paso (Emergency Crisis Care). Let me tell you - she stole our hearts over and over. She was always so matter of fact and very grown-up. If I was ever to show up without Colin, she was sure to express her displeasure but she was always sweet enough to follow up with, “at least you are here tia Becca.” You could tell that she missed her family, but you could also see that she was used to fending for herself and being in charge. She was always so very curious about our family dynamic. The night that Sassy came to live with us, she looked at me and said, “You know, maybe I could come live with you and Tio Colin too?” ***Insert my shattered heart here.** I smiled sweetly at her and said, “I can’t make the decisions on where you go, but you are very loved wherever you are.” Then, I gave her a huge hug and reminded her that we would be back to visit. (Not knowing that she would be headed our direction, much sooner than we would have the chance to come back hers).

The day she arrived, she came in and unpacked her things in a just-so way. She lined her shoes up under her bed and did her best to align her clothes in an orderly fashion. (Colin was in the process of making her a little closet, but wasn’t quite done yet). From then on, she just hopped right in and didn’t skip a beat. (although, it took her a while to get used to the dog. Mostly because she thought he was gross and ugly. Her pitbull at home was “much cuter’). I could tell in seconds that she had really missed the love and affection of a family. She always wanted to be near to us and constantly would check in as she played. If we were sitting, she was sitting. If we were in the kitchen, she was in the kitchen. If we were watching tv, she was snuggled right in there next to us. This trend continued throughout her five months with us.

I remember the day she found the book that I had written "Little Lovey: Coming Home". It is a simple poem explaining the love and anticipation of waiting to become a foster parent. She could not believe that I was the author and that the pictures illustrated photos of us. Her disbelief wasn’t even the sweetest part. When we turned to the last page and read through the words together, she looked up at me and said, “Hey, this is like us right? You were ready for us and when it’s time to go, you will hold us in your hearts forever.” I could not believe how she had just put it together and understood that no matter where she goes, there will always be love for her here.

Don’t get me wrong because this little Fresa TESTED her boundaries. I sometimes wonder if that was her favorite game to play, how far can I go today? She would push us right to the edge of insanity and to the tippy top of our Spanish level; right before coming back down to her sweet six-year-old self, who was just looking to make sure she had a place and was loved. As soon as she knew her day had come, she kept saying that we would hold her in our hearts and she would hold us in hers - and man was she right. She undeniably impacted our lives forever. It seemed wrong to love her, but with the same token, it seemed wrong to let her go. Such is the life of foster care.

“It might be temporary, but the impact lasts a lifetime”. -Foster Care Truths

No comments

Here is my tear-soaked, snot-filled update: If you read one of my previous posts, you’ll remember that I said our house was bursting at the seams and so was our laundry basket. I knew a day would come where our laundry basket would be empty and our hearts would be shattered. Well, that day has come and I wish I could say that our basket was 100% empty, (but ain’t nobody got time for that) This week was draining, to say the least. We were given whiplash with the decisions regarding Sassy and Baby Linda’s reintegration, but glory-hallelujah they are going home to be with family who was not connected with their previous traumas.

How do you prepare yourself for that, you ask? You don’t. There is no pep-talk in the world strong enough to keep yourself from the giant gaping hole that will be left in your heart. No tools from any training will ever be wise enough or be accessible in your brain when you’re holding a trembling 4-year-old with tears streaming down her face, whimpering that she doesn't want to go and that she wants to stay here in this house. Forget about it. Watching her grip her foster daddy and then her foster sister for five straight minutes, choking out the words that she loves them and will miss them forever. Stumbling over to me with a trembling lip, sobbing and burying her face deep down into my shirt, using it as a tissue for the boogies running down her face. Then, handing over the tiny pudgy hands that you helped to heal. Watching them both walk out the front door, never to return. NOTHING WILL PREPARE YOU.

But, there is hope in the restoration - for all parties involved. Because another thing that you will NEVER be prepared for is watching God work through you in the lives of His children - witnessing their healing, instilling in them that they are forever loved by us and their heavenly father and seeing them actually believe that.. this alone will change the trajectory of their lives. IN-FREAKING-CREDIBLE.

