Goodness and Grief on the Foster Care & Adoption Journey

When you first pursued adoption or started fostering, did you dip your toe in the water—or dive right in? My husband and I waded in through a kinship placement, then took the plunge a few years later by adopting siblings internationally. No matter how we entered the water, most of us likely didn’t realize we’d be swimming through a current filled with both goodness and grief.

The Goodness of God

Psalm 118:1 (NLT) says, “Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good! His faithful love endures

forever.” While I’ve faced countless challenges as an adoptive parent, I remain deeply grateful for God’s faithfulness and goodness along the way. From navigating the adoption process, to bringing our children home, adjusting to a new normal, becoming trauma-informed, and watching some of them launch—God has been present every step.

Giving thanks to the Lord is key to navigating this journey. I’m thankful my children came into a safe, loving home. They now have hope and a future, rather than a dire destiny. Praising God for His goodness and for countless answered prayers has sustained me through the hard days.

Four of my children were born in Ukraine. I shudder to think what their lives might have been had they not been adopted. Statistically, the two oldest could have faced futures riddled with addiction, incarceration, trafficking—or even suicide. The younger two, both diagnosed with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome and various physical and intellectual disabilities, would likely have ended up in adult mental institutions. And that was before the recent war.

I’m not saying we saved them. No, God alone saves. But He did place them in our family. That divine setting and saving shows His enduring love and goodness. Even on the hardest days over the past twenty years, I am grateful for God’s grace. His goodness and love have been like buoys, keeping my head above water during seasons of grief.

The Grief

Foster and adoptive parents expect occasional choppy waters—but must the sharks always be circling? We know the daily grind: packed schedules, parent visits, intense behaviors, school struggles, and sibling spats. But what I didn’t anticipate was the ebb and flow of grief and loss. Many of us are familiar with the pain of infertility, a failed adoption, or the heartbreak of a beloved child returning through reunification.

Children arrive with deep wounds. We face the impacts of trauma daily and pour ourselves out trying to bring healing. I thought I’d counted the cost of foster care and adoption. But grief wasn’t part of my calculations.

I didn’t recognize my symptoms until I interviewed a guest on the Adoption & Foster Care Journey podcast about self-care—something I had long seen as a luxury for the weak. As she listed the symptoms of grief, I was shocked to realize I was experiencing most of them.

Symptoms of Grief

• Sorrow

• Detachment

• Anxiety

• Guilt and Regret

• Anger

• Loneliness and

• Isolation

• Difficulty Concentrating

• Sleep Disturbances

• Fatigue and Exhaustion

• Oversensitivity

Grief in Foster Care & Adoption

Parents and caregivers often grieve what might have been. Raising children with trauma histories or prenatal exposure to alcohol affects not only their futures—but ours too.

We grieve the loss of the dreams we had for them and for ourselves. Some of our children may never graduate high school or hold a steady job. Some may never marry or raise families of their own. And sometimes, instead of watching them thrive, we visit them in jail.

When we adopted over two decades ago, I didn’t give much thought to the idea of an empty nest. Now, most parents my age are enjoying grandchildren, traveling, pursuing hobbies, and living in peaceful, tidy homes.

My nest is neither empty, clean, nor quiet. My travels are either solo—for speaking engagements while my husband stays home with our young adult son with FASD—or a threesome with both of them in tow.

Even my time with my grandchildren isn’t what I envisioned. Although my two youngest sons

are in their twenties, they both require support. One lives semi-independently; the other will

always be dependent. I love my boys fiercely and have no regrets. But caring for them leaves less time and energy for everything else—including my grandchildren.

I didn’t foresee these losses or the grief that sometimes floods my heart. And yet, even if I had, I wouldn’t change a thing. These trials have drawn me closer to God. I can testify: He is good, and His love endures forever.

God Is Our Lifeguard

Whether we’re in a season of goodness or grief, God is always only a prayer away. He’s like a lifeguard—watching over us, diving in to rescue us.

Psalm 118:5 (NLT) says, “In my distress I prayed to the LORD, and the LORD answered me and rescued me.”

God is our lifeline. He draws near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18), comforts us (2 Corinthians 1:3–4), and fills us with hope (Romans 15:13). We can cast our cares on Him,

knowing He cares for us (1 Peter 5:7). He strengthens us (Psalm 118:14–16) and offers peace (John 14:27).

Whether you’re floating in the slow current of a lazy river or crashing through tsunami

waves—Jesus is in the water with you. We’re not meant to navigate these seas alone. God is our Lifeguard—and He provides lifebuoys to keep us afloat.

Grief Care

Without caring for our physical, emotional, and spiritual needs, we risk being pulled under by the waves of grief. Whether or not you recognize the symptoms listed earlier, I encourage you to embrace a steady rhythm of soul-care—or grief-care:

 Seek God – Deepen your relationship through Bible study and prayer

 Seek professional help – See your doctor and therapist regularly

 Keep a gratitude journal – List daily what you’re thankful for

 Connect – Build fellowship with other foster and adoptive parents

 Re-connect – Spend time with loved ones

 Care for yourself – Exercise, eat well, and do something fun

 Seek solitude – Find quiet time in your car or on a walk

 Give yourself a break – Plan regular respite and retreats

No matter how you entered the waters of foster care and adoption, it’s not safe to swim alone. The Lord is with you—and you’re surrounded by others navigating the same current. Keep your eyes on the Lifeguard, cling to the lifebuoys above, and link arms with fellow caregivers.

Together, we can navigate the goodness and grief of the adoption and foster care journey.