There was a poem I read as a new mom that always brought tears to my eyes. It made me grateful for the time I had at home with my baby — even during those long, late-night feedings. The poem went a something like this:
Cleaning and scrubbing can wait ’til tomorrow,
for babies grow up we’ve learned to our sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs, and dust go to sleep.
I’m rocking my baby, and babies don’t keep.
This poem came to my mind again today as I was holding my baby foster daughter who had tripped, bit her lip and was in need of momma’s comfort. As I held her on my lap, rubbing her back and telling her she was OK, I thought to myself how grateful I am for this moment.
It is in moments such as this when everything stops and you get a chance to revel in an event you inevitably one day will not have.
Your baby will grow up and still need you, but not in the same hands-on way. It struck me today (as I comforted my baby) how all the more true that is in this world of foster care. There will come a day when my child doesn’t need me the way she needed me today. I hope and pray it’s due to the fact her mom has taken care of herself and provided a safe home for this child.
Regardless, eventually her level of need will change. So for now, I will gladly give hugs in responses to owies and kiss away tears, and hold those little hands every chance I get.
– Charonne Ganiere, licensed foster parent