As November is Adoption Awareness month, one of our own shares her heartwarming story on adopting her son.

I’m a mom. I’m an adoptive mom, a biological mom, a teacher-mom, a godmother. I have a mother heart beating in my chest, pumping a mother beat through my veins every day, every night. Other mothers of every kind, you know what I mean.

My journey as a mom has been amazing. Never typical and always surprising me, teaching me, stretching me so my heart can grow. Of course, there is much that’s ahead of me and a million things happening right now. For a moment though I’ll share a little about where I’ve been.


My husband and I were teachers. I fell in love with those kids I taught. How could I not? They depended on me, and they were each amazing little people. I learned as a teacher, all of us are. But year after year a seed was growing inside of me… that need to be a mom to my own beautiful little people forever, not limited to the 180 days of the school year. Year after year, pregnancy test after pregnancy test, nothing. This was hard.

But then, there was light. Another seed started growing. The adoptive mom seed. It was firmly planted and it grew fast. My husband was with me, and life took over. The universe shifted and this new path was laid out before us. Before we knew it we had a beautiful baby in our arms, in our home. Don’t get me wrong, there were obstacles on the adoptive mom path too; a lot of waiting and a lot of stretching. We had to learn a whole new level of faith. We had to learn a whole new level of humble. We had to totally let go of expectations and control.

It was the best thing that ever happened to me.


Being an adoptive mom is like being any kind of mom in that it it’s HARD. It’s sacrifice, pain, and worry. You learn as you go. You can have the best intentions and act solely out of love, and you still fail every day. You love this little person more than your own life. That child is all that matters.

Being an adoptive mom is also unique. You gain a child and you gain a birth mother. And a birth family. Now no adoption journey or experience is like any other, just like no two families or people are the same. But a child that is adopted will always have roots, will always mourn not being raised with his biological family in some way. That is part of what adoption is. It’s hope in a dark situation. It can be so beautiful. But it’s always coupled with pain.

I love my son’s birth parents. They are part of who we are. I think of them, worry about them, I respect them, I’m in awe of them. I tuck this boy into bed and I rejoice because I’m his mom. And I ache for his birth mother. I don’t have the answers, and I’m not any kind of expert. I don’t know what the future holds or how I’ll help my son grapple with his amazing, sad story as he becomes a teenager, then an adult. But I take solace in the fact that my son has always and will always know unconditional love. From us and from his birth parents. He is all of our hopes and dreams, our four beating hearts in one adorable, spunky, 4-year-old boy package. We’re going to make it. But most importantly, this path is ours together. And we’ll navigate the bumps as we go.


Post written by: Jane Seib, Curriculum and Service Programs Director