I was never the kind of little girl who dressed up her Barbie dolls and dreamed about a wedding with Ken and a line of bridesmaids. What I did dream about, though, was being a mom one day. That was always in my heart.
I grew up in the Poconos, Pennsylvania, during my pre-teen years. My mom owned and ran a small private school for little kids. It focused on early childhood development and advanced learning. Since it was our family’s business, my brother and I practically grew up there. After school, we’d play on the playground with the kids, help settle the toddlers for naps, pass out snacks, help with homework, and even clean up at the end of the day. We learned early on how much work it took to care for children, but we also saw the joy it brought.
In the mid-90s, my mom started welcoming kids in foster care to the school. She explained to us that while some might only be there for a short time, their needs were the same as any other child. She created safe spaces for all of them and treated them with patience and love. Watching her showed me how to care for kids and advocate for them. I know a lot of who I am today as a mom comes from her example.
Life brought changes. My parents divorced in 1997, my mom remarried, and by 2001 we moved to Virginia, though she kept her school in Pennsylvania until she retired in 2011 after a serious injury.
Fast forward to 2017. By then I had lived in Virginia for sixteen years. I was working as a government contractor, styling weddings on the side, and traveling when I could. I also loved weightlifting and spending time with my black lab, Tonka. I had set a goal to buy a house before I turned 30, and just before my 31st birthday, I made it happen.
Being a new homeowner kept me busy at first, but once the projects were finished, I felt like something was missing. I tried to get involved in the community, but nothing felt right. During a visit with my mom in Florida, I thought back to my happiest childhood memories, which were always around kids. That’s when I decided to explore becoming a foster parent. My mom was thrilled and supported me completely.
By the end of 2018, I was going through the process, and on September 23, 2019, I officially became certified. My house was ready for any child who needed it. At first, I was excited, but then fear crept in. Could I really do this? Would I be enough as a single mom? The first few calls from the county didn’t work out, the children weren’t a match for my home. I started to feel discouraged.
Then, in November, I got the call. A 13-year-old girl needed a placement, and they thought I’d be a great fit. I said yes immediately. We spent a few weeks talking on the phone and then finally met on December 6, 2019. We went to lunch and shopping together, and I’ll never forget when she asked me if she could start calling me “mom.” It touched me deeply, but it also scared me, because I didn’t want to let her down.
She moved in officially on December 13, right before the holidays. Those first months were a whirlwind, doctor’s visits, school enrollment, therapy sessions, meetings — and she was also adjusting to a new home and new school. Then, in March 2020, Covid hit. Suddenly, I was a single mom working from home, homeschooling, cooking, and trying to hold it all together. It was hard, but we got through it.
By summer, it was clear reunification with her biological family wasn’t possible. That was heartbreaking, but it also made me realize I couldn’t let her go back into foster care again. She had become my daughter in every way that mattered. Everyone who met her loved her, she was smart, funny, and finally thriving.
In June 2020, her biological mom, the county, and everyone involved agreed that I would adopt her. The official custody hearing took place in September, one year to the day after I became a foster parent. By April 29, 2021, just before Mother’s Day, the adoption was finalized. That moment was overwhelming in the best way.
Two days later, her school counselor left a basket on our doorstep filled with gifts and handwritten notes from her teachers. It showed us how supported we were. That summer, we celebrated her adoption with family and friends. It was one of the happiest times of my life.
I know our story is not how it always happens in foster care. We were blessed with an incredible team and so much support. The journey changed me, I became more patient, more compassionate, and more aware of how trauma shapes lives.
Today, I’m the proud mom of a high school sophomore. She works hard, dreams big, and amazes me every day. We still go to therapy together and even keep healthy contact with some of her birth family. It’s shown us that family is not just blood, it’s love without conditions.
I don’t know what the future will bring, but I do know this: becoming a foster mom, and now an adoptive mom, is the greatest gift of my life.
