In the quiet moments, when the house is finally still and the kids are in bed, many foster and adoptive moms find themselves with a mind full of everything they didn’t have time to process during the day.

Maybe it’s the meltdown that happened during drop-off.
The caseworker update that rattled your heart.
The moment you lost your cool and felt instantly ashamed.
The endless to-do list, the grief that’s always there, the feeling that you’re never quite enough.

These things pile up like invisible weights on your shoulders. And too often, the instinct is to swallow them, hide them, or dismiss them—because that’s what the world tells us “good moms” do. We push through. We show up. We don’t burden anyone else.

But here’s the truth:
When we don’t name what’s heavy, we carry it alone. And when we carry it alone, it only gets heavier.

---

The Myth of the “Strong Mom”

Somewhere along the way, foster and adoptive moms—especially those of us who have been doing this for a while—learned that part of our job is to be unbreakable.

We’re the steady ones.
We’re the safe place.
We’re the advocate, the therapist, the chauffeur, the chef, the mediator, the emotional sponge.

We’re told (sometimes explicitly, often subtly) that the weight of this journey should never show on our faces. That if we’re truly committed to these kids, we shouldn’t let the cracks show. That vulnerability might be interpreted as weakness—or worse, as a lack of love.

But the reality is:
We are human.
We are carrying not just our own stories, but the generational and systemic trauma of the families we’re connected to. We are navigating systems that are often unsupportive and unpredictable. We are parenting kids whose pain didn’t start with us but is now part of our daily lives.

And that’s a lot for anyone to hold.

---

Why Naming It Matters

There’s a profound power in simply saying out loud what feels heavy. Naming it doesn’t make it worse. In fact, it’s often the first step toward feeling a little lighter.

When we name what’s heavy:

• We take it out of the shadows and bring it into the light.

• We stop pretending it’s not there, which gives us more energy to actually address it.

• We create space for support to enter.

• We break the isolation that shame depends on to thrive.

Think of it like this:
Imagine you’re holding a backpack full of rocks, but you’ve convinced yourself you’re supposed to carry it effortlessly. Every step feels harder, but you keep smiling because that’s what you think you’re supposed to do.

Now imagine that instead, you stop and say:

“This backpack is heavy.”
“I didn’t realize how much it was weighing me down.”
“I could really use a hand carrying it.”

The rocks don’t disappear, but suddenly, you’re not carrying them alone. And that changes everything.

---

What “Naming It” Actually Looks Like

So what does it mean to name what’s heavy? It doesn’t have to be a dramatic confession or a social media post. It can be as simple as:

• Saying to yourself: “I’m not okay right now. And that’s allowed.”

• Telling your partner: “I’m feeling really overwhelmed and I need some space.”

• Texting a friend: “Today was really hard. I just needed to tell someone.”

• Journaling it out, no filters, no pretending.

• Whispering it in the quiet of your room at night: “This is a lot.”

For foster and adoptive moms, it might also look like:

• Acknowledging that you’re grieving a goodbye no one else even saw as a loss.

• Saying out loud that visits or caseworker calls make you anxious.

• Admitting that the uncertainty of this journey wears on you, even if you chose it willingly.

---

The Fear That Holds Us Back

If you’ve ever hesitated to name what’s heavy, you’re not alone. Here are some of the fears that come up for so many of us:

• “If I say it out loud, it will make it real.”

• “If I admit I’m struggling, it means I’m not cut out for this.”

• “If I let people see this, they’ll think I’m not grateful.”

Here’s what I want you to hear instead:
Naming what’s heavy doesn’t make you weak. It makes you honest.
It doesn’t mean you’re not cut out for this. It means you’re doing the sacred work of caring for a child and for yourself.
And it doesn’t mean you’re ungrateful. It means you’re human—and this journey was never meant to be easy or straightforward.

---

Why It’s Especially Important for Foster and Adoptive Moms

For foster and adoptive moms, the layers of emotional complexity are often deeper than we realize:

• We’re carrying the pain of our children’s stories.

• We’re managing relationships with bio families, caseworkers, and schools.

• We’re parenting in a world that doesn’t always see or understand the invisible trauma our kids carry.

• We’re trying to hold it all together while holding space for a child who may be too young (or too hurt) to say what’s heavy for them.

When we refuse to name our own weight, we risk becoming so overwhelmed that we can’t show up in the ways we want to. Naming it is not selfish. It’s a crucial part of showing up well.

---

A Personal Story: The Day I Finally Said It Out Loud

I remember one day, early in our fostering journey, when everything just felt… like too much.

We’d had a tough visit with a bio parent. Our child had been acting out all day, and I was stretched so thin I felt like I might snap. I tried to keep it together, telling myself, “It’s okay. This is what I signed up for. I should be able to handle this.”

But that night, as I sat on the edge of my bed, I felt the weight of it all pressing on my chest. And for the first time, I said out loud to myself:

“I can’t keep doing this alone.”

Not even to another person—just to myself. And even that small admission cracked something open. I realized that I didn’t have to keep pretending I was fine. I didn’t have to hold it all by myself.

The next day, I reached out to a friend who was also fostering. I told her the truth. She didn’t fix it—but she sat with me in it. And that made all the difference.

---

How to Start Naming What’s Heavy in Your Life

If this idea feels new or uncomfortable, here are a few ways to begin:

1️⃣ Start with a Journal Prompt:

• What feels heaviest for me right now?

• Where do I feel most alone?

• What would I tell my best friend if she felt this way?

2️⃣ Find a Safe Space:

• A trusted friend

• A therapist or coach

• A support group like the Foster Mama Lifeline

3️⃣ Use Your Voice—Even If It Shakes:

• Say it in a whisper.

• Text it if talking feels too hard.

• Pray it out loud if that’s part of your faith.

---

The Role of Community in Carrying the Heavy

When you name what’s heavy, you create a bridge between your pain and the possibility of support. And support matters—especially in foster care, where the weight can feel unending.

That’s why I built the Foster Mama Lifeline community. It’s a place to show up as you are. To be seen in your struggle and your strength. To learn from others who have walked this path. And to know that you’re not alone—ever.

---

Final Thoughts

Here’s what I want you to remember:
It’s okay to love this child deeply and still feel the weight of this life.
It’s okay to say, “This is hard,” and also say, “This is worth it.”
It’s okay to name what’s heavy and still show up tomorrow with your whole heart.

You don’t have to be unbreakable to be a good mom. You just have to be real.
And I promise, in the realness—there’s a kind of strength that can’t be faked.

If today feels heavy, I hope you’ll take one small step to name it.
Write it down. Speak it out. Share it with someone safe.

I’ll be here, holding that space with you. 💛

With love,
Cathleen

---

Ready to feel less alone?
💛 Join the Foster Mama Lifeline Community here
💛 Explore the resources and calming tools I’ve created for you