The photo above is of my children Joshua, Tegan, Olive, Maia, and August.

I remember being seven years old and playing with my Cabbage Patch dolls on the front lawn. I had the whole setup: playpen, swing, crib, and clothes. I was always the mommy. Sometimes, there was a daddy, but it was rare. My name, for some reason, was always Carrie Baker. I’m unsure where I came up with this alter ego, but I’m sure it was some self-protection.

I didn’t date much in high school; reflecting, I know why. When I was 22, I met a boy, and we quickly became severe. My lack of experience in dating and relationships allowed me to get involved in a toxic situation. During this relationship, I tried to get pregnant and was never successful. I visited a fertility specialist who informed me that my sole choice was IVF, a procedure not covered by insurance. The relationship ended for various reasons, and I decided to leave the state and find a new life.

I met a girl online and, through this journey, learned my lack of dating in high school was related to my sexual orientation. I quickly fell in love, and our engagement lasted for three years. I told her I wanted children, and she was on board. We started the IVF process with the first doctor I could find on Yelp. Sadly, many eggs were retrieved, but the cycle was a failure. I posted on social media, trying to find another facility, as I didn’t trust this one. Someone referred me to a particular doctor, and several people confidently told me that I would conceive under their treatment. Once more, they transferred several eggs, precisely three, but the cycle ended in another failure.

We took a break as my heartache was too significant to process. I knew so many women getting pregnant with IVF, but not me. Finally, I found a doctor who was in the news for getting a grandmother pregnant as a surrogate. She tested me from A to Z and said it was simply my PCOS preventing me from getting pregnant. I wanted it so badly! We did one more cycle; during this cycle, my partner’s mother died from lung cancer. A friend went with me for the retrieval and transfer. In my heart, I firmly believed that this was the one, that it would work! I was picking names and building a registry. I flew to be with my partner the day after my transfer. Two weeks later, I learned it was another failed cycle. I had reached the point where I no longer wanted to keep trying. I asked her about adoption, but she would joke and say how about we travel. Finally, one day, I asked her to consider getting pregnant. She told me she didn’t want kids and was doing it for me. My heart was in pieces, yet I remained with her for another year, fully aware that the relationship had ended. I felt lied to and betrayed and couldn’t move past it.

I met my now wife, Julie, in 2013. She had a child from another relationship. She was 5.5 years old, and it was instant love for me. She attached herself to me reasonably quickly. I talked to Julie early on about my need/desire to have children. She also wanted more children. She did IVF, and we had a positive pregnancy test. We were so excited. We sat for hours making a registry. We planned our cloth diapers, baby crib, and car seat. We were so ready and eager. We even announced it on social media. She was seven weeks along.

During a work trip, she phoned me to say that she was experiencing bleeding. They had her do a blood test, but we knew. She lost the pregnancy two days later. The journey affected her mental health, so it was best for her to start retaking her medication. We decided to take a break from IVF and try again later. I got a job transfer to Texas from Chicago, so a cross-country move was underway.

The transition to moving wasn’t an easy one. Our daughter was struggling in school. Her father hadn’t joined us down here yet. It was just a complete clusterfuck. When things started to get settled, Julie came home with an idea. She worked in early intervention for a state agency as a services coordinator and special skills training from birth to three. She came home one day wanting to foster children. I was 100% against it. She pushed more, but I said no. I went out to see a movie with my friend. She said, “I fostered and adopted. Just do it already.” Her saying it had made me realize that perhaps my journey was to foster. I went on Google and called the first agency; it started with an A, and at 8 p.m., they answered their phone. We did the classes and licensed in five weeks.

The first placement they tried to match us with was three kids. We waited a week, then advised us they went elsewhere. We had over 50 additional emails. We couldn’t take in a sibling set as a newer licensed home. Our case manager called us on one random Thursday and said check your email. We had a Word doc, a baby girl born early at the hospital in the NICU. She was being transferred to the children’s hospital for surgery. That’s it. We said YES!

