The first time I encountered my son’s birth mother, she shot me a fierce glare. I was taken aback; it was intimidating. This meeting was unplanned—an accidental encounter during a visit when the supervisor had briefly stepped out. She was accustomed to navigating the child services system, having spent her own childhood in foster care. In her eyes, the county and I were adversaries.
I hate to admit it, but I was indifferent to her struggles. My focus was on her son—rightfully so—but I failed to recognize the emotional turmoil she was experiencing. Instead, I lost myself in judgment.
My husband and I had not intended to adopt; we were fostering simply because we were in a position to help. As newcomers, we were unprepared for the emotional roller coaster of foster parenting. Our certification took longer than expected—11 months in total. On the day we were certified, we requested a placement for one child, ideally under the age of six. We were eager to create a positive experience. However, by 3 p.m. that same day, a one-month-old infant was at our doorstep, flipping our plans upside down.
As the case progressed, we faced the typical hurdles: court hearings, psychological assessments, and visits with parents—some of which the birth mother didn’t attend. Though I didn’t see her often, I tried to be friendly and supportive. My primary concern was the fear of losing her son. I often thought, “She doesn’t deserve him,” and “She should have made better choices.” I became consumed by my judgments.
Things shifted about eight months into the case when she entered a residential program aimed at helping her achieve sobriety and work on her safety plan. Despite her significant progress, I still found myself judging her harshly.
By then, the visits had become routine. I would text the supervisor when we arrived, and she would take the baby inside. After visits, she would bring him back to my car. Occasionally, I’d catch the birth mother’s hostile gaze through the window—until one day changed everything.
The night before, there had been flowers at dinner in her residential home. After her visit the following day, I was startled to see her carrying the baby out to my car. As we approached each other, she handed me the baby, along with a small bouquet of flowers tied with string, saying, “I want to honor you and thank you. Happy Mother’s Day.”
That moment shook me deeply. We were overwhelmed with emotion, embracing and shedding tears together. For the first time, I truly saw her—her vulnerability, her fear, and her grief. I was so moved by her kindness that I instantly realized I should have been her supporter from the start. From that day forward, our relationship transformed. I began to look forward to seeing her, celebrating the milestones our son achieved together. I even created a photo album documenting his first year. She started feeling like family, and I found myself torn between wanting her to succeed and fearing the loss of our son.
While that moment remains a cherished memory, I also carry guilt for not reaching out first. I admire her strength in approaching me. She had overcome so much, and although she still faced challenges, her resilience shone through. I began to see these same qualities in my son, and it made me proud that he would carry these traits with him.
That day marked the end of my judgment not just of her but of all birth mothers I encountered during our three years as foster parents. Understanding her humanity revealed to me how alike we are; many of us are fortunate to have stable upbringings, and I recognized how easily my own path could have mirrored hers.
Foster parenting is tough, filled with emotional highs and lows that can dizzy even the most stable of individuals. My husband and I emerged from our journey with an adopted son, nine other children forever in our hearts, a wealth of love, and a newfound understanding.
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Summary:
The author reflects on their journey as a foster parent and their initial judgments toward their son’s birth mother. A pivotal moment occurs when the birth mother expresses gratitude, prompting the author to see her struggles and humanity. This leads to a transformation in their relationship and a deeper understanding of the complexities of foster care and maternal resilience.