Did we think about having our own biological kids?

No, we really didn’t.

Neither Seth nor I ever felt the drive to reproduce. Heaven only knows why we are wired that way, but we both are.

For me, a big part of it is the environment. I couldn’t bear to bring a child into this world and give him or her the legacy of a dying planet. That has been in my mind for many, many years. Since high school. Every time I thought about that I felt such an oppressive wave of guilt and sadness that I couldn’t get past it.

Then in my 30s I developed some medical issues that require me to take daily medications that are not compatible with pregnancy. Then I started taking antidepressants too, and I couldn’t see my way to going off my needed medications for pregnancy.

There was also the fact that the short period of time when I took oral contraceptives, I turned *evil*. Just ask Seth. It struck fear in his heart about what I’d be like when pregnant. HA!

Altogether, those factors led us to pursue Seth getting a vasectomy in his 30s and it’s not a decision we have ever regretted. It was hard for Seth to find a doctor who would even do a vasectomy on him that young when he hadn’t yet had children! That irritated both of us. I’m sure it would have been even worse if I’d wanted to get my tubes tied instead.

So how did we go from wanting to be childless to a life swimming in lots of kids?

I’ve mentioned before that Seth and I had always wanted to be foster parents. It’s legit something we talked about within the first weeks of our relationship. Just because I didn’t want to bring kids into the world didn’t mean I was anti-kids, just sure I didn’t want to birth any. Even so, there were long periods of time when I swore we would just be DINKs (Dual Income No Kids) and enjoy adult life.

But the world is a harsh place for someone as sensitive as I am, and for long periods of time I’ve felt overwhelmed and lost in all the grief and sadness and evil in the world. I remember discovering Glennon Doyle during a period of deep depression and reading one of her blog posts. One of her posts (I’m sorry, I can’t find it to link it here for the life of me) talked about how she was such a sensitive person that the only way she could leave addiction behind and come back to the world was to change the world. I felt that way intensely – the only way I could crawl out of depression and come back into the world was if I was going to use all my efforts and energies toward making the world a better place.

And that’s when I came back to the idea of foster parenting. I couldn’t change the whole world. I’m not a Glennon. But I could change a kid’s entire world, one or two kids at a time. And that was something. Something tangible and real, and something that would tax me. I needed to give of myself to the point where I could not give any more and then I would feel like at least I was giving all that I could toward making the world a better place.

So I brought up the old conversation about foster parenting “some day” and told Seth I thought perhaps the time was now. At first he said he wasn’t ready because we were still working on the house and wanted to “finish” redoing it before we took in kids. And we were both so busy with full time jobs at that point that it was hard to see how we could do it. But I pointed out that no time had yet felt “right” for it and I was convinced no time ever would – something would always be the one more thing we wanted to get done first – so we should just… dive in. To my delight and joy, Seth agreed.

When we began foster parenting our intent was just to foster. We filled out paperwork for adoption because we knew we didn’t want to disrupt a child’s life if they’d lived with us for a couple of years and then their parents’ rights were terminated. I’d never want to then say to a child “it’s been great knowing you but we don’t want to have you with us forever.” Adoption, though, wasn’t our goal. Being a soft safe place for kids to land when their worlds fell apart was our goal.

That said, that has shifted for me since we began this journey. It’s so hard for every kid we’ve loved to leave. Part of me wants a child to stay forever. But then, when I actually love an individual child I want what’s best for that child, which is to go home if at all possible. So I wind up feeling like a bad person for wanting a kid to have to stay with us forever because that means they would experience tremendous grief and loss about losing their first family for good. It’s something I wrestle with daily.