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.

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.

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.

I’ve been in recovery for over 10 years, and one of the biggest parts of my story is being a parent. I have three kids, and let me be honest—parenting is hard. It’s beautiful and full of love, but it can also be exhausting and overwhelming. One thing I’ve learned along the way is that taking care of myself is just as important as taking care of my kids. When I make my recovery and my well-being a priority, I’m able to show up for them with more patience, presence, and love. It’s not about being perfect—it’s about being real, and doing the best we can one day at a time. I want to share my experience because I know how much it helps to hear from others who are walking a similar path. You’re not alone in the challenges, and you’re not alone in the victories either.

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.

I found out I was adopted at age 10 when a classmate said I didn't look like my parents. My birth certificate had their names, but I found a photo of my (not pregnant) mom in Asia the day I was born. It made sense since I never felt like I fit in with them (or in the wider world). Realizing even the extended family's lies and omissions hurt—keeping up that collectivistic culture. I kept my secret from almost everyone until college. I found my birth mom on AIM and my birth dad a year later through an article online. Unfortunately, I didn't quite fit there either. I'm a bit like a Third Culture Kid, always the odd one out—human first, but everyone tries to fit me into their boxes. Mom was 19 when her mother pressured her to give me up for adoption—a combination of Catholic shame and varying skin tones. I was sad to hear that my mom and her father both wanted to keep me, but I was given up anyway. I was adopted. Trust is difficult, healing is ongoing, and identity is resilient.

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.

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.

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.

My life changed drastically since I have been reunited with my biological family. At age 24 in 1998, the reunion process, filled with ups and downs began. It started when my biological mother found me. She put clues together she had gathered from our exchange of letters written and monitored by my adoption agency. I lived in an upperclassmen dorm on campus and attended college then. It turned out she only lived one hour from me so she drove to my college town and we met that night. My bio Mom helped me connect with all members on her side of the family and led me to connect with my biological father and his side of family. I am her only child and I have two brothers and one sister r7ĺthrough my biological father. I formed close relationships with my bio parents and bio siblings. I have experienced sadness, including deaths of my bio father, paternal bio grandmother, bio uncle & maternal bio grandfather. I have experienced joy, such as being Godmother to bio niece. It balances out.