The first encounter I had with my son’s birth mother was quite daunting. With a fierce expression, she eyed me, making it clear that I was an unwelcome presence. This was my initial experience with foster care, and our “introduction” happened unexpectedly during a visit when the supervisor had briefly stepped away. Having grown up in the foster system herself, she was well-acquainted with the complexities of child services and viewed both the county and me as adversaries.
I regret to admit that I was indifferent to her feelings. My focus was solely on her child, as it should have been, yet I failed to recognize the enormity of her struggle. Instead, I spent my time judging her actions and circumstances.
My husband and I had not intended to adopt; we fostered simply because we were able to lend a hand. As newcomers, we were unaware of the emotional turbulence that often accompanies foster parenting. The certification process took us longer than expected—11 months. On the day we received our certification, we communicated to our worker that we were interested in fostering one child, ideally under the age of 6. We believed this would set us up for success. However, by the end of that very day, we found ourselves with a 1-month-old baby at our doorstep, changing our lives forever.
Our case proceeded through the usual channels: court hearings, psychological assessments, and visits with parents—some of which were no-shows. I didn’t encounter the birth mother frequently, but when I did, I aimed to be cordial and supportive. My primary concern was the fear of losing her son. I often thought, “She didn’t deserve him,” and “She should have made better choices.” My secondary role of judging her occupied every moment I could spare.
A significant shift occurred about eight months into the case when she entered a residential program designed to aid her in achieving sobriety and adhering to her safety plan—elements that she had previously neglected. Despite her commendable progress, I continued to judge her harshly.
By that point, our visitations had become routine. I would notify the visit supervisor upon arriving at the location, and she’d take the baby in for the visit. Afterward, she would return the child to my car. Occasionally, I would catch a glimpse of the birth mother glaring at me through the window—until one day, everything changed. The previous evening, during dinner at the residential facility, the tables were adorned with flowers. My son’s birth mother had asked if she could take some home. The next day, after her visit, I was astonished to see her emerging with the baby and a small bouquet tied with twine. She approached me and said, “I want to honor you and thank you. Happy Mother’s Day.”
That heartfelt moment shook me to my core. We were both overwhelmed with emotion, embracing and crying together. For the first time since this journey began, I truly saw her—her vulnerability, fears, and grief. I was deeply moved by her gesture and finally embraced the supportive role I should have adopted from the very start. From that day on, my perspective shifted; I began to look forward to our encounters and sharing milestones related to the baby. I even created a photo album chronicling his first year, and she felt like family to me, evoking a mix of emotions as I grappled with my desire to keep our son and my wish for her success.
As tender as that experience was, I often reflect on it with guilt and shame. I regret that I didn’t reach out first, and I admire her courage to connect with me in such a profound way. She has surmounted so many challenges in her life, and despite her ongoing struggles, she remains resilient and strong. I see these same qualities emerging in my son, and I feel a sense of pride in knowing he carries a piece of her with him.
That pivotal day marked the beginning of my journey to stop judging her and every other birth mother I encountered during our three years as foster parents. Witnessing her vulnerability revealed how alike we truly are. It made me appreciate the stability I had growing up and understand how my life could have mirrored hers under different circumstances.
Foster parenting is a challenging path. The emotional highs and lows can leave even the most stable individuals feeling unsteady. My husband and I emerged from our foster care experience with an adopted son and nine other children forever etched in our hearts, accompanied by a wealth of love and a significantly reduced capacity for judgment. For more insights on parenting and fertility, check out this resource on fertility boosters for men or learn more about home insemination.
In summary, my journey through foster parenting transformed my perceptions and allowed me to empathize deeply with the birth mothers I encountered. It taught me invaluable lessons about compassion, understanding, and shared humanity.