Beth Edwards, our International Child Advocacy Communications Specialist, is mom to 8 kids (3 adopted from Taiwan in 2013, 2018, and 2021, and 5 biological). We asked Beth how she was feeling as she started her adoption processes. She shared the following:
"I felt all the things—excitement, hope, deep love for a person I had yet to really meet, amazement, and complete joy. I was also scared with every single adoption. Seriously scared. Like, 'someone is absolutely going to discover we are painfully average and cancel this whole thing' scared. Scared I wasn’t enough. Scared that I’d mess up. I was convinced at any moment some sort of official person would swing open my pantry door, gasp at the sight of half-open chip bags and cereal boxes shoved wherever they fit, and declare, 'I’m sorry… you don’t store your snacks in matching containers? This is a hard no.'
For the record, our home study person never once looked in the pantry. Not one time.
And yes… at first, I was completely terrified of raising a child with Down syndrome. Right before we got the big 'She’s yours! Get ready to travel!' call, I phoned a friend and absolutely unraveled. Not cute crying. Not single-tear, Rom-Com crying. Full-on, puffy-eyed, what-have-I-done panic. I told her I was going to do everything wrong, that surely someone would realize I wasn’t equipped for this, that there must have been an oversight somewhere.
Now, to be fair, I did prepare. Not only because it’s required (and that training is SO GOOD), but because I like to overthink everything. I found extra research, bought the whole set of TBRI training DVDs, joined adoptive mom groups and local Down syndrome groups, and then ordered books… and then highlighted those books like I was cramming for finals.
Obviously, like every single parent everywhere, I do mess up. Regularly. Some days I absolutely do not want to tackle speech therapy homework. Some days I really want to skip a medical appointment and hide with a pile of homemade chocolate chip cookies (who am I kidding? Any chocolate is fine… or fruit with Tajín) like it’s a competitive sport.
But somewhere in all that fear and frantic Googling, I did one very smart thing—I built my village.
I have friends who see the overthinking, worst-case-scenario version of me and stay anyway. I found medical professionals I trust who are amazing with my kids, and a speech therapist who genuinely adores them and is exceptional at what she does. Also, the home study person who never looked in our pantry? She helped grow me tremendously, and I’m thankful that she’s a friend now and one of my favorite people to learn from. My village helps steady me when I wobble. They remind me that 'average' moms can do extraordinary things—with help.
And that’s how a house with a lot of kids doesn’t just survive. It laughs loudly. It cries sometimes. It eats chocolate. It calls friends. It keeps learning. And somehow, beautifully, imperfectly… it works."