I know how you feel.

My husband and I have been married for ten years and we have no biological children.  We hosted a high school international student for two years, had two foster sons for approximately three years, and are now fostering our second set of boys.  I wouldn’t trade those five years with our “kids” for anything in the world.

It was Mother’s Day of 2017 – my first Mother’s Day with our foster sons.  Although we had previously hosted our international student, she was wonderfully self-sufficient and THIS Mother’s Day, I felt like a totally legit mother.  After all, I was packing lunches and going to parent-teacher conferences and cleaning boy pee off the bathroom floor like a champ.  I was excited for MY Mother’s Day. 

We marched off to church that morning with everyone clean and smartly dressed.  During the service, it was announced that there were pansies and petunias planted in little Dixie cups for each mother to pick up in the back after church.  The boys were pumped to pick out my flower and pulled me to the back of the church after the service.  I stood back a little and let them go pick it out, quite pleased that I was officially, what I considered to be, a legit mom, confirmed by my little potted purple pansy.

Never did I expect my status as a mom to be challenged by a woman in my church, but it happened.

As I was waiting for the boys to pick out my flower, a woman walked up to me and loudly exclaimed, “YOU’RE A MOTHER?!”.  (Keep in mind, at this point, the boys had been living with us for nine months and we attend church regularly.  Their full-time existence in our lives wasn’t a secret in a church of approximately 150 people.)

I was relieved the boys were not within earshot. 

I laughed uncomfortably and replied that yes, I was their foster mom.

“OH!”, she replied, “But you just got your master’s degree!”.

It’s true.  One year prior, I had received my master’s degree, another accomplishment I was quite proud of, but not one I thought had anything to do with my motherhood.

I expressed that sentiment to her and was met with another throaty, “OH!”.

I politely ended the conversation, gathered the boys and the little potted purple pansy we were all so proud of and went home. 

I laughed off the conversation with that woman and chalked it up to yet another ignorant individual who didn’t have a filter.  I certainly wasn’t going to let it ruin what I considered to be my first official Mother’s Day. 

But that conversation never left me.  It cut deep, actually.  It wasn’t that I was offended, but it placed a seed of doubt in me that occasionally sprouted and challenged my status as a mom.  A real mom. An official mom.  A good enough mom. A legit mom. 

Two years after that Mother’s Day, I celebrated my third and last Mother’s Day with those boys.  I got a little potted purple pansy that day as well.  Same church, same routine.  At that point, I knew the boys were leaving us one month later.  My status as a mother would be coming to an end. 

But it wouldn’t, and yours won’t either.

Before the boys left, a fellow foster mom with no bio kids warned me that I would feel a little lost after the boys left.  Going from two kids to no kids is a big adjustment.  She wasn’t wrong. 

I spent the summer self-reflecting on my motherhood.

My husband and I have spent half of our ten year marriage with kids in our home, first with our international student, and then with our foster sons.   We also have three dogs (hello, dog moms!).

Fellow foster moms with no bio kids, here is what I want you to know:

Nothing and no one can challenge your status as a mom.  You have soothed babies, chased toddlers, high-fived kids, and tolerated teenagers just as well as any bio mom. 

You have balanced careers and parenthood, knowing if you quit your job, you would feel like you had nothing left if the birth parents achieved reunification of their children.

You have persevered through school meetings and caseworker meetings all while feeling like an imposter. 

You have cried over your foster kiddo’s future, potentially more than a bio mom has cried over her own child. 

You have cleaned up puke and pee and poop with the same enthusiasm as everyone else. 

You have attempted to co-parent with your foster child’s birth mom, despite her hostility and insecurity.

You do not need to justify your motherhood simply because you do not have biological children.  The difference you are making in your foster child’s life during their time with you now and after they leave your home is justification enough.  You are enough.