Navigating the challenges of foster/adoptive parenting of children with special needs

Amber R.

I’m a married foster/adoptive mom of three (sometimes more) children with special needs, and I’ve walked through every dark space in the foster and adoption world. My journey started when I became a foster parent with my husband in 2017, right after we got married in 2013. Growing up in an underserved community in St. Louis, I faced tremendous adversity. After my father died by suicide, I stepped up to raise my younger siblings while my mother battled mental health issues and was absent from our lives for a time. I had many mentors along the way who kept me alive and helped me stay out of trouble. Today, I run a non-profit with four other foster moms to provide support in the foster care system. Parenting children with special needs is incredibly isolating, and I’ve been through the extremes — including one of my oldest children attempting homicide. I understand how lonely it can feel when marriage, family, and friendships feel lost, and I’m here to listen and offer support, whether it’s simply holding space or providing encouragement in taking the next right step.

Navigating the challenges of special needs parenting and co-parenting through separation

Christine I.

I’ve been through a lot when it comes to parenting—raising four children, two of whom were adopted with special needs. My journey started with a very traditional upbringing, where gender roles were strictly defined. I married young and, over time, found myself taking on more of the responsibility for our children’s care, including advocating for them when they needed extra support. Unfortunately, this led to a growing disconnect between my ex and me, and we eventually separated. But through open communication and a focus on co-parenting, we’ve managed to create a positive environment for our children. Raising adopted kids, especially those with trauma, has been incredibly challenging. My son, Anthony, has severe ADHD, a history of substance exposure, and a head injury, which makes his needs complex. My daughter, Juliette, has autism, which added layers to our parenting experience. I know what it's like to feel overwhelmed and isolated, especially when you're trying to navigate the systems and support your children in ways others may not fully understand. But through it all, I’ve learned resilience. I’ve become a mentor for other parents dealing with similar struggles, whether it's understanding special education laws or finding ways to make sure their children are heard and supported. I’ve realized that advocating for my children, even through the hardest times, has made me stronger—and I want to help others do the same.

Bouncing back after a tough breakup or divorce

Davie H.

Life threw me a curveball more than once growing up with an alcoholic parent, then marrying someone who struggled with the same thing. The divorce was the final blow, but it didn’t break me. It was messy, it was painful, but it was also the beginning of a new chapter. Soon after, I found love again (yes, before the ink was even dry on the divorce papers), and suddenly, I was the proud dad of four kids: one biological, one adopted, and two stepchildren. Welcome to the world of co-parenting and blending families! I’ve leaned on a lot of things to get here, support groups like Al-Anon, therapy, and an unwavering belief in mental health (especially for men). I’ve walked the line between emotional chaos and clarity, and I know exactly what it’s like to feel overwhelmed, stuck, or uncertain about what comes next. I’ve helped other guys who are struggling with addiction, messy breakups, and the madness of co-parenting—and I’m here to tell you: you can rebuild. It might not be easy, but it is worth it.

The fertility journey after ovarian cancer

Elisabeth H.

At 17, I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, and although I was lucky to survive, I left that chapter knowing I wouldn’t be able to have biological children. At that age, I didn’t fully grasp what that meant but as I got older and dreamed of becoming a mother, the weight of that loss became more real. During my first marriage, we tried IVF a few times, hoping for a miracle, but each round ended in heartbreak. It was a lonely, emotional road filled with questions I couldn’t always answer and grief I didn’t know how to name. Eventually, we chose adoption, and I became a mom to a beautiful son who changed my world. The joy of raising him existed right alongside the complicated emotions of infertility and the life I once imagined. Over the years, I’ve supported others walking this path, especially women who are figuring out what motherhood might look like after cancer. It’s not easy to grieve what could have been while still embracing what is. If you’re navigating a fertility journey after illness, I’d be honored to hold space for your story.

The fertility journey after ovarian cancer

Elisabeth H.

At 17, I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, and although I was lucky to survive, I left that chapter knowing I wouldn’t be able to have biological children. At that age, I didn’t fully grasp what that meant but as I got older and dreamed of becoming a mother, the weight of that loss became more real. During my first marriage, we tried IVF a few times, hoping for a miracle, but each round ended in heartbreak. It was a lonely, emotional road filled with questions I couldn’t always answer and grief I didn’t know how to name. Eventually, we chose adoption, and I became a mom to a beautiful son who changed my world. The joy of raising him existed right alongside the complicated emotions of infertility and the life I once imagined. Over the years, I’ve supported others walking this path, especially women who are figuring out what motherhood might look like after cancer. It’s not easy to grieve what could have been while still embracing what is. If you’re navigating a fertility journey after illness, I’d be honored to hold space for your story.

Growing up adopted without cultural connection

Katie G.

