He's leaving.

He’s leaving.

Our foster parenting trainer said our first child would be the hardest to lose. I can’t imagine it being any worse. We told the girls we'd have to say 'good-bye' to him last night after we found out that he’d be going home with a relative sometime next week. Rhyan, with wisdom greater than mine, said that he needed to be with his family. That’s what she would want. But, I don’t know his family. I know ours.

Matt told me last night that if I didn’t hurt, then I wasn’t doing this right. My sweet friend said that if I had never known this precious infant, I wouldn’t have ever known to cover him in prayers for forever.

So, I’ll hurt and I’ll pray. And somewhere, after some time, I’ll pick myself up and wipe the tears from my face.  And find the strength to do this again.