Sam's brief visit had a profound impact on us.

My partner and I were embarking on a new adventure that would involve being questioned and analyzed for nearly a year. The amount of training we underwent was immense, and as our first day as foster carers approached, we couldn't help but feel like we had forgotten everything we learned. We were so nervous that we were even asking where the bathroom was in our own home. It was quite an awkward situation.

As we nervously chatted during our first car ride with Sam*, the teenager we were caring for, the atmosphere was tense. Sam remained silent in the backseat, and my partner and I were overcompensating with our chatter. It felt like a bad first date, and eventually, we settled into a quietness that we usually reserved for hangovers and post-argument reflection. We knew that the next few days were going to be a long journey for us all.

Our task was to have Sam stay with us for a weekend, and despite the thorough vetting process and support networks we were provided with, I couldn't shake the feeling that someone would come and explain to all three of us that there had been a terrible mistake. I was almost convinced that as a couple without children of our own, we would not be allowed to care for a child aged four or older.

It all started with a 'skills to foster' course. When we first inquired about becoming local authority foster carers, we were a whole year away from meeting our first young person. It seemed like a distant goal that we were constantly moving towards, but it never stopped feeling like something on the horizon, similar to paying off a student loan or fitting into your favorite jeans again.

The assessment process itself was lengthy, intrusive, and thorough, just as we had hoped. We began with a broad overview of what it takes to be a foster carer, with a chance to ask questions about important topics like first aid. However, we quickly learned that the scariest thing about this journey was not the training, but rather the quality of the coffee in council-owned buildings. This is where most people who drop out, do.

After completing the course, my partner and I were back at our house, which felt unfamiliar to all three of us. We had briefly visited the week before with Sam's carer to ensure that this weekend-long placement would work, and to put a face to the smiling pictures in the 'about us' document that they had received. The house had been tidied to oblivion, and the smell of Zoflora filled our farmhouse kitchen. We struggled to carry the deceptively heavy bags up to the room that Sam had picked out the week before. It was a big and airy room, but it also felt welcoming and wholly unsuitable at the same time.

We left Sam to settle in and began preparing a dream dinner, with helpful tips from their foster carers on their favorite dishes. As the saying goes, an army marches on its belly, and the same goes for teenagers - this is where we shine. My partner and I shared a smile and a portion, not expecting Sam to want seconds as well.

And just like that, after a few days, Sam's short stay with us was over. Since then, we have hosted a range of teenagers for short breaks, lasting anywhere from a few hours to a few weeks. Like many people with new children in their lives, we started with strict rules about meals, screen time, and our presence. We wanted to be there for them 24 hours a day, as a team and a double act. This way, we could always bounce worries off each other, use each other as sounding boards, and discuss the day's events in bed at night.

But as time went on, we learned to relax a little. It was okay if both of us weren't there 24/7 when we had a child staying with us. And while it was a great achievement to add new dishes to a young person's favorites list, ultimately, our goal was to make sure they went to bed with a full belly. Oh, and phones were still a no-go until bedtime.

During the assessment process, my partner and I were asked tough questions by a social worker in multiple interviews. Even at the final stage panel with a group of experts, we were grilled about every aspect of our lives. Yet, nothing could have prepared us for the questions we would receive from the young people in our care. Questions like, "What are we going to do that's fun today?", "Do you have a proper job?", and "Did you know you have 11 dead things in the living room?" caught us off guard.

We were also faced with the challenge of explaining my taxidermy hobby, which was not an easy task. And while it was a fair point that it was difficult to explain, it also wasn't very sporting of Sam to include the houseplant on the windowsill.

These young people are often hyper vigilant, and it's not easy to get anything past them. This can be scary at first, but it also forces you to be mindful of your words and actions. I quickly learned to keep my language in check, as the fear of accidentally muttering an expletive at the chicken who wandered into the kitchen through an open door was real. But it also kept me present in the moment.

It has been a thrilling, challenging, and enlightening three years, and the more we do it, the more we realize that this is exactly what family looks like to us. I am also convinced that if more people knew about fostering and the impact it can have on both the carers and the young people, they would realize that it's the perfect fit for them. It has enriched and invigorated our lives, much like parental wild swimming.

There is one issue, however, and it's not the amount of time it takes to train. It's the fact that the number of children in need of foster carers has been increasing every year for the past decade and has now reached over 100,000. Fostering will change your life, and you might just find yourself tearing up in the car as you, your partner, and the first child you ever cared for sing Taylor Swift at the top of your lungs after an amazing weekend together.

You will survive, and you might just find that you thrive. *Name has been changed for anonymity.

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