letting go

We had to opportunity to foster a 2 week old baby for a week. It took me about 20 minutes to fall head over in heals with him. Brand new babe, I worried about him leaving, I worried about him staying. At 45, I feel to old to start again. At 45, I feel to young to give up on adoption. Confusing..... He wasn't even up for adoption. He went back home to his momma. His momma who will, more than likely, lose him to foster care again and again. My heart hurts, and when he left, he left a hole. My arms ache and I am worried for him. Worried that he had to cry thru the night, that his diaper is wet, that she slapped him again, that he wonders where the people who chuckled at his middle of the night cries went. I am sad. I am looking for my boot straps. I will find them again. And I will keep praying for his momma and for him. It's hard to trust in my prayers but it's also the only hope I have for him. I need that mustard seed faith. So little, but so much. I also need to remember that the 4 other people in this home are enough. But it feels selfish to me. For them to be enough. I need to do more, we all need to do more. His momma needs more. More support from people, someone to reach out to when she feels like screaming at her newborn or feels like slapping him. Life.