We will never get to reap the seeds we have sown in their lives, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t going to be sprouting up like little daisies. God is using this heartbreak as an opportunity - to strengthen our hope in Him and equip us with the strength to carry on into this difficult calling that He has given us. And if this is what it takes, we will accept our hearts being broken one-thousand times over for the sake of these little lives, who finally get to find hope and healing in Jesus.

No comments

(In centro)

I first met baby Linda during a shift coverage in our Centro (emergency crisis care). I could tell right away that not only was she significantly delayed, but that her attachment style was disorganized. She wasn’t fussy often, but when she was - she would pull you in and push you away and repeat this process until she was simply too tired to carry on, eventually passing out in your arms. At eight months old, she couldn’t support the weight of her own head and she certainly wasn’t able to sit, roll, or crawl either. Later on, I came to learn that her poor frail body could only accept eight ounces of formula a day before rejecting it, causing her to vomit.

We were placed with baby Linda by chance. After two weeks of care in our Centro, she spiked a fever that could not be controlled. Our directors were out of town and needed Colin and I to drive our staff and little Linda to the emergency room to have blood work drawn. We were able to head home as soon as that was done (this was at the very beginning of COVID-19 and we were advised, not to stick around the hospital). While we were en route, our director called and asked if we would be willing to take Linda home to monitor her for the next 48 hours. We did not hesitate to say, yes. We were over the moon to be helping her heal. How could we not be?

After flushing her with fluids, (which was pretty difficult, since she was hardly able to withstand what is considered significantly below the normal intake) she found her way out of the 105-degree fever. That was the first step in a long road of healing.

(one week with us)

Within a week, we were able to get this little girl up to 32 ounces of formula a day! You could see her body thriving and ready to take on overcoming her delays. The muscles in her neck strengthened rather quickly and we could see her personality blossoming. Colin said to me, hey what’s going on? Why isn’t she so snuggly and calm anymore? I looked at him half bursting with pride and half full of brokenness and said, it’s because she is healing in every area of her life. Look at her - she now has the strength to look around, so she wants to and she now knows she has a voice, so she’s using it.

A month later and she had already mastered sitting unassisted AND crawling. But, just like in her sister, what I could see was far more than just physical healing, she was healing emotionally. She had developed a secure attachment. She knew if she cried, we were coming. She knew if she needed something, we would provide it. She knew if we left, we came back. She knew - she was loved.

(3 weeks with us)

(7 weeks with us)

(10 weeks with us)

We have gone through a rollercoaster with our upcoming reintegration both in plan and in emotion. I sit here trying to find the words to explain and understand how she and her sister could in fact be potentially returning to the home that had left them so hurt and broken. How could a system not recognize the trauma that a neglected child endures? How can we help these children find healing and then send them right back to the people who said, you don’t have a voice because you don’t exist, leaving them to believe that they don’t matter? I find myself repeating over and over to them, hoping and praying that no matter the outcome that they have instilled deep within their soul that they DO have a voice and they DO matter to me, to their papi, and most importantly to their Lord and savior.

I am back where I started, knowing that this world is full of brokenness and sin, begging for these girls to be spared. LORD, if where they came from is still no longer safe. PLEASE, allow a family member to come forward who will love them like we love them, like YOU love them. Amén.

I’ve said it once and I will say it again. Foster care is messy and it sucks. I look at these girls and see the healing that is only possible because of God’s unrelenting love. I hear the devil whispering in my ear, why does it even matter? I am going to undo it all anyway. Just give up, you can’t make a difference. Well, not today Satan. Not today! You canNOT stop me. I will love His children and seek justice for them, even if it breaks me over and over again. I will NOT allow you to shake me. You will find me on my knees praying every single day for His children to find a safe and loving family, in a physical family and in the family of Christ, in the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.... Satan, you have NO power here.

I know all too well that there is no harder pill to swallow than to let go and give it over to the Lord. But, what I have learned time and time again is that His plans and His knowledge are far greater than my imagination or understanding. I have no doubt that He will use these children and the gifts that we helped blossom in them to move mountains, farthing His Kingdom.

