“The moment my baby was placed in my arms is a memory I’ll never lose. She was completely covered in black hair, had red markings on her face from the tape used to keep her feeding tube in place, and was quite comfortable. But it took me years to realize that she was going to be my daughter. And her original mother handed her over to me.
Appointed For Adoption
Retrace our steps to the beginning. I’ve always known that I wanted to adopt in some way. At an early age, God had placed something on my heart. We talked about adoption and agreed it would be a part of our family plan when I eventually started dating my longtime church camp buddy, whom I ultimately married.
I attended college to become a social worker and worked for Child Protective Services as a child abuse investigator. I learned about the foster care system via that experience. My husband and I both had grandparents who fostered and had acquaintances who were foster parents. We realized that God was asking us to care for a kid in our house until they could be reunited with their family, and if that couldn’t happen, to make our home available to adopt them.
We anticipated having a few biological kids first, and then adopting or fostering our final child. But when we had trouble getting pregnant, God put a kink in that carefully thought-out plan. Due to my polycystic ovarian condition diagnosis, we learned that our chances of becoming pregnant “the old-fashioned way” were extremely slim. Thanks to modern treatment and prayers, we had our eldest son, Elijah, in 2017.
We first discussed growing our family when Elijah was around 15 months old. We weren’t sure if God was calling us to start fostering or if we wanted to pursue reproductive treatments once again. We discussed a lot of things. I prayed fervently and talked about it with several close friends and family members.
Taking on Foster Parenting
The next day, while I was traveling down the motorway, I prayed to God to make it obvious what we should do next. I was pleading with him to guide our family along the road he had planned for us. I spotted a road sign while I was praising God. It was a billboard advertising the need for foster parents for the organization my acquaintance had told me about the previous evening.
I felt as though God had struck me in the head with a frying pan. We began the process of becoming a licensed foster family at the end of that week, and we had planned orientation with the agency.
We decided to become foster parents in order to love them, protect them, and help them reunite with their birth families. We anticipated adopting a child who couldn’t be reunited at some time in the future. However, I reasoned that if we started when our kid was this age, they’d have a great age difference by the time we adopted a child.
Our Initial Position
When I received the SMS for our first placement, I was at home relaxing. Our licensor said that the agency received a contact from the county at 2:30 p.m. regarding a newborn baby girl. It was a little after 2 p.m. It briefly explained her placement in care and enquired about our interest. I made a call to my spouse, and we decided to accept.
Even though we probably wouldn’t receive her (because everyone wants newborns), I advised him to say yes even though we initially didn’t want any babies. When our first placement call came through, I believe I was trigger-happy.
I received a phone call from our licensor a few minutes after 2:30. I was aware they didn’t call to inform you that you weren’t selected. I hastily scribbled down the limited data they had available about her and learned that she would be leaving the NICU in two days.
Our licensor later contacted me, saying that the mother of the infant girl was interested in meeting my husband and me. She was curious about who would be looking after her daughter. I felt equally terrified and happy.
We met her at the children’s hospital a few days later. We had a mediator who worked on our case. When I replied that I was a stay-at-home mum, the mother appeared happy. I was asked whether I would want to hold infant Ariana. I affirmed.
Her mother allowed me to see them as frequently as I wanted while I cuddled this little, adorable newborn girl who was wired up to monitors. She said that she wished Ariana and me to become close so that she would feel more at ease before discharge. At this time, the discharge had been postponed for a few days.
Courtesy of Annmarie Jordan
I felt such honor. I visited Ariana and her mother for several hours in that NICU room. We discussed our personal lives. We exchanged tales. And when Ariana’s mother did a few errands, I got to spend some time with her alone.
When the nurses entered, they remarked on how uncommon it was for a foster mother and birth mother to get along so well. She was just as gracious to me even though I’m sure I was to her and respected her in her capacity as Ariana’s mother.
Her mother delivered her daughter to me on discharge day while crying. I can still hear myself begging myself to remain composed even though I was literally breaking within. It wasn’t meant to be like this.
I instantly adored this kid and couldn’t wait to bring her home from the chilly hospital. However, it was this that formally placed Ariana in the foster care system.
My husband and I left the hospital with bags of items her mother had given us, and a kid we hadn’t even known existed just days earlier.
Getting Used to Our Position
I sent images and updates through text to Ariana’s mother frequently. We got along well when she came with me to my doctor’s appointments. Nevertheless, despite how well we got along, we were still a part of the unpleasant and flawed foster care system.
It was really tough to send Ariana to go for twice-weekly supervised visits. The mama bear in me wanted to protect her even though I was aware of her safety and could not know what was happening on each visit.
My days were dispersed between house visits, specialized appointments for Ariana, court appearances, and supervised visitation. As the months passed, it became apparent that the likelihood of a happy reunion was decreasing.
Courtesy of Annmarie Jordan
The courts formally shifted the objective from reunion to termination of parental rights and adoption in February 2020. Her mother’s parental rights were to be terminated during a hearing in May 2020. Then, everything stopped. Covid altered how we carried out every task.
