You want to do WHAT?

Most people I told thought I was crazy.  My only child was graduating college and getting ready to start graduate school.  I was happily settled in my job, my home, my marriage, my life. I had raised a good kid who was drug free and hadn't gotten pregnant and was ambitious to boot.  I was "done," wasn't I?  Job well done, right?

Why on earth would I want to start all over and start fostering, let alone babies?

I wish I had a clear cut answer.  Maybe it was empty nest syndrome, but I don't think so.  I had no real calling to have another baby (in fact, I hated being pregnant).  I had no desire to raise another teenager, pay for braces, deal with middle school bullies.  

But I wanted a baby.  Badly.  The thought of fostering seemed so perfect:  love on a baby for a few weeks, a few months, while his or her parents got their lives together, give them back to a (hopefully) now-functioning household, wait a week, and get another one.  I was ready to repeat this forever.