As a mom of five grown children, and foster mother to twenty-two amazing kids through the years, I can tell you this—your child, right now, is creating memories of this period in time that will stay with them forever. They are very unlikely to remember the how and why of this pandemic, but they will remember the feelings that they had during this time.

Our battle with AFCCA is ongoing. We have learned skills; some that help, some that didn’t. We are no longer afraid to call CAS and 911 weekly. We know that our son’s behaviours don’t define his love for us, something that was very hard to accept.

Our youngest daughter started her life with us by crying the entire hour-long drive home.

Christmas comes once a year, but adoption is forever.

« Les crises de colère de notre fille ont été sans relâche pendant les six premiers mois d’école. Simplement repenser à tous ces pleurs et hurlements me fait toujours autant chavirer le cœur. »

« Notre aînée se plaignait à nous qu’elle allait “manquer de temps” parce qu’elle avait été trimballée de foyer d’accueil en foyer d’accueil pendant sept ans et qu’elle avait déjà onze ans en arrivant chez nous. »

« Dès que ma fille a commencé l’école, elle avait besoin de mon attention tous les jours. Toutes les occasions étaient bonnes pour me sauter sur les genoux. »

Our elder daughter laments to us that she is “running out of time,” because she was in-and-out of foster care for seven years and didn’t come home with us until she was eleven.

Every game of tag, every goofy joke—even the arguments about whether he needed to wear his coat—were all small steps to deepening our attachment.

With no EI benefits, I’ll be able to take about three months off at home with my child.

My daughter craved my attention daily, as soon as she started school. She’d jump in my lap at every opportunity.

My children are still struggling to get to know a stranger they now call Mom.

I was only eligible for 35 weeks of parental leave, even though we adopted three children from foster care over a two-year period.

When my son says “cuddle,” everything else stops, so he knows that love, security and family come before everything.

We use our time as currency, our hugs and kisses as money in the bank.

Our daughter tantrumed non-stop for the first six months of the school year. Just thinking about all the screaming and crying at that time still rocks me to my core.

I no longer felt alone, because I had all of these wonderful women by my side working to make changes too.

I had never heard of post-adoption depression and would think to myself: How can I feel sad when my dreams of being a mom have finally come true?

“I am sad for what my daughter is missing today, for how much richer her outdoor play could be; for all the worms and frogs she doesn’t find.”

The journey I’m experiencing is a roller coaster of emotions. There are so many ups and downs and unexpected turns. I’m excited and laughing one moment, then scared or crying the next.