I was too young when I always knew two things about myself: I wanted to teach, and I wanted to be a mother.teaching was m Teaching came first. I’ve been in the classroom for 17 years, guiding and loving my students. But it wasn’t until year 16 that another dream of mine came true becoming a foster mom.
In February of 2020, I officially began the process of becoming licensed. I filled out all the forms, got letters of recommendation, completed medical clearances, and went through background checks. Then, the pandemic hit, and everything came to a halt. For weeks, I heard nothing. I worried I had waited too long to follow through on something that had been in my heart since childhood.
Even as a little girl, I played with dolls pretending they were adopted or in foster care. In fifth grade, I read The Great Gilly Hopkins and became even more curious about what fostering truly meant. My teacher explained it simply: sometimes parents cannot care for their children, and foster parents step in to love them until their parents are ready again. That explanation has stayed with me and, years later, became my calling.
Foster care is also a part of my family history. My father and his sister spent their early years in the system. They were separated into different homes until eventually their grandparents stepped in to raise them. That experience shaped my dad’s life, and in many ways, shaped mine.
I always thought I’d become a mom in the traditional sense—falling in love, getting married, and raising children in my twenties. But as the years passed, life took a different turn. I moved states for teaching, focused on my career, and waited for the right timing. When I realized marriage might not come, I decided I wouldn’t wait any longer. Motherhood, no matter how it happened, was meant for me.
Getting licensed wasn’t easy. The process was slow lost documents, delayed background checks, endless waiting. But during that time, friends and family surrounded me with encouragement. My best friend even helped set up a child’s room in my home, and people from all areas of my life sent gifts, clothing, and supplies. Their support filled me with hope, reminding me I wasn’t stepping into this journey alone.
By October 2020, I was officially licensed. Calls for placements began almost immediately, but many children ended up with relatives. Then one day, I got the call that would change my life: a one-year-old girl needed a home. The moment I met her, I knew she belonged with me. The transition was hard she cried for her mom every night but over time, she began to trust me, even calling me “Mama.” We spent birthdays together, danced during my online classes, and shared a bond that felt unbreakable.
Eventually, her father and later her mother re-entered the picture, but visits faded, and the future became uncertain. For nearly 16 months she was my world. Then, just as I was asked to consider permanent placement, a relative stepped forward. It was the right decision for her, but heartbreaking for me. Letting go was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. She wasn’t mine, but she had my whole heart.
Around the same time, I welcomed a newborn baby boy. He was just three days old when I brought him home. Everyone was so excited and happy we arrange a welcome party. He’s been with me ever since, and though he faces medical challenges, he is thriving. Later, I also took in his younger brother, knowing how important it was for siblings to grow up together. The three of us have formed a family one built on love, resilience, and a lot of laughter.
Foster care has brought me joy, heartbreak, and everything in between. People often say, “I could never do it; I’d get too attached.” But that’s exactly what these children need someone willing to attach, to love them fully, even if only for a season. Every child who has come through my door has taken a piece of my heart with them.
I don’t know what the next chapter will look like, but I do know this: my home and my heart will remain open. Foster care has always been written into my story, and as long as children need a safe place to land, I will be here to love them as my own.i will give him or her my love care and hope .