I’m a Korean adoptee who grew up in a white family in the U.S. Without anyone around me who looked like me or understood what it meant to be Asian, I spent much of my childhood and adolescence feeling disconnected from my identity. It wasn’t until adulthood that I began actively searching for my birth family—a journey that started in 2009 and has included DNA testing, being featured on Korean national television, and even sharing my story on social media to connect with others. That search has been both empowering and deeply emotional. Navigating the complexities of adoption as an adult meant coming to terms with what I missed growing up—language, cultural understanding, and a sense of belonging. It also gave me a new lens for understanding my emotions and the grief that can live quietly in the background of adoptee experiences. I’ve had heartfelt conversations with parents of adopted kids, helping them figure out how and when to talk to their children about adoption in a way that feels honest, safe, and ongoing. I know how powerful it is to finally feel seen. I want to offer that same kind of space to anyone who’s wrestling with identity, loss, or belonging in the adoptee journey.

Navigating the complexities of adoption and parenting a blended family

Katina J.

As a parent of eight, including two children adopted from China with special needs, I’ve experienced the joys and challenges of raising a blended family. Over the years, I've supported our kids through surgeries, behavioral and attachment issues, and setting healthy boundaries. These challenges have shaped me with a deep well of empathy and resilience. I’ve learned that trust, communication, and flexibility are key in parenting, especially when blending families or parenting children with special needs. My experience as a trained hospice worker, death doula, and grief coach has also deepened my understanding of life's transitions, whether it's navigating grief or supporting a family member through loss. I've been married for nearly 30 years, and through that time, my relationship has grown stronger through communication and mutual support. Whether you're a parent facing unique challenges or dealing with a life transition, I’m here to offer perspective, support, and a listening ear. I know firsthand the power of connection and showing up for others, and I want to help you find your strength and resilience.

Navigating identity and insecurity as an adoptive parent

Kayla M.

When I adopted five siblings from foster care, I went from being a teacher to being a mom of kids who had already lived entire lifetimes before they came home. I knew love would be central, but I quickly realized that love alone didn’t erase trauma—or my own insecurities. I often questioned my role. I wasn’t their first mom, and I wasn’t sure if I ever could be. Walking through Walmart and having strangers ask, “Where are their real parents?” only deepened that ache. I’m a white woman raising Black children, and the way the world sees us doesn’t always match the way we feel like a family. In those early days, I didn’t have a roadmap. I struggled with depression and anxiety, and with the weight of parenting kids from hard places while carrying questions I didn’t know how to answer. But I sought support, learned the power of trauma-informed care, and became a TBRI Practitioner. Today, I work in advocacy and get to speak, train, and walk with others navigating this space.

Still wondering about your birth mother

Keran M.

I was adopted and had a lovely upbringing. Also, I was told as a child that I had another mother - so as I grew up, I realized that there was a biological connection that my parents knew. I never felt deceived by that truth, but it did not stop me from wondering about my biological mom. As a young teenager, I thought of how would my biological parent handle this, certainly she could understand me more and of course, why did she choose to give me away. As I grew into an adult, my parents told me more about my birth mother, letting me know that she had asked them to not tell me about her until I had graduated. At twenty years old, my initial meeting with my biological mother was a disaster - a far cry from what I had romanticized in my head. Years later, she asked to come into my life, I was hesitant but it was my mom who raised me that encouraged me to embrace the offer. Sometimes life is not as we imagine or fantasize. Maybe you can share your story - sometimes it is nice to vent.

Navigating the emotions of open adoption

Kirsten J.

I adopted my son when he was 9 months old, and he’s 10 now. Since day one, we’ve been part of an open adoption, which has been meaningful, but also incredibly layered. I've worked to support my son as he processes his adoption story and finds his place within it, while also maintaining a respectful connection to his birth family. It’s required ongoing, age-appropriate conversations that aren’t always easy—but are always important. At times, I’ve felt unsure of what to say or how to say it, especially when the emotions involved are heavy or uncertain. Adoption-related trauma doesn’t always present itself in obvious ways, but I’ve learned to recognize the subtle signs and respond with care. My training as a nurse practitioner helps me stay calm and empathetic in hard moments, both in parenting and in the support groups I’ve facilitated for adoptive parents. Open adoption is full of nuance. There’s no one-size-fits-all approach, and the emotional terrain is constantly shifting. But with openness, honesty, and connection, it can be a beautiful path and I’d love to walk alongside others who are on it.

The ins and outs of foster care parenting

Leah M.

