My name is Emily Anderson. I’m 27 years old, and I grew up in a small town where everybody knows everybody. My childhood could be described as “normal.” I played sports, did okay in school, had many friends, and was generally happy. Life felt simple, familiar, and safe.
In November 2007, at my mom’s church during a cookout, my forever love story began. A boy named Dustin came to the cookout, and 13-year-old me instantly fell head over heels. I know it sounds unbelievable, but I remember telling my friend, “I’m going to marry that boy someday.” We started dating at that young age, and from that moment on, no one mattered to me more than him. He became the person who made me smile, who I thought about before falling asleep, and who I wanted to spend my entire life with.
By the summer of 2010, my life took a huge turn—I found out I was pregnant at just 16. I knew immediately that my path would be very different from most teens my age. The night I told my parents, I made the choice to move in with Dustin and his family temporarily until we could find our own place. My parents didn’t force me out; this was my decision, made with careful thought and love. By the end of that year, we had made another major life choice: we decided to get married. While we had dreamed of a wedding surrounded by family and friends, reality led us to the courthouse. I was seven months pregnant, and instead of a dress, I looked more ready for a business meeting.
In February 2011, we welcomed our firstborn son. He looked just like his dad and instantly became our whole world. Fast forward to August 2012, our first daughter arrived. She filled our home with joy and gave me immense pride as a mother with her bubbly personality. At that point, we thought our family was complete, but the Lord had other plans. In September 2016, we welcomed our youngest bio child, a laid-back little boy who quickly became the baby of the family. Each child brought a unique joy and balance to our lives, and we felt incredibly blessed.
Though our family may not have had many material possessions, the love we shared was abundant. In 2020, during the pandemic, Dustin and I felt a calling to extend that love beyond our biological children. We wanted to become licensed foster parents. Hearing friends’ experiences in foster care inspired us, and we felt we could make a difference.
At first, I hesitated. I worried my heart couldn’t handle the emotions, the inevitable attachment, and the potential heartbreak. Yet, I reminded myself: if not us, then who? Foster children need families who will care deeply, often more than for their own needs. According to the most recent federal data, over 400,000 children are in foster care in the U.S., with more than 100,000 waiting for forever homes. The need is enormous, and the call to serve was undeniable.
The licensing process was intense but necessary. We completed background checks, CPR certification, fingerprints, home studies, fire inspections, and endless paperwork. We read books, answered countless questions, and prepared as best we could. Then, on February 3, we received the message we had been waiting for: our license had been approved! I couldn’t believe it. We were now officially ready to welcome a child into our home, though the first call hadn’t come yet.
Just two days later, my phone buzzed. A caseworker asked if we were available to take a placement the following week. It was a newborn. I was overjoyed and immediately said yes. But then we learned the baby had a medical condition that was beyond what we could manage with three young children. Saying no broke my heart. I felt like I had failed, even though I knew there were families equipped to care for children with more complex needs.
A few weeks later, on February 24, 2021, I learned why it hadn’t worked out. God’s plan was bigger than mine. A text came in about a toddler needing a home. Without hesitation, I said yes. I didn’t know the full details, but I knew I was ready to love this child.
The first time I held her, I cried. Tears ran down my face as I rocked her to sleep—tears of joy, sorrow, and hope. Joy because I could care for her, sorrow because she had been separated from her parents, and hope that our time together would bring her comfort. Even though we didn’t know how long she would stay, I loved her as my own from the very first moment.
A few days later, we learned she might return to her biological family, and indeed, she left a week after arriving. While we were sad, we knew it was the right decision. She had become part of our family, even briefly, and our hearts were forever touched by her presence.
This is the reality of foster care. The emotional roller coaster is unpredictable. Children come and go, yet the love and care you provide leave a lasting impact. You continue to pray for them, think of them, and hope for their happiness long after they’ve left. For us, knowing a child is safe and loved makes every heartbreak worth it.
Now, we wait for the next call, ready to open our hearts once again. Our family of five is eager to welcome another child, to give them love and stability for as long as they need it. Every child deserves that chance, and we are ready to be that family.
