We have lots to discuss, and I can’t wait to dive in. But I feel the overwhelming need to start at the beginning.

Specifically, let’s start with this important truth—

Every adoption and foster care story includes loss.
For all children and for many (if not most) parents.

It’s not a particularly fun way to start a conversation, and since you’re on this site, I’m guessing you know this already. But I want to say it clearly from the beginning so that I never leave you wondering.

If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a hundred times:

Loss is a pre-requisite on the adoption and foster care journey.

I wish with all my heart this wasn’t the case.

In fact, for years, I worked hard to deny this reality. I treated “loss” as the dirty, four-letter word of my adoption story. Primarily because I was afraid talking about the loss would signal ingratitude for all I have been given.

And I have been given a lot.

I also felt wrong acknowledging the loss in my story while so many people I love in the adoption and foster care community seemed to experience bigger, more profound losses.

But I’ve learned (maybe the hard way) that avoidance doesn’t accomplish anything good.

So I’m learning to look more deeply instead of just looking away.

After spending the past decade listening to the adoption stories of others as well as doing my own hard internal work, I’ve come to believe wholeheartedly that acknowledging loss is the right place to start.

Why does acknowledging the hard beginning matter? I can think of two reasons.

First, it’s difficult (if not impossible) to heal the things we don’t name.

Second, our pain provides the perfect breeding ground for lies to grow.

I’ve found—and maybe you have, too—that the hard parts of our stories don’t typically ruin us. But spending all our energy avoiding the hard parts of our stories can absolutely destroy us.

And so, with my very first post on this site, I want to acknowledge to you (and again to myself) that there is loss and pain in every foster and adoption story.

And acknowledging that pain is right and good.

But this is what I also want you to know:

We don’t have to stay stuck here.

There is a profound difference between acknowledging loss and making it an identity.

As firmly as I believe acknowledging our loss matters, I also believe our foster or adoption story does not need to be an ongoing source of injury in our lives.

Loss isn’t the whole story. We’re so much more than the sum of our pain. We acknowledge the loss so that we can heal. We acknowledge the loss so that it no longer has power over us or those we love.

But here’s the thing: If your foster or adoption journey is an ongoing source of pain for you, you’re not alone, and you’ve come to the right place. Together, we can move forward.

Here, you are wanted, welcomed, and deeply loved.

I believe our stories (including the hard parts) offer us an endless number of gifts if we have the courage to look a little closer. But first, we must agree on one important thing …