I did a lot of soul searching over the next few months about fostering. Emotionally, the idea of fostering still didn't tick several boxes, perhaps for me, or answer some of the deep longings and desires for family, I was slowly beginning to realise and face. Also, I would have to give the children back - or they would leave of their own volition, perhaps.
Emotionally this would be heart wrenching, surely, wouldn't it?
Financially, it seemed so unstable. The children or child arrives, stays for a while and then goes. Income fluctuates or disappears. If I have completely given up work to do this and there are no children to foster then I am stuffed with no job and the bills would still arrive.
It wasn't looking good.
It just all seems a big risk. Financially, as a single woman, giving up work full time or even part time did not seem an option. Emotionally, it seemed to be incredibly rewarding, the chance to invest in others lives and equally heartbreaking to see them go. The impermanence and lack of sense of family seemed to be a growing sensation, for me. Belonging, family, permanence was what I was wanting. The loft conversion? I got a quote. £30k. Moving house? Not a financially viable option considering house prices, living costs versus number of bedrooms and moving costs. With all this in mind, I made my decision.
I closed the door to fostering as an option.
I still have time, don't I?