Please be praying for us, the girls, their bio family, and every single agency/country out there that works with children in crisis - may there always be a ‘what’s in the best interest of the child’ available and may we never give up seeking out a safe and loving family. Foster care - It ain’t easy, but it’s always worth it.

(Forever, loved by us)

“Our fight is not against people on earth. We are fighting against the rulers and authorities and the powers of this world’s darkness. We are fighting against the spiritual powers of evil in the heavenly places.” — ‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭6:12‬‬

No comments

Last week, we were informed that Sassy and baby Linda were on the shortlist to be reintegrated with family. We had mixed feelings (of course we love them beyond words) but we know that we are only a temporary solution for them. We were so excited at the possibility that child services had found a loving family member for them and dreamt of the future they would have within their biological family. Unfortunately, as we worked with our psychologist to prepare the girls for a possible departure they could not tell us for certain where they were going and IF they were going back to the exact same place they had come from. (This information comes from child services + their caseworker) With this news, my heart sank. How could they be going back? Did they know something we didn’t? Was the trauma they experienced there a fluke? Was the person who neglected and hurt them gone? It seemed all of my hopes were dashed. How could I tell them that they were going back? Poor Sassy. She can’t even talk about her “other house” or her “other mami” without shutting down. OKAY self - if you start to worry about a situation that means you aren’t trusting in God’s plan. So I started again with our psychologist and asked her what was the best plan of action here? I can’t mess with their felt safety and I certainly can’t spring this information on them? (Why is this chapter missing from the dang book?!) Well, first thing was first. She wanted to begin by restarting therapy sessions with Sassy to see if she could use her words to divulge any information regarding her neglect and trauma. (No pressure, four-year-old). **Insert deep breathing exercises.** Truthfully, I didn’t know how to feel because we knew NOTHING of what they came from. I only knew what I saw in their delays and behaviors and tried my best to help them heal by running with “it’s possible that the reasoning behind the behaviors is because _____”. All while trying not to jump to any conclusions. (It’s a real fun tightrope. Foster care is my cardio). So we started praying, “Lord, if where they came from is still not safe, PLEASE don’t send them back there. If sassy was hurt, let her find her words and the strength to let us know. PLEASE, let a loving family member come forward, amen.” Ya’ll 30 minutes post prayer and the Lord was already making moves. Sassy found her voice AND our psychologist said it was confirmed that they will NOT be returning from where they came from. Glory, hallelujah, amén y amén.

Beyond all of this, my heart EXPLODED when I heard from several different staff that they could see such a dramatic difference in sassy. Yaas baby girl! You are on the road to healing. You. will. move. mountains!

Foster care is hard. Really, it sucks, but there is also nothing else like it in the world - to be apart of that type of healing and to see these sweet blessings thriving. If God isn’t all up in foster care, then I just think you’re reading your bible wrong.

Please be praying for us, the girls, and their bio family, as there may be a possible reintegrated in our near future. COVID has made many things pahretty (PSA. This word is pretty, just very dramatically emphasized) tricky right now so no one can say for sure about anything. So, we are living each day like it’s our last and also as if we have forever together. Also, please be praying for Fresa too. She is going to have such a hard time with this for two reasons; one - she is desperate to be reintegrated with her sister/family and our hearts are breaking for her and two - because she will be an only child here in our home after they leave and that is going to be very very hard adjustment for her. We are trusting in the Lord's faithfulness and know that he has BIG plans for all three of these sweet girls.

No comments

Sassy -

I have started her story three times and then deleted it. How do you find the right words for telling the stories of children in crisis? Sassy and I first met in our Centro de Paso (which is temporary emergency crisis care). All I knew about her and her sister was that in Honduras there are three stages for removing children from their homes, stage three being the worst and they were classified as stage three. The neglect was apparent in her baby sister who at eight months was unable to hold up her head, sit, crawl, or drink more than eight ounces a day. But, I wasn’t oblivious to the effects of trauma that manifested themselves differently in sweet Sassy. Her demeanor was not that of a three-year-old. I had been going to the Centro three days a week to help her baby sister with strengthening exercises and every time she had just sat on and quietly observed. I was sure to let her know that we were exercising together and how strong she was getting and that one day soon she would be able to sit and crawl. I maintained eye contact with her and smiled to let her know that her sister wasn’t in danger. She would smile back, but it always seemed more reflexive than genuine happiness. (Honestly, it looked like she was in pain) At the end of week two, I played with all the littles in care, like I usually do, and that was the first day I heard a real laugh out of our sassy girl. We were playing “ring around the rosie” and her belly laugh seemed to surprise not only myself but everyone around who began to join in on her contagious giggles.

