So God Made a Mother Collection ➔

When my beautiful and perfect baby boy was just a few months old, I was at the grocery store picking up a prescription. The pharmacist said it would be about 15 minutes until the prescription was ready, so I decided to pick up a couple of other things we needed.

As I was pushing our cart down the aisle, a woman I vaguely knew (she had worked at a store I used to shop at with my grandma) stopped me to admire my son. After gushing over how handsome and sweet he was, she excitedly told me she remembered when I was pregnant with him.

There was one problem. I have never been pregnant. My son is adopted.

When I quickly corrected her and told her I became a mom through adoption, she told me one day I could be “blessed for real” because she had a friend who had adopted and later become pregnant.

RELATED: 3 Lessons I Learned After Adopting

Tears started streaming down my face as I abruptly ended our conversation. It took me a lot longer than 15 minutes to get back to the pharmacy as I pushed my son in the cart around the store, trying to pull myself together.

I wasn’t crying because I have never been pregnant.

I was crying because this woman switched from admiring my son to brushing off adoption as an inferior way to become a mom. I would only be “blessed for real” in her eyes if I were to experience a pregnancy.

I wish I could say this is the first and last time I’ve encountered this attitude, but sadly, it is not.

I heard it even before I became an adoptive parent, oddly enough in a fertility charting class. The instructors told us that so many couples they knew became pregnant after adopting, because the stress of trying to conceive was over, solving the infertility problem.

I heard it the week I found out my son was coming home, from a friend who said that surely this would be the month I became pregnant since I was adopting. 

I heard it at the first block party our street had after my son came home from a neighbor who told me there was “still hope” that I could become pregnant.

The thing is, I am not grieving the fact I never became pregnant. I am so happy I got to adopt my son. And I would do another adoption all over again.

RELATED: Adoption is Love

Adoption was never a second best option for me. When I prayed for a child, I prayed for either adoption or pregnancy. It didn’t matter.

When I wasn’t getting pregnant, I did see doctors for infertility, but we also started the process of working with an adoption agency.

After I had laparoscopic surgery for endometriosis, the week I was recovering from surgery I was also actively working on our adoption home study. We were in the middle of the home study process and I had one of my required meetings with our social worker at the adoption agency, and also had a fire inspector out to our house to complete another requirement for it. I didn’t wait to pursue every possible infertility treatment before starting the adoption process. I didn’t need to, because I was happy to become a mom either way God would bless me with a child.

If an adoptive parent is grieving not experiencing a pregnancy, that is OK. I also know of families who have biological children who dreamed about adopting a child, but it never happened. And it’s OK if they grieve the missed experience of adoption.

RELATED: God is in the Details: An Adoption Story

But it’s never OK to assume an adoptive parent is grieving not becoming pregnant— because some, like me, are not. I would be happy if I were to get pregnant. But I won’t be unhappy if I never get pregnant.  

I may never have had the chance to surprise my husband with the news we were pregnant.

I did however get to shock him with the news we were matched with a baby born over the weekend, and our child could be coming home very soon.

I may never have done a cute gender reveal where people bit into cookies or cupcakes to find out if pink or blue filling was inside.

I do know what it’s like to be so excited at finding out I’m going to be a mom that after getting off the phone with the adoption agency I realize I think they said the baby was a boy—but I was not 100 percent and needed to call back to be sure. Luckily the social worker laughed when I called back, and it probably wasn’t the first time she dealt with an overly excited mom who forgot an important detail.

I don’t know what it’s like to post a creative announcement on Facebook about a baby coming months from now.

I do know what it’s like to surprise people with an adorable new family picture that shows a baby who is already here.

RELATED: Considering Adoption? Lean In.

I don’t know what it’s like to run into people who are excited to see that I’m pregnant and ask when I am due.

I do know what it’s like to be pushing a baby stroller through the neighborhood and have neighbors rush over and shriek with excitement that there’s a new neighbor on the street.

The experiences I had leading up to my son coming home were not the same as they would have been if I had been pregnant.  

But they were no less special.

And the love I feel for my son, and all the experiences we have shared together, have made me “blessed for real.” 

Kimberly Keys

Kimberly is a stay-at-home Mom to her precious son who joined our family through the miracle of adoption. She loves watching her toddler discover new things, especially when exploring the parks around her hometown of Cleveland, Ohio. Besides being published on Her View From Home, she's also written about her experience from her twelve year IT career for Zapier as a freelance writer for their blog.

To the Emotional Mom of a High School Senior, Enjoy It

In: Grown Children, Motherhood, Teen
Teen girl in graduation gown, color photo

Dear moms of high school seniors, I see your posts on social media, and I sense your excitement, mixed with anxiety and a bit of sadness (if we are being completely honest). I notice your photos of all the lasts, and I celebrate your child’s accomplishments with you. I see you, and I know you because I have been you, twice now.  I feel the almost palpable sinking feeling that hits in the pit of your stomach when you think about them moving on to the next stage. How is it possible they have grown from such a tiny, helpless...

