A mom to a newly adopted 6-year-old shared her raw and very real feelings on her journey to parenthood on our Creating a Family Facebook Support Group. With her permission, we share them with you.

Transitioning from infertility treatment to adoptive parenting can feel strange. One mom's thoughts on the changes.


I was sitting listening to a song called Blacklist by John Moreland when this lyric hit me like a ton of bricks:

“This sure ain’t how I thought that it would feel – to finally have made it.”

I’ve been feeling lost. Lost from myself, like I don’t recognize this person I am anymore. I’ve been attributing it being a new Mom to a six-year-old overnight, without warning. A process that I thought would take 3 to 4 more years is done; she is here. I am a Mom.

So, if I made it (“you prayed for this,” my husband reminds me when I complain of how tired I am), then how come I don’t feel ecstatic the whole time? How come I still feel lost? How come I don’t feel like myself anymore?

I’ve been finding the answer to that, and it is perplexing. I don’t envy the families enjoying a meal together at a restaurant anymore. I see movies about families, and I don’t have this feeling of not belonging anymore. I listen to those songs that reminded me of everything I did not have, and they don’t make me sad anymore. Nothing. There is nothing of those old familiar feelings I used to have.

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Coming to Terms with Infertility Grief Before You Adopt

The inability to form a family has been embedded in me, as part of who I am for so long. For 15 long years, I have been this person, a family of 2, childless. My mind and my heart were prepared for losing battle after battle. I was a warrior knowing the odds were against me, and all my strength was being channeled into picking myself up and going at it again. Without a timeframe, without any certainty, with fierce (but certainly, futile) hope.

Fifteen years of watching other people’s new beginnings, bringing children into the family, while I only lost family members.

I realize now that there was some pride in this losing with the dignity of the one that never gives up.

And now I have this miracle sleeping in her bedroom upstairs. This precious life that some force of the universe, God, thought wise to send for me to care for and love.

And now I have this miracle sleeping in her bedroom upstairs.

I am not the proud childless warrior I was only eight months ago. But I find that in joy, there is not the end of a journey or the completion of myself I thought I was looking for.

There is a new me I am finding. An exhausted me. A Mom me. A Miracle was bestowed on me, me. And truthfully, I don’t recognize me like this.

It is so weird. So happily weird.


Is your experience of parenthood what you thought it would be?

Image credit: Theresa Martell; allison