For years, I have wanted to share our adoption story here on the blog. I’ve wanted to tell it in a way that is respectful to my husband, and to his past. I’ve wanted to honor our daughter’s joy and the love she radiates every single day.
I’ve spoken about it in coffee shops, playgrounds, Bible studies, and to groups of women. I’ve advocated for families walking through custody battles for nearly a decade. Yet, I’ve never put it on paper, or shared it here.
I think it’s because once it’s written, it feels permanent, final.
Our story highlights a step-parent adoption, but it is not finished. Every new milestone, every brave act, every gentle word our daughter offers to the world, this is still part of our story.
The love Jesus gives us, the love we are able to share with her, and the love she gives back, this is woven through every chapter. How does the saying go? All because two people fell in love… yes, that, but a whole lot of Jesus too.
The strength to walk this path has come from God alone, and through the people He has sent as our cheerleaders, lawyers, our family, & friends. The redeeming gift of love and adoption is from Him. After all, He has adopted us, and for that, I am eternally grateful.
Adoption day was bittersweet. It was a celebration, the day it became official in the eyes of the world, the day my voice officially mattered at the doctor’s office, the school, and anywhere a parent’s signature was required. Over the years, I’ve needed that voice as an advocate for our daughter, and I thank God for it every single time. It is a gift I refuse to take for granted.
I wouldn’t be fully transparent if I didn’t tell you that it was also a day of heartache. Every adoption story begins with some brokenness.
As a woman who has been a mother, step-mother, adoptive mother, and birth mother, I can tell you this without hesitation: the love a mother has for her child is all the same, whether born in her womb or placed in her heart.
I once saw a graphic on Pinterest that said, “Parenthood requires love, not DNA.” I promise you, it’s true.
Whatever your story is, I encourage you to celebrate the pieces you can, and pray over the parts that hurt. Take comfort in believing that God does not waste our pain. He sees it all, and He loves us through it all.
We are His, and He isn’t finished with us yet.
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