A few weeks ago, I penned a heartfelt post titled “The Face of October,” where I opened up about my struggles with infertility and pregnancy loss. While that chapter was incredibly painful, it hardly captures the entirety of my story. I am now a mother, a role I embraced four and a half years ago, after countless prayers, tears, and heartaches.
My path to motherhood was anything but conventional, so I’m not sure why I anticipated it would be different. I became a mom through the foster-to-adopt system, and in a matter of moments, we transitioned from having no children to three—all in sixty seconds. This whirlwind adventure has been the most exhilarating experience of our lives.
From the outset, my husband, Mark, and I knew we wanted to adopt. We explored both international and domestic options, but the costs were simply prohibitive. My mother has been a foster parent since I was a teenager, allowing me to meet some truly amazing individuals along the way. One weekend, she was providing respite care for an adorable little girl with black hair. We immediately connected, and Mark and I decided to adopt her.
We sped through the required training, and just as we completed it, we were offered the chance to keep her for a weekend. Days before her arrival, the agency called to inform us that if we wanted her, we also needed to take her little brother. We agreed, diving headfirst into the chaos, which was both stressful and exhilarating. We took them to a movie and introduced them to family, living out our dreams. However, when we conveyed our willingness to adopt them, the agency shocked us by saying we would also need to take their two older siblings, ages 15 and 16.
In an instant, we went from zero to three children, and it was undeniably the biggest adventure of our lives. At just 23 years old, living in a small three-bedroom house, we were expected to parent kids who were nearly our same age. Recognizing that this situation wasn’t ideal for anyone involved, we made the difficult decision to decline, leaving us heartbroken.
During one of the agency’s training sessions, the director made a comment at our table about our decision to turn down the siblings, suggesting that if I truly wanted to be a mother, I would have taken them all. I left that meeting in tears, and soon after, we shifted our focus to trying for biological children, only to face disappointment once again.
Fast forward seven years. We had just begun attending a new church when a bulletin featuring a little girl from another country caught our attention. It felt like a calling. That same week, we received a letter from our previous foster care agency, detailing changes that had taken place during our hiatus. After much prayer and contemplation, we decided to give it another shot.
We filled out mountains of paperwork and had to confront tough questions we had previously avoided: Would we accept children with severe health issues or disabilities? Would we welcome children of different races and sibling groups? It was gut-wrenching to say no to some of these questions, but we understood our limitations.
Once we completed our training, calls started coming in. The first two didn’t feel right, so we passed on them. But just two weeks after finishing our training, we received a call about a sibling trio that felt perfect. We instinctively knew this was our path, even before meeting them.
Initially, we were given two weeks to prepare, but that was whittled down to one, and then just three days. We had only three days to procure beds, clothing, food, and muster every ounce of courage we had. Doubts crept in, and the night before their arrival, we even contemplated backing out. Thankfully, our director wouldn’t hear of it; I consider her our guardian angel for guiding us through our fears.
On April 4th, at 1:00 PM, the social worker arrived with three of the most beautiful children I had ever seen. The oldest, a six-year-old girl, was in tears, frightened after leaving her foster family of three years. My mother encouraged me to comfort her, so I went to her, and she hugged me, gifting me a white seashell that I still keep as a memento. As we showed them their new rooms, I broke down, overwhelmed by love, joy, fear, and anxiety. This was motherhood, raw and beautiful.
After enrolling the children in school, we spent the weekend bonding. At a game night with friends, the youngest called me “momma” for the first time, and I couldn’t hold back my tears. Our first family photos capture genuine smiles, despite the upheaval they had just experienced. I believe this was a divine moment.
While I wish I could say our journey has been smooth sailing, that’s not the reality of parenthood. There have been challenges, and not everyone has been supportive, but those issues reflect more on them than on us. Sixteen months later, we finalized the adoption; there were tears of joy from all sides, and our family was officially complete.
Today, more than four years after that life-changing day, we’ve settled into our roles as parents. We take pride in our responsibilities, and while anxiety and uncertainty still linger at times, we face each day together. These kids are our entire world, and no one loves them more than we do. We will always be their loudest cheerleaders, celebrating their victories and supporting them through mistakes. Perfection is a myth, but in this beautifully chaotic life, we are perfect for each other.
For more on related topics, check out this insightful post on our home insemination blog. If you’re seeking more information on navigating the fertility journey, consider visiting Make a Mom and Medical News Today for excellent resources.
In summary, our unexpected journey from having no children to becoming a family of five was filled with challenges and triumphs. Through the ups and downs of parenthood, we’ve formed a bond that is unbreakable. Our lives were forever changed, and we embrace each moment with love and gratitude.