Keep Reading

I Know My Friends Aren’t Bothered by My Messy House, but I Am

In: Friendship, Living, Motherhood
Sad woman by laundry pile

My house screams at me. It screams to clear off the kitchen counters, to put away the clean clothes, to organize the shoe collection in our entry, to gather up the scattered toys, to sweep the crumbs up, to place the throw pillows back on the couch, to clean off the table—you get the idea. Everything in my sight speaks volumes to the state it does not want to be in, for the chaos it is imposing.  Keeping home is a labor of love and never of balance for me. Everything that is cleaned, made, or organized will always get...

Keep Reading

I’ll Never Be Ready for My Son To Let Go of Me

In: Motherhood, Tween
Tween boy and mom

The arts-and-crafts tote overflowed with cylinders of petrified Play-Doh, crispy-bristled paintbrushes, and Elmer’s glue bottles with clogged applicator tips. Underneath it sat a stack of spiral notebooks with homework from previous years: simple fractions, facts about fossils and chlorophyll, vocabulary words neatly written on blue lines. Star Wars characters were sporadically doodled in the margins.  None of its contents had been touched in years. Yet, the very second I tipped it upside down into the garbage dumpster—unwittingly blasting a flume of silver glitter into the garage ceiling—I felt deep, aching sadness and enormous regret.  When did fuzzy pipe-cleaners become nostalgia-worthy?...

Keep Reading

Dear Preschool Teachers, I’m Going to Miss You So Much

In: Child, Motherhood
preschool teacher sitting with kids on her lap

Dear preschool teachers, There’s just no other way to say this— I’m going to miss you so much. You are the first adults outside of our family to spend your days with my children, and watching your relationships grow and develop this year has been the most bittersweet privilege. I’m going to miss the bright smiles that light up your faces every time my kids come bounding toward you on good days, and how tenderly you hold their little hands and guide them away from me on the tough ones. RELATED: Dear Preschool Graduate, I’m So Proud of You I’m...

Keep Reading

There Are a Million Reasons Being a Mom Is Hard

In: Motherhood
Overwhelmed mom with child at home

Being a mom is hard.   The endless messes to clean up. The sleepless nights and sticky fingers touching everywhere. The meal prep, the nap schedule, the tantrums, the kitchen sink overflowing with dishes . . . oh, the dishes.   And then as they get older, there’s managing all the activities and the carpooling. The homework you can’t figure out. (Are you smarter than a 5th grader? The answer is no, no I’m not.)   The endless to-do list and the pressure to always put someone else’s needs before your own.  No doubt, it’s hard being a mom. But that is the obvious stuff....

Keep Reading

Don’t Let Anyone Rush You, Mama

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother with two kids at home relaxing

From the moment our children are born, other people make it challenging to stay in the present moment—they start asking questions that look forward instead of at the now we are in. Can you believe how big she’s getting, where did your newborn go? Oh my goodness, he’ll be walking any day now! Are you thinking about preschool? What will you do when they’re both in school? What will you do when your baby goes to college? While these questions may come with good intentions, they’re not helpful at all. We moms need to be allowed to be fully in...

Keep Reading

You Are So Much More than the Doubts in Your Head

In: Living, Motherhood
Little girl looking out window, color photo

Keep pushing. Push through every doubt the enemy instills in your mind.  Push through the depression. Push through the worrisome moments. Push through that anxiety that won’t let you win.  You’ve got to keep going. Keep moving forward.  You are a great mother. You are a great wife. You are a great employee and an even better friend.  RELATED: Struggling With Mental Health Makes You a Bad Mom—And Other Lies I’ve Believed Don’t get stuck in the same spot that depression has led you and those thoughts that say you aren’t good enough or worthy enough.  You are.  God says...

Keep Reading

Motherhood Is Hard Because You’re Doing It Right

In: Motherhood
mother holding young child

Before having children, I had a very romanticized idea of motherhood. Sure, I knew it would be hard. But I visualized the beautiful moments ahead: cuddling in bed with my baby in the mornings, sharing favorite books at bedtime, exploring the seashore, and jumping in puddles. I thought I would feel competent and purposeful, and yes, love every moment. What a reality check I was in for.  As a stay-at-home mom to a 3-year-old and a baby, those amazing moments felt few and far between. I felt utterly dragged down by the monotony of it all—not by the moments with...

Keep Reading

Just the Three of Us

In: Motherhood
Mother and father holding hands with daughter as they walk, color photo

On the eve of my daughter’s seventh birthday, I leaned against her doorway watching her sleep so peacefully. I roamed around my home admiring her baby photos and our little family. I blinked and my baby is growing up, and yet, the five years it took to have her felt like a decade. I remind my little girl she is a miracle when she requests a sibling. How do I explain that my body has officially retired when I couldn’t accept it myself? I was first diagnosed with endometriosis at the age of 19 and was informed I had a...

Keep Reading

Dear Child, God Sees All of You—And So Do I

In: Faith, Kids, Motherhood
Mom and young son painting together

Math has always come easily to him. Even from the beginning stages when we counted wooden blocks on the living room floor, the numbers just came to him. “How many blocks are there?” I asked him, pointing to the scattered row of blocks. I expected him to count them. He was only three or four years old. “Six,” he answered promptly. “Yes . . . but how did you know that?” I asked hesitantly. He had not taken the time necessary to have counted them. “Three and three are six,” he replied. And on it went. The math came easily,...

Keep Reading

 5 Secrets to Connect with Your Kids

FREE EMAIL BONUS

Proven techniques to build REAL connections