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I sat for hours on my living room floor putting together a play kitchen with the biggest smile on my face. Sliding the pieces together, I thought of all the little hands that would be pouring pretend cups of coffee for me, slicing adorable pieces of wooden fruit and “washing” all the tiny dishes.  

I was about to be a mama for the first time ever … to five siblings in need of a family.  

When we started the journey of becoming foster parents, we were not sure what it would look like. We planned to provide a comforting space for children temporarily placed in foster care, while cheering on their families to be able to reunite.  

A few months after starting the foster parent training, we heard the term “waiting children.” After reading more about this topic, we stumbled upon a world of foster care that we never knew existed. In the United States, thousands of children are waiting to be adopted because reunification is no longer a safe, possible option. Our hearts immediately broke for those children, and our plans changed. 

As we transitioned from opening our home as a foster parent, to being open to adopting children waiting for a permanent family, I remember the conversation we had with our social worker.  

“You know,” she started, as we walked down the stairs during our final home study. “You have the space for up to five children.”  

Five sounded silly — crazy, even! We laughed and shook our heads thinking that opening our home for two was wild enough.  

And then one early morning, I opened my phone to a picture of five of the most beautiful faces I’d ever seen. Ranging from ages 2 to 13, holding hands tightly and grinning big, bright smiles, they stood together. And without knowing it, they stole my heart.  

That was the first time I ever saw my children.  

The more than four years since that moment have been an absolute blur. Part of me still remembers those first few moments, weeks and months and how challenging going from zero to five was. But most of me feels like my life never even truly began until they arrived. They were not born to me, but my love for them lives deep inside my bones and spills out to fill all my heart.  

We’ve faced challenges that I didn’t anticipate. For one of our daughters, we were her 31st home. Gaining her trust didn’t come easy, and I’ve found that it can’t be rushed, forced or secured … no matter how hard you try. I once told her there would not be a 32nd home; we would not be another goodbye. She struggled, and sometimes still struggles, believing me as I try to offer reassurance. But I intend on keeping that promise to her for the rest of my life.  

When moving our children into our town in Arkansas that lacked diversity and culture, we found that being a transracial adoptive family would subject us to unfortunate ignorance and both unintended and intended racism. I remember receiving my daughter Nia’s class picture and feeling the weight of our complacency, as she was the only child of color in the photo. 

After attempting to make it work because Arkansas was home to us, we began to understand and educate ourselves on the need for racial mirrors, authentic culture and high diversity. So, we sold our house, packed up our belongings into a U-Haul and began the trip to North Carolina, where we live today.  

A year later, our daughter Nia brought home her class picture with 25 grinning, toothless faces looking back at me. I counted 16 children of color surrounding her. I will never regret doing right by my children. 

I understand that not everyone can open their home as a foster or adoptive parent, but I fully and firmly believe that everyone can do something. And with thousands of children waiting for permanency, there is much for us to do. 

I encourage you to support organizations like the Dave Thomas Foundation for Adoption. You can help by following the Foundation on social media, sharing their resources, packing care kits for youth in still in foster care and even donating if you can! 

Thank you, Kayla, for sharing your family’s story and for encouraging others to open their hearts as foster and adoptive parents. 

Kayla and her husband, Jerad, advocate for siblings remaining together. Kayla is a TBRI Practitioner, national communications coordinator and communications and development manager within the adoption and foster care space. You can follow her on Instagram @makingthemoffitts