People often ask what it’s like to be an adoptive mom. They wonder if it feels different—if the love somehow changes when a child isn’t born from your body but instead, born in your heart.
My daughter’s name is Grace—and both seriously and jokingly, I always say it was by the Grace of God that she is mine. I truly believe God placed her in my heart long before I ever met her. Our story didn’t begin in a delivery room—it began in a divine moment of purpose, one that led me across the world to find the child who was always meant to be mine.
Here’s the truth I’ve come to know with absolute certainty: love doesn’t check biology. It doesn’t require a bloodline. It doesn’t pause to ask where or how the connection began. It simply grows, fills every space, and roots itself deep.
From the moment I first held my daughter in my arms, I knew—I knew she was mine in every way that matters. The bond between us wasn’t weaker for the lack of shared DNA; in fact, it was stronger for the journey that brought us together. Our connection was written in quiet moments: in midnight feedings and scraped knees, in uncontrollable giggles and long hours on the swing, in whispered bedtime stories and silent, shared tears. But I haven’t walked this path alone.
Grace spent her early days in a Russian orphanage—where caregivers did what they could with limited resources, offering what love and structure they had. But the walls of that orphanage, though filled with compassion, could not offer her a future. There was no clear path ahead, no wide-open doors—just survival.
And now… she is flourishing. In America, she has found not just a home, but a life full of possibility. She is living proof of what love, faith, and opportunity can do. She has been embraced by a land that promises so much more, and she is rising to meet it with strength and grace.
But I haven’t walked this path alone
As a single parent, I’ve been lucky and blessed to have an incredible village—strong, loving family members and devoted friends who have surrounded us with support from the very beginning. From the day we stepped off the plane returning from Russia—when Parker and her brother Brock were the first familiar faces I saw—I knew we were not alone.
These people stood in the gap when I needed strength, reminded me of my own courage when I doubted if I had what it takes, and poured their love and encouragement into both me and my daughter. They've cheered her on in every adventure, milestone, and challenge she has faced. Their hands have helped carry us, and their hearts are forever woven into the fabric of our story.
I see God’s fingerprints all over our journey—from the moment He planted the desire to adopt in my heart, to the doors He opened, the people He placed in our lives, and the grace He extended in both the joyful and uncertain moments. His faithfulness carried us when the road felt long, and His love has shaped every chapter of our story.
Adoption may have written the beginning of our journey, but love—strengthened by faith and the grace of our village—continues to write every chapter.
And what a beautiful book Grace is writing. The sky is truly the limit, as she recently graduated Cum Laude from law school and is currently studying for the bar exam.
I encourage anyone wanting to be a parent to consider adoption. There are so many children out there in need of the same opportunity Grace was given—some newborns, some teens, some sibling groups—but all deserving of a chance to be loved, to grow, and to flourish. You just might discover that God has already placed someone in your heart—you just haven’t met them yet.
“Not flesh of my flesh nor bone of my bone, but still miraculously my own.
Never forget for a single minute, you didn’t grow under my heart, but in it.”
— Fleur Conkling Heyliger