I always dreamed of being a mom, but I wasn’t sure how it would happen. I was diagnosed with severe migraines in second grade and epilepsy in sixth grade. I frequently found myself questioning whether I’d ever be able to have children someday.
I’m the oldest of three kids. My parents were high school sweethearts. My dad retired from the Air Force when I was young and became a TV meteorologist. He worked hard, moving from one job to another as his career grew, while my mom worked both inside and outside the home depending on where we lived. We moved every two or three years. At the time, I didn’t like it, but looking back, it taught me how to adapt, make friends quickly, and appreciate new places.
One of those moves brought us to the Tri-Cities area. My dad got his first TV job there, and we joined a small local church. It was there that our family became close to another family one I would later marry into. When we moved again, our families stayed in touch, visiting each other as if no time had passed.
Years later, right before starting college at Washington State University, I admitted to a friend that I had always had a crush on Nash, the boy from that family. Word got back to him, and the rest is history. During my final year in college, we started dating, got engaged, and eventually tied the knot.
Even before we were married, I talked with Nash about my health concerns and the possibility that pregnancy could be difficult. I also told him that adoption had always been on my heart, no matter what. As it turned out, we were blessed with three healthy children naturally, despite my epilepsy.However, adopting a child remained something I deeply hoped for.
At first, I researched international adoption, since I had cousins adopted from overseas. Unfortunately, my experience was discouraging. When I disclosed my epilepsy, I received a cold response suggesting we’d only qualify for adopting a “lesser quality child.” That painful reply stayed with me and made me give up on international adoption for a while.
Time passed, and though I tried to ignore it, adoption kept tugging at my heart. Domestic adoption through foster care was my only other option, but the idea made me nervous. I didn’t know if I could handle the hard stories that came with foster care. I was right to be uneasy; foster care is heartbreaking and beautiful all at once.
One day, I saw a sign by the road that said, “Foster parents needed.” At first, I brushed it off, but the thought lingered. Soon after, Nash and I started taking foster care classes. We completed the training and paperwork but set it aside until 2012.
That year, my aunt passed away from cancer. She had been studying social work, and we once had a conversation about kids in foster care having to carry all their belongings in trash bags. That stuck with me and later inspired my nonprofit, Beautifully Inspired.
That summer, my uncle asked if we could take in my cousin’s daughter. We agreed, and by August, she was living with us full-time. Soon after, I had a seizure brought on by emotional stress, and later another after losing my uncle. It was a tough season, but it showed me the importance of slowing down and being present.
We began fostering other children soon after. Our first placement was a six-month-old baby exposed to drugs. He stayed for a few months before going home. Over the years, we’ve had many children come and go some for days, others forever. Fostering opened my eyes to the brokenness of the system but also to the incredible resilience of kids.
Now, more than 10 years later, we’ve fostered many children, adopted some, and even have a grandson. We moved into a bigger house to keep siblings together. Foster care is exhausting and emotionally heavy, but it’s worth every tear. Loving these kids deeply, even when you have to say goodbye, is the whole point.
The system still needs change, but for now, I’ll keep showing up for these kids, one day and one child at a time.