That night her baby sister spiked a VERY high fever and ended up at our home for monitoring. My heart was breaking for Sassy because I was so afraid that she would be worried about her sister. Why did she leave for the doctors and not come back? Was she wondering if she was ever coming back? I asked the staff on multiple occasions how she was doing and they said she was doing okay and hadn’t asked about her. I still wonder why she hadn’t asked about her? Was that normal for her? Had she been left alone often with no explanations? Had she learned before that she wasn’t allowed to ask questions? We may never know and my heart breaks to think of possible reasons.

Almost a week into caring for her baby sister and Sassy became sick too. We ended up waiting to see the doctor together at our clinic. I could see from across the room that she was terrified, her chest rapidly going up and down as she picked at the tips of her fingers. I was holding her baby sister tightly as her little eyes met mine. I picked up baby Linda’s hand and waved to her, but she just stared empily at me. I handed little Linda over to Colin and made my way across the room. I got down to meet her eyes and asked how she was doing, but before she could answer the doctor said it was her turn. I could instantly see the tears welling up in her eyes. We tried everything to help her feel safe. As a last ditched effort, we brought her sister over to her. She did not seem affected by her presence, but baby Linda lit up in a way I had never seen when she realized it was her big sister. My momma bear instincts kicked in and I said, come here Sassy if you want I can pick you up and hold you. What do you think? (We were supposed to be more cautious since it was the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, ~~oh well/oops)~~ I expected her to stare at me blankly, scream or at the very least say no, but she shook her head yes like I had read her mind. That was the night sassy decided she wanted to come home with us. (There was a plan for an eventual transition, but she chose us <3 )

I have heard and can attest to the fact that you can learn a lot by how children play “house”. Sassy’s favorite toy was her babydoll but she never seemed to actually interact with her. She would take her into our nursery and say, okay it’s time to sleep. No goodnights, no kisses, no diaper changes, nothing; she just laid her down to sleep and shut the door. She would remind us periodically that her baby was sleeping and would talk about her, but when we asked her if she wanted to go get her to play? she would say no, she is sleeping. Was this how she knew to care for babies because of how her sister was cared for? My mind always wanders, trying to piece together the why behind her behaviors.

(Day 1 with us)

As the weeks went by, I could see not only a physical change in Sassy; such as the fading of the dark circles under her eyes and the filling in of her cheeks but her whole personality changed. She was once described to me as the “one with the grumpy face” but her newfound laughter was infectious. Even more than that, she began to play with her baby. She would feed her, change her, give her a bath, make sure her clothes were always clean, put her in a sling to carry, and she would make sure the whole house gave her baby a kiss and hug, both before AND after naptime. (No exceptions, she’ll wait.)

If you or I both had all day, I would go into her hard days and how she has night terrors, likely from her past traumas or how it took her almost two months to trust that Colin was a safe person. There are certainly days when the pain of what has happened to them is too much to bear. Then there's the inevitability that they will leave us and it's like a punch to the gut, without a doubt it will be excruciating, but do you know what makes it worth it? The healing we get to see in her every day. Like how she runs to her Papi Colin every morning and jumps up into his arms to say good morning, or how she plays with her babydoll AND her baby sister, or how she now has the confidence in her homeschooling and isn’t afraid to make mistakes anymore because she knows that no matter what, we still love her and always will. (You know what's even better than that? Experiencing all of this times three!)

(Month 2 with us)

“I am not afraid to grieve. I’m afraid to know what would happen to these children if no one took the risk to love them” #fostercare #legacyofhopefoundation