When Ariana was one and a half years old, we were abruptly forced to have virtual visits with her mother rather than in-person ones. In an effort to keep her interested during our twice-weekly Facetime chats with her mother, I chased a rambunctious child around our house.
The termination hearing was repeatedly postponed since court sessions were not taking place in person. We continued to arrange visits as long as her mother maintained legal standing and she was still able to pursue her case plan with due process.
I was inconsolable. The situation had grown so obvious that the result was certain. However, each hiccup added to Ariana’s period of uncertainty while in foster care. In an effort to convince myself that God’s time is perfect, I held to Him with all my might and prayed.
Courtesy of Annmarie Jordan
Debating Whether We Are Willing To Foster Another
A few months later, in-person visits resumed. When I saw her mother for the first time in months, I assumed she was pregnant. I mentioned it to the caseworker, who verified in July that Ariana’s birth mother was expecting a newborn boy.
Previously, my husband and I had planned to take a long vacation from fostering following Ariana’s alleged adoption. Foster care is draining. Your life and schedule appear to be centered around the agency and your birth parents. We needed to take a break. However, the pregnancy altered everything.
My spouse and I couldn’t agree on what to do. He replied no, and I said yes, we should accept the baby’s placement if he came into foster care. Many tears were shed as a result of this choice.
Could we look after another child? Could we raise three children aged three and under? If not, might we be the reason biological siblings cannot be reared together? If we say no, would the agency hunt for another family to adopt them both?
In the end, we chose to accept. And I give God praise every day that Covid postponed Ariana’s lawsuit. I want to think that we would have accepted the child regardless of the circumstances, but I’m not sure we would have if we hadn’t physically seen their mother become pregnant and had more time to think about it.
The end of August 2020 saw the birth of Easton. Because of the peculiar nature of his situation, CPS chose to transfer his hospitalization to another party. Many of the specifics of that choice remain unknown to us, but I was filled with worry because of it. If he was supposed to be with this person, that was OK, but I pleaded with God to keep him safe.
Courtesy of Annmarie Jordan
To determine whether Easton should stay with this individual or enter foster care, CPS used a blind review panel. I felt nauseous to my stomach. I prayed to God for calm while I lay on my sofa, asking him to make whatever choice would be best for Easton.
My phone rang as I was praying. Our organization informed us that Easton would be placed in foster care and requested our assistance. I firmly said, “Yes!”
Courtesy of Annmarie Jordan
Having Five Members as a Family
A CPS representative arrived in my driveway a short while later. I ran outside to greet this adorable child. I had received a few images of him from his mother, but I was itching to hold him. He was so little that he could wear preemie clothing. Like his sister, he had a full head of hair. We instantly became a family of five.
Courtesy of Annmarie Jordan
The hearing to revoke mom’s custody of Ariana took place the following month. It was not a happy day, despite this being the situation’s best option and the beginning of giving Ariana permanence.
I completely agree with my friend when she said that termination hearings are like funerals. The parents’ every failing, obstacle, and error is read aloud in open court. Even though it served as a reminder of how clear it was that this had to happen, it doesn’t make the situation any less tragic.
Courtesy of Annmarie Jordan
As a result, while working towards Ariana’s adoption, Easton’s primary focus—as it is in most situations for the first year or so—was the reunion. He was driven to his twice-weekly supervised visitation with his mother by a large number of agency employees.
Specialist medical appointments, visitations, and home visits continued to be a regular occurrence in our life. I found it challenging to enthusiastically work on Ariana’s adoption while simultaneously supporting a plan for Easton’s reunion.
Courtesy of Annmarie Jordan
Completing the adoption
We completed our daughter’s adoption in April 2021. Nothing changed, despite everything changing. She did have our last name, indeed. Yes, I am legally allowed to give her a haircut and transport her over state borders. However, daily life remained unchanged.
Since she was a week old, I have essentially been her mother. I continued to chase her around the yard, chop up her hot dogs, and snuggle her into bed at night. However, I felt at ease since I understood that she would be here forever.
Courtesy of Annmarie Jordan
In Easton’s case, the objective was shifted from reunion to termination and adoption that summer. And in March 2022, following many covid-related delays, rights were terminated. In September 2022, we were able to finalize his adoption.
Courtesy of Annmarie Jordan
In some respects, I believe I idolized adoption. I yearned for the freedom to decide what was best for my children without having to consult the agency or their original family. I wish to know that my children will live with us always. Even while all of it is true, adoption is only the start.
Trauma, foster care, and being removed from their original mother have all left an impression on my adopted children. An adoption certificate won’t help you overcome trauma. A great deal of work still needs to be done, but it can contribute to healing and permanence.
Courtesy of Annmarie Jordan
Looking back, I still find it hard to believe I had three kids. The wildest, strangest ride I’ve ever been on is the roller coaster of foster care. I can’t believe I subjected myself to this voluntarily. But I struggle to think of another course of action. No matter how they came into my life, these three children are my own. I feel privileged that God made me their mommy.
Lean into it if you feel the least bit of a pull to become a foster family. Consider praying about it. Speak to more foster families. Attend a training session. It is both the weirdest and finest thing I’ve ever done. And we may have missed everything if we hadn’t said yes.
Courtesy of Annmarie Jordan
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