I’ll never forget the day, December 10, 2015. The day I became a mother. The day my life and world completely changed. She was so small. They informed us that she was a preemie born at 24 weeks. She didn’t have an official name and was referred to as Natalie, as that was the name we had planned for her. She was 3.5 months old and funny-looking, but I was in love. The caseworker told us you will adopt this baby legally, but I cannot tell you that. I met her birth mother at court on January 16, 2016. She asked me about baptism. She thanked me for loving her baby, then disappeared. The department tried to find her or her family. Their efforts were unsuccessful, and in June 2016, DFPS terminated the parental rights. We adopted Tegan Amelia on November 4, 2016.

In May 2016, we received a call for a seven-week-old baby girl. We again said YES. Her name was Raven, and she was so beautiful and so big! She was wearing six months old clothes already. Her case was unique, and the parents were involved. They loved and wanted their baby very much. Sadly, CPS wasn’t supportive or helped much in completing their services. We adopted our daughter, Olive Grace, on August 23, 2017. Our girls were seven months apart. It sure did feel like twins.

I wanted to keep our home open, but Julie was complete. I felt like we had more love to give. We moved to a larger home on July 7, 2017. Boxes were scattered all over, and the place was chaotic, but we received a call about another baby girl. She was two days old and was going to Michigan in a few weeks. We said YES! We always said yes at this point. Six months into her case, the judge denied the move for various reasons. He asked in court if we would adopt, and of course, we said YES! Maia Nicole was adopted on February 6, 2019.

On December 13, 2018, Olive’s birth parents called us to say they were at the ER having a baby. Would we take the placement? We, of course, said YES! We sadly assumed CPS would automatically place with us. We were there for the birth and stayed a week visiting the baby and bonding. At placement, our agency said no and provided zero explanation. I filed a petition with the court, and on January 25, 2019, the judge gave us permanent custody. Our son, August Halsted, was adopted in November 2020. This completes the journey, and we have five exceptional children.

So, I thought.

My marriage failed at the end of 2020, and I filed for divorce. There were many reasons for the failure, and we both played a part: Covid, unemployment, mental health, and more. I started dating someone rather quickly, and during my divorce, the kids and I moved in with her. I had been unemployed for 18 months due to Covid. In May of 2021, the same birth mother called me. She said she had a baby boy. Can I come and get him? Without asking my new partner, I said YES. He was placed with us on May 7, 2021, and we will adopt him sometime in Fall 2023.

I never imagined my journey would include adoption five times or foster care. Twelve kids have come through our home, each with a unique story and trauma. I have learned compassion through this journey. The birth families and the children all have this significant loss. However, if we can foster the family and keep the relationships open, it can ease the wounds and allow healing for everyone. Olive and August’s birth parents visit often. They are amazing people and, at their core, are the most loving people I’ve met. They love their children enough to know they can’t parent them. I learned that addiction doesn’t make bad people. I’ve discovered I am not to judge anyone and their life journey. This journey has been the most epic story of my life, and I’m so thankful for all those failed IVF cycles. God had his plan for me; sometimes, unanswered prayers are the best.

What I didn’t know and caused me to update this article is the actual trauma of adoption. Each one of our children has a unique set of special needs. Some challenges come with trauma and, sadly, minimal support from the state. Navigating services and insurance was difficult. Do I have regrets? Not a single one. What advice would I give another foster family? You are not here to be adoption-motivated. You are not here to expand your family through foster care. You are here to support, nurture, and love a family, not just the child(ren). You are not to judge without walking in their shoes. Find local foster villages and groups. Talk to other foster families. The biggest and best lesson is to learn to take a pause. Suck in the good energy of the journey and let out the negative. You do not need to understand anyone’s journey but your own. DO NOT take away their genetic connection to the earth should you adopt. Allow them that history and safe contact. It is not YOUR story; it is theirs. Do not discuss their story in front of them without their consent. Remember, it’s an honor you raise these children as your own. Love them; they are your own. Do not forget where they came from. I guarantee you, regardless of their choices, the first family loves them.

“A child born to another woman calls me mommy. The MAGNITUDE of that tragedy and the DEPTH of that privilege are not lost on me.”

Jody Landers