Foster Care Parenting is a world of its own and is rewarding but has many challenges. I was first licensed in 2009 as a foster group home allowing up to 12 children in my home. I had 5 of my own birth children and 2 stepchildren at the time. We went through the licensing process because my (then husband) and I were interested in adopting a sibling group of 3 who needed a home. The kids were able to be adopted before we got licensed and the agency convinced us to do foster care. Our goal was not to ‘collect’ more kids as we already had 7 between us. We decided to go ahead and provide foster care so we could provide a stable and loving family and home for the kids until they can return home. Our goal was not to adopt; however, we were not totally against it either. Foster Care parenting is rewarding in that you can impact the children with unconditional love, acceptance, belonging, life lessons and personal goals, family time, insight, teach self-care, give opportunities that they never had before, and on and on. The children in foster care need people like my family to love them through the hard times that they are currently facing. With all of this comes initial challenges like an overwhelming number of appointments, registering them for school, buying many essential items as they usually only come with their school backpack, and helping them adjust to their new reality of being in our home for an unknown amount of time, etc. The biggest challenges I faced were keeping up with my own self-care, dealing with the adolescent's attitudes and some extreme behaviors while keeping my own emotions in check, agency paperwork due monthly (Ugh), taking them to weekly visitations, having case workers from DFPS and from our foster care agency in our home monthly, inspections, trainings, trainings, trainings, and so much more. Again, I will emphasize that it is rewarding and challenging and if you are not careful you can go into exhaustion and burnout. I closed my home February 2025 after having a total of 21 children in my care throughout the years. I have experience and I would love to help you through the challenges you may be facing.

Parenting with respect and presence from the start

Peter L.

I was drawn to the RIE approach because it starts with something I deeply believe: babies are whole people from the very beginning. They deserve respect — not just care, but partnership. When I became a parent, I realized how easy it is to rush through the hard moments or distract a child to keep things smooth. RIE taught me to slow down. To treat diaper changes, meals, and bedtime not as chores, but as chances to connect. To talk to my child, include them, and trust their natural pace of development. Instead of constantly entertaining or managing behavior, I began to observe, to listen, to wonder. This shift changed everything: my child became more confident and engaged, and I felt calmer and more present. RIE isn’t about perfection; it’s about building a relationship based on trust — “I see you, I hear you, and your feelings matter.”

The emotional challenges of adopting a child and the grief of losing them despite your best efforts

Sheridan W.

Adopting a child was one of the most meaningful decisions I ever made. I was filled with hope, thinking I could provide a safe, loving home and a fresh start. But I didn’t fully understand how complex the emotional journey would be. My adopted child came to me with deep, unhealed wounds: pain from their past, a sense of not belonging, and emotional struggles that I couldn’t always reach. I poured all of my love into trying to help them, but no matter how much I gave, it never seemed enough. The hardest part was watching them struggle with mental health and addiction, trying everything I could to support them. I spent countless sleepless nights worrying, seeking therapy, and finding ways to be there for them in the best way I knew. But despite my efforts, they couldn't overcome their inner pain. The grief and guilt of feeling like I couldn't “fix” what was broken in them weighed heavily on me. In the end, after years of struggle, I faced the heartbreaking loss of my child. The grief was all-consuming, and I was left with the deep sorrow of knowing that, no matter how much love I gave, it wasn’t enough to save them from their own battles. It’s a pain that words can’t fully capture, but I want others who are going through something similar to know they’re not alone. If you’re struggling with the pain of trying to help an adopted child who feels unreachable, I’m here to listen and offer support.

Staying connected in marriage through life’s toughest seasons

Steve P.

My partner and I have been together for 17 years, married for 11, and we’ve been through just about every kind of high and low together. We met when I was living in Greece, and after moving to the U.S. during the market crash, life shifted quickly. Over time we built a life, a home, and a business together. But then COVID hit, and everything came crashing down—our finances took a huge hit, and at the same time, my wife was undergoing emergency brain surgery. It was one of the darkest, most uncertain times we’ve ever faced. There were moments when the stress fractured our connection, but we didn’t give up. We leaned on counseling, each other, and our shared commitment to grow—not just survive. That season taught us how to be stronger together, even when things felt like they were falling apart. Since then, we’ve adopted our teenage daughter from abroad, which brought its own beautiful challenges and growth. Our bond has deepened in ways I couldn’t have imagined back when we were first building this life.

What it means to truly choose a child as your own (adoption)

Vanessa S.

I was just 18 when I adopted my first child. Some people told me I was too young. Others told me I’d never love him the same as I would a “child of my own.” But the moment I became his mother, I knew something they didn’t. That love isn’t about blood. Love is a choice. And I chose him, fully. That child showed me what true love is. He softened me. He matured me. He made me want to be better in every possible way. Years later, I gave birth to two more children. I can honestly say this: my love for my adopted son is no different than the love I have for the children I carried. He's not “like” my son. He is my son. Always has been. Always will be. Adoption gave me purpose. It shaped the mother I became. And if you’ve adopted, are thinking about it, or are navigating the complexities of blended or non-traditional families. I’d love to hold space for that with you.