Kyrie’s Kids

What we don’t talk about are all the children that couldn’t stay with us.

What we don’t talk about are all the times we said no.

What we don’t talk about is the little girl with multiple handicaps that we were first “offered” when we very first started fostering, who passed away before our home had the paperwork to get going.

What we don’t talk about is the little baby girl who was born with half a heart, whose doctors called us a year ago to see if we could adopt her before she died.

What we don’t talk about is the little baby boy we got called about this week, the one who was born with a too small head and no folds in his brain.

What we don’t talk about are all the ghosts of faces we see that we cannot help.

We cannot help them because our house is full.

We cannot help them because we are mortal, and exhausted.

We cannot help them because the special needs of our own children are already so expensive.

We cannot help them because our time is spent earning money to care for these children, and our free time is spent playing with the little ones we made promises to already.

We cannot help them because there is just me and Nathan, and sometimes a nanny, and everyone in the community who helped us so much is about tired of rescuing us because we tried to rescue these.

We cannot help them because, because, because.

Except we can.

We don’t need to adopt every single baby in the world.

We don’t need to bring home every single medical fragile child we encounter.

We don’t need to keep every single little one the rest of the world rejects.

But we do need to do something.

There should be a safe place that an abandoned infant could go to die, instead of dying alone in the hospital.

There should be a safe place that a medically fragile child could be properly cared for until a brave family could be found.

There should be a safe place that sick children who are “difficult to place” could go to receive therapy and be stimulated and receive nurturing and love while waiting for their forever families, instead of being stuck in the hospital by default, sometimes for years.

That’s what we can do, even when we can’t be a family for every single one, we could be a place.

We can use our experiences from Seven Lively Arts, our experiences from fostering, our parenting skills, our newly gained medical skills, our fantabulous resources of excellent therapists and nurses and doctors, and all the contacts we have gained through the book and through advocating these recent years and three houses when we only need to live in one…. all of it suddenly makes sense.

All of these random pieces that have slowly pulled together over time, and then exponential-ized since the book, and the platform responsibility we now have, plus new secret warriors who have the missing pieces I needed, and suddenly it’s all coming together.

We are going to start an agency, for group homes for medically fragile children.

I’m not kidding.

We are going to call it Kyrie’s Kids.

That’s what we are going to do.  I already have the paperwork from the state to fill out, and the contacts I need, and the friends who are willing to help and full of ideas, and resources to get started, and plans to make as soon as Nathan wakes up and finds out about all this in the morning.

But it’s happening, you guys.

We’re opening a group home.

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About Emily

I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints since 2009. I serve as a Chaplain, and work as a counselor. I got bilateral cochlear implants in 2010, but will always love sign language. I choose books over television, and organics over processed. Nothing is as close to flying as ballroom dancing - except maybe running, when in the solo mood. I would rather be outside than anywhere else, especially at the river riding my bike or kayaking. PhD in Marriage and Family Therapy, and currently doing a post-doc in Jewish Studies and an MDiv in Pastoral Counseling. The best thing about Emily World is that it's always an adventure, even if (not so) grammatically precise. The only thing better than writing is being married to a writer. Nathan Christensen and I were married in the Oklahoma City temple on 13 October 2012, and have since fostered more than eighty-five children. We have adopted the six who stayed, and are totally and completely and helplessly in love with our family. Nathan writes musical theater, including "Broadcast" (a musical history of the radio) and an adaption of Lois Lowry's "The Giver". He served his mission in South Korea, has taught song-writing in New York City public schools, and worked as a theater critic for a Tucson newspaper. This is not an official Web site of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.


Kyrie’s Kids — 4 Comments

  1. Excited about this because our father is sooo good.. Lately I have felt called to do something with all the posts I am seeing about fosters being needed.. however we are not in a position to take in children (very tiny houses are real) BUT we can donate or help with yardwork or whatever you need!!! Keep us posted!!!!

  2. Have thought SOOO often in the years I’ve been following your blog that the State should just set up a BIG home for you as ‘The Parents’ where they pay for everything and where you didn’t have to have jobs…. but that being the most awesome parents and foster parents who actually loved children and KNEW HOW TO HELP THEM would be your job–
    And where you had cooks
    and helpers
    and drivers
    and assistants
    and nurses
    and teachers
    and cleaners–And then you and Nathan could just be free to do the stuff that only you guys can do so well, loving children and teaching them about life and morals and right and wrong and how to work through negative feelings and how to act with responsibility and kindness.
    And music and reading and studying.
    And Family Home Evening and prayers and responsibility to God.
    And helping them process all their many issues and traumas and feelings.

    So many more children and babies you could have cuddled and held and loved and taught and influenced personally–if not for the constraints of $$$$ and realities of this mortal world.
    Too bad the State couldn’t figure out they would get a lot more bang for their buck letting you guys have many children and many assistants–and know that the children under your care would grow up happy and normal and contributing citizens– instead of in the prison system or the Welfare system. Too bad they cant take $$$$ from the last 2 and put it into funding you guys and what you could do so well.
    God must know your hearts and must honor all those you’ve mentioned–the ‘ghosts’ of faces you couldn’t help but that you wished you could, and WOULD, if you just had the resources and ability.
    You guys are amazing.