My husband and I have been together for 11 years. When I first met Todd, I instantly stepped into the role of being a mom to his five-year-old daughter. Not long after we got married, we welcomed two girls of our own. Today, Zoe is 18, Nora is 10, and Ruby is 7. Having Nora and Ruby wasn’t easy. With Nora, we faced a year of infertility, and she ended up being born at only 25 weeks. She weighed less than two pounds but fought through every obstacle in the NICU. Looking at her now, thriving at age 10, it feels almost unreal. Ruby’s pregnancy came with its own stress and complications, but she held on until 36 weeks before making her way into the world.
With all that, we thought our hands were full. Between medical scares and constant appointments, we would sometimes joke that insurance should pay us to stop having kids. Deep down, I knew more biological kids weren’t possible—my body just couldn’t handle it—but I also couldn’t shake the feeling our family wasn’t complete. I didn’t know what God’s plan was, but I trusted He’d show us when the time was right.
Around two years ago, I began feeling a strong pull toward foster care. At first, I brushed it aside, but the feeling only grew. I brought it up to Todd, and he flat-out said no. He’s a good man, but the idea of raising someone else’s children wasn’t something he could picture. I left it alone for a while, but the nudge didn’t stop. If anything, it felt more like a shove. Finally, I told him this wasn’t going away, and his response was simple: “Then we’d better look into it.”
I didn’t know much about foster care at all. My only exposure was as a kid, when my aunt fostered newborns. I remember holding them, rocking them, and thinking how tiny they were. But I had no idea what it meant to live the reality of foster care every single day. And let me be honest—I’m naturally anxious, I hate change, and I’d rather keep life quiet and predictable. On top of that, I’m introverted until I really know people. So, stepping into foster care felt completely against my grain. But I also knew in my heart this was exactly where God wanted me to go.
We started training classes in March 2021, and by July, we were licensed. I’ll never forget—we were on our way to vacation when we got the call. Instead of soaking up the sun in peace, my mind spun with nerves, knowing life as we knew it was about to change.
Two weeks later, we got our first placement: a teenage girl and her toddler sister. I wasn’t ready. The girls weren’t the issue—it was my anxiety. I felt completely out of my depth, especially with the teenager and the heavy history she carried. After 10 days, things ended abruptly, with police removing them from our home. I was crushed. I cried for days, convinced I had failed them, failed my family, failed God.
We took a step back, prayed hard, and read more about foster care. Eventually, I felt God telling me not to give up. Honestly, I wasn’t happy about it. We decided to adjust our criteria to younger kids—between four and nine years old. But when the next call came, it was for a newborn baby girl, and my heart screamed “yes.” That little one changed everything for us.
We fell head over heels for her. Even though we knew the goal of foster care was reunification, we loved her like our own. Supporting her biological parents was not always easy, but I learned quickly that foster care is just as much about loving the whole family as it is about loving the child.
Three months later, right before Christmas, we got a call about a little boy who needed a home. He’d been in foster care for two years, his parental rights were already terminated, and he was waiting for adoption. We said yes without hesitation. Christmas that year was the most joyful I’ve ever known—watching all the kids, including him, light up with excitement. It felt like God had handed me a gift I never even thought to ask for.
Our sweet baby girl was reunified with her family in January. Dropping her off was gut-wrenching, but I knew it was right. We had stepped in for the season God needed us, and now it was time to step back. We still see her and support her family, and that brings me peace. Meanwhile, we’re moving toward adoption for our little boy, and I couldn’t feel more grateful to call him my son.
This journey has been full of ups and downs. Foster care has stretched me in ways I never thought possible. I’ve learned to trust God more deeply and to accept my own limits. Saying yes has changed me far more than I ever expected. And while we don’t know exactly what the future holds, I’m already praying for the next child who might walk through our door, scared and unsure. Whoever they are, I know God will guide us just as He has from the start. “I got my first home, a dog, and an SUV. Then came children”: Woman shares IVF, single mom by choice journey
