I’m a mom with a foot in two worlds. One foot is in the homeschool world, and one in public school.

My four oldest are homeschooled. I’m on the board of our co-op and volunteer in our local volleyball league where my oldest two are involved. My husband coaches.

My two youngest are in public school. I have my MA in elementary education and get a rush walking into a school building. I know the good that happens in these buildings because there are so many kids who find safety and security in those walls. My littles are flourishing there. Due to trauma, their ability to flourish in academics needs more support than I can give, and I trust these sweet teachers and interventionists.

I love going to a volleyball game where everyone there loves Jesus and is there to glorify Him in their play. I love leading a co-op where we pray and where my kids can find security while developing lifelong and familial friendships. I love leading field trips, meeting new people, and making connections.

I also love walking into a school building, passing the kindergarten class, and giving little high-fives to three of those babies because I know them from our sweet church and community. I love sitting in SAT meetings for my first graders and having a mutual appreciation with the people who are trying to help me get my trauma babies where they need to be. I love volunteering for book fairs, and class parties, and being able to take a few deep breaths waiting for them ALONE in the school pick-up line.

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One foot is in the biological family world, and one is in adoption. I hear things all the time about my 14-year-old looking like his dad’s twin and our 12-year-old and 8-year-old being mine. Clearly, I don’t get that with my three beautiful, dark-skinned babies. Mostly, we get “Are all those yours?” and we lovingly say yes, letting them think what they want. Different Daddies? Adoption? Whatever they want.

There’s a reality that we’re raising two separate families. One group is securely attached and for the most part, ready to take on the world. They’re by no means mature enough, but they’re where they need to be.

I have three more children who miss their biological parents and family, who know we try to connect with the biological family that is safe and alive as much as possible, who are not fully secure, but hopefully will be someday. I try to pour into these three children but they have holes—places that my husband and I can’t fill.

There are days I feel guilty for missing beautiful moments with our biological children because of the work I must put into their adopted siblings. There are days when I feel guilty for becoming numb, exhausted, and needing a break.

But through these two different worlds, I’ve learned something that may unite us as mothers. We all love our children, and we all are doing our best. By all, I mean pretty much all. Rare is the mom who desires to feed her kids to wolves, who desires to see them suffer, who loathes her own offspring and wishes them harm.

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Whether a momma homesteads and homeschools or works a 9-5 and sends her kids to public school plus after-school programs . . . whether a mom bears her own children or adopts . . . whether a mom struggles to parent due to PTSD, bipolar, anxiety, depression, or yes, substance abuse disorder or not . . . whether a mom feeds her kids McD’s or vegan . . . there is love for her children. Not only that, but God’s love is there waiting for her as well.

So, dear momma, if you’ve scrolled to much Insta or FB lately, if you’ve had too many people cluck their tongue at you, or if you, like me, have thought, “Where in the world is all my support! No one can do this alone, right?!“

Know this. You love your kids. They’re going to be okay. Even if you’re doing everything your next-door neighbor disagrees with, you’re still what they need. From a mom whose foot is in both worlds, I see you. I hear you. Your kids are going to be better than fine.