I am a foster mom.
I love children who do not share my blood or my last name.
I worry more than most and I do better internet research than the FBI.
I am not a doormat, you may not walk all over me.
I am a foster mom.
I survive sleepless nights with coffee the next day.
I hope and I pray for the best for “my” babies even when I fear the worst.
I have no parental rights to these children, yet I wipe every nose, dry every tear, and change every poopy diaper.
I am a foster mom.
I pray that God will give me the strength to keep going when I have no strength left within me.
My hopes and my dreams for these little ones do not matter to anyone else, but I still hope and I still dream.
I am a foster mom!
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I love this! It’s so true. We are a rare breed, we foster moms.