Before I share what’s on my heart this month, I want to let you know that in a few short weeks I will be traveling to Washington D.C. to accept a Congressional award recognizing my work as an adoptive mother and advocate — and to speak directly to members of Congress about the very issues I write about here. It is one of the greatest honors of my life, and I will share more about that experience soon. But first, I want to share something I’ve been carrying for a long time.
People often comment on how wonderful it is that my children have a forever family.
I don’t think wonder had much to do with it.
What I wish more people understood is that adoption isn’t the end of a child’s story.
It’s the beginning of a lifelong commitment to healing — and for many adoptive families, that healing requires professional support, not just love.
A Therapist’s View — and a Mother’s Reality
As both a licensed clinical social worker and an adoptive mother of three children from foster care, I have the unique privilege of seeing this from both sides. I support families professionally who are navigating trauma, developmental disabilities, mental health challenges, and complex medical needs. And when I close my laptop at the end of the day, I walk into my own home and live that same reality.
Our family has celebrated adoption days.
We’ve celebrated first birthdays together, school milestones, vacations, and moments that once felt impossible.
But we’ve also spent countless hours in therapy offices, specialist appointments, IEP meetings, psychiatric evaluations, emergency rooms, and on the phone with insurance companies fighting for services our children need.
I still remember sitting in the ER, watching my child unable to find any stillness in his body — a paradoxical reaction to a medication that was supposed to help with his emotional regulation, instead doing the opposite. The doctor turned to me and asked, “Is this what you’re dealing with 24/7?” Then he paused and said, “I honestly don’t know how you do it.”
That is the part of adoption that people rarely talk about.
What Adoptive Families Are Really Navigating
Children adopted from foster care often carry invisible wounds. Many have experienced trauma, neglect, prenatal substance exposure, prematurity, developmental disabilities, autism, ADHD, attachment disruptions, and significant mental health challenges.
Love provides safety.
Love provides belonging.
But love alone cannot heal trauma.
Healing requires access to evidence-based mental health care, behavioral health services, developmental therapies, educational supports, and community resources.
Yet too many families spend years fighting for those very services.
Parents become care coordinators, insurance experts, behavior specialists, advocates, and crisis managers—all while trying to simply be mom or dad.
They spend hours appealing denials, searching for providers who accept Medicaid, waiting months for appointments, and wondering whether they can keep going.
I remember opening a letter that denied a medically necessary service for my child — reading the cold, clinical language and feeling something close to devastation, knowing exactly what that service meant for him and exactly how hard I’d have to fight to get it anyway.
As a therapist, I see the exhaustion.
As a mother, I feel it.
And I know my family is not unique.
I have spoken with countless adoptive parents who love their children fiercely but are struggling under the weight of systems that make access to care unnecessarily difficult.
These are not families asking for extraordinary things.
What Adoptive Families Need From Therapy and Support Services
They are asking for therapy.
For behavioral supports.
For psychiatric care.
For respite.
For services that allow their children to remain safely at home, succeed in school, and participate in their communities.
They are asking for the opportunity to help their children heal.
If we truly believe every child deserves a forever family, then our commitment cannot end when the adoption paperwork is signed.
Permanency is not a destination.
It is a promise.
And promises require support.
My hope is that we begin talking not only about finding children permanent families, but about ensuring those families have access to the resources they need for years to come.
Adoption Is the Beginning, Not the End
Because adoption is not the finish line.
It is the beginning of a lifelong journey.
And every child deserves more than a forever home.
They deserve every opportunity to heal, thrive, and succeed once they get there.
If you’re an adoptive parent navigating trauma, behavioral health needs, or the exhaustion of fighting for the right care, you don’t have to do it alone. I work with foster and adoptive families every day — as a therapist, and as someone who lives this too.
