A single mom to three boys working hard to live my truest life. I hope as I share the beauty, the gratitude, the grief, the hard…you find inspiration + hope to show up to your life as honestly as possible.
All in Adoptive Mom
When we were called about a baby boy born a few states over, his mama looking for The Couple that clicked *them* in her soul…
…I could not have imagined the years to come of intense unlearning & relearning, humbling & growing, & the deepest love I’ve ever experienced.
Parenting kids not born to us is a nice spotlight to see how imperfect we are 😅 I mean, parenting in general highlights our impatience, selfishness, low tolerance, it reveals trauma that may have been buried for years.
When parenting children not born to us (IMO parenting any kid ever), understanding TBRI is crucial.
In 2014 I figured a closed adoption was all I’d be willing to be a part of. It would be too confusing for a child to have BOTH families in their life. What if they tried to kidnap MY kid back?? I was sure I knew all about it.
Then I started reading & educating myself. LOL joke was on me because really quickly I realized my (falsely placed) confidence in what I “knew” was...so off.
I’ve been telling this to him since the first week I held him. It started as practice convos for many things, but especially for sharing with him the start of his life.
The point is we can start as early as the day we meet them, telling them their story. Secrecy breeds shame & our kids deserve their story.
“We don’t support adopting {an infant} while pregnant. If you’re pregnant, agencies won’t allow you to adopt. Virtual twinning is frowned upon.”
We had driven an hour to her Beaverton office for our final home study visit. We’d soon receive our official home study license & immediately submit our applications to 5 agencies across the nation + apply for a number of grants. 3 days later I’d test ➕ for pregnancy.
I was so nervous to add kahlil 😭
Sage + Ira had been my permanent babies my whole motherhood, I didn’t even realize how much anxiety I had about what adding a bio babe might do.
Foster & adoptive mamas:
Whether your child was in your arms immediately after delivery or as a teenager, you can assume there is some layer of adoption trauma + loss.
I can tend to overwhelm my kids with heavier emotions & realities. It’s something I have to pay really close attention to, intentionally mother in the tension of honesty + age-appropriate conversations.
I believe part of the responsibility as foster & adoptive parents is helping change the narrative; for our kids. Lonnggg ago we created a narrative of saving & rescuing children from the Big Bad Wolf Parents, scooping them up meeting our own want & desire to become parents.
✨ save this as affirmations for your child ✨ I asked you what you want your child who was adopted to know, to their core. The resounding answer from dozens of you was: you are worthy, you are enough, you are loved, you can feel however you feel about your adoption.
I’m Natalie & I’ve got 3 baby daddies. JK, kinda. I missed #fridayintroductions because whose keeping tabs on what day it is?
Over the last month I’ve lost 500+ followers but welcomed 600 new ppl to our little community! My side part & ripped skinny jeans genuinely welcome you.
When I had 5 kids, 4 of them biracial/Black, I was constantly given opportunities to practice responding to comments & questions.
My throat physically closes in on itself when asked or trying to be truly vulnerable & state my deepest needs. I find myself rubbing my neck, trying to squeeze the air through, sure the unsafe space is going to choke me. My whole body feels heavy and empty all at once, I want to dissolve into thin air and escape, hoping my inability to speak will make me invisible. I’d categorize this as the freeze response.
Oftentimes relationships change after we adopt & begin fostering... it’s unexpected. And it’s largely due to comments & questions from friends/family and not knowing how to educate them.
I had over 70 responses from adoptive + foster mamas sharing what they wish non-foster/adoptive parents knew.
Hey mama, if your children do not see you handling your own emotional burdens, they will not trust you can handle theirs.
Our kids have emotional burdens, no matter how wonderfully we (think we & want to) show up for them. Our kids are wise & intuitive.
All the moms I know would do anything necessary for their kids. If they needed to take a bullet, they would. If they need to skip meals in order to make sure their kids bellies get full, they do. We want to give our kids everything they need to brave living.
So when an entire generation of adoptees are shouting “Listen to me, here is my voice & experiences & pain,” I think “Wow, I want to listen & learn & do better. I want to understand.”
The first time I held you was the beginning of my healing. But first you had to break me. The truth is, you keep breaking me.
It’s in the breaking I find healing, though. I’m convinced it’s the most painful breakages that provide space for the deepest grace.
Adoption breaks a family before it ever makes one.
Understanding trauma explosions + outbursts is necessary if we want to be good foster + adoptive moms!
I have had the privilege of really experiencing some intensity in this arena for some years. My evenings after the boys go down for bed are 99.9% of the time spent reading books + rewatching videos from Karyn Purvis on YouTube.
Adoptive + Foster Mamas! Let’s talk about COCOONING. Baby wearing. Attachment.
Every journey is different, but being aware of these realities is important.
Who cocooned? Who baby wore? Who plans to?
They smash any belief that brothers must share blood. Their brotherhood bond defies societal standards, on the daily.
They re-entered their part time daycare/preschool and their teacher asked me if they ever fight at home 😂😂 I stared at her shocked, perplexed, but then I smiled because isnt that what we want?! For our kids not to behave like terrorists in the outside world? 😂 if you watched our home you’d see them fighting and kicking and spitting and yelling and crying A LOT.
