I wrote this post in February earlier this year and edited today to reflect my heart ten months later.
I’m their mom, and she’s their mom.
She carried them in her body, and I carry them deep in my heart.
She fought so hard for them, as best she could; I advocated for their safety to the best of my ability on the “other side.”
One decision from the judge brought relief to me and grief to her.
When a judge terminates parental rights, it means the severing of something divinely precious. How do I rejoice when she is heartbroken? I want to honor her and to grieve with her. And yet, right now, a big part of my heart longs to rejoice for our family.
I’m learning that it is okay, natural even, for a foster or adoptive mama to simultaneously live in the sorrowful-night with the other-mama, while still allowing myself to be in the rejoicing-morning for our family, my children. I consider it an honor, a gift, to feel the weight of her heart like I do. I don’t want to close down my feelings on her behalf or to push her aside. It is an honor to be a mother alongside her–for both of us to love these children of our hearts.
We are mothers. Together.
Read more about our foster journey HERE: “But in the years since our family expanded, I have settled into a more content place that recognizes first: God is sovereign, and second: a difference in one life is difference enough.”
