Birth Mom Missions

03/14/2026

March 14

The day after Elizabeth turned 18.

For eighteen years I carried this idea in my head: if I could just make it to 18, everything would somehow be okay. I believed that was the day we would finally meet.

I even had this silly little vision in my mind all those years — that we would see each other from far away, maybe over a hill somewhere, and we would both start running toward each other and meet in the middle and hug like no time had passed.

I held onto that picture for so long.

But today is the hardest day I’ve had in a long time.

Because this is not how I imagined it at all.

The day came and went, and the world kept moving. Nothing magical happened. No running over hills. No moment where eighteen years of waiting suddenly made sense.

I don’t think I realized how much of my heart had been quietly waiting for that moment until it passed.

But there is something I do know today.

I honestly don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have Dani right now.

She is such a miracle God gave me. On a day like today, when my heart feels heavy in ways that are hard to explain, I can hold her, hear her laugh, and remember that God has still given me so much love in my life.

This is not how I imagined my reunion story.

But my love for Elizabeth is still here. It never stopped. Not for one day in eighteen years.

And maybe the story isn’t finished yet. http://thestoryofagirl.com

This website was created with love for Elizabeth, in case she ever wanted to know her story. Hi Elizabeth, If you found this website, it may mean that you’re curious about where you came from or who your birth mother is. I created this site so that if that day ever came, you would have […]

02/25/2026

For seventeen years, I have carried a quiet part of my story that shaped everything I built here.

When I was young, I survived a traumatic assault and became pregnant with my first daughter. Placing her for adoption was the hardest thing I have ever done. It was not a decision made out of lack of love — it was made because of love. I wanted her to have stability, security, and opportunities I could not provide at the time.

I named her Ann when I held her. Her adoptive family renamed her Elizabeth. I honor that — and I have loved her every single day of her life.

What I didn’t understand back then was how complicated “open adoption” can become. I was told I would remain connected. I was told I would receive updates. Instead, after a brief period of communication, the contact stopped. For seventeen years, I have written letters through the agency, celebrated her birthday quietly each March, and waited.

Not knowing if your child knows you love them is a unique kind of ache.

That ache is one of the reasons Birth Mom Missions exists.

This ministry was born out of the belief that birth mothers deserve support, advocacy, legal clarity, and community. Too often, young women sign papers without fully understanding their rights. Too often, “open” adoption depends entirely on the goodwill of others. Too often, birth mothers are expected to disappear quietly after placement.

We do not disappear.

We grieve.
We grow.
We carry our children in our hearts.
We build lives while still loving the ones we placed.

Years after placement, God blessed me with another daughter, Dani. Becoming her mother helped bring healing to parts of me that had been silent for years. She did not replace the love I have for my first daughter — nothing ever could — but she reminded me that joy and grief can coexist.

Now, my first daughter turns 18 on March 13.

For years, that milestone felt so far away. Now it is here.

I am sharing this not for sympathy, but for prayer — and for every birth mother who has counted down to an 18th birthday wondering if that will be the year they reconnect.

If my daughter ever reads this, I want her to know what I have always said:

She was never abandoned.
She was never forgotten.
She has always been loved.

And to every birth mom reading this — your story matters. Your love matters. And you are not alone.

Two daughters.
One I hold in my arms.
One I hold in my heart.
Both loved forever.

The rest of the story will posted in the flowing days to come.

02/24/2026

March 13 th 2008 was the day my heart learned how to love and how to break at the same time.

Now, 18 years later, that love is still here. It never left.
My heart has healed in ways I once thought were impossible—but not because the loss disappeared. A mother never gets over the loss of her child. She learns to carry it, alongside the love that never stops.

That love lives in me still. It always will.

05/28/2025

From one of my favorite books….

05/27/2025

To adoptees and my daughter.

05/17/2025

I placed my daughter with a family I picked out through an adoption agency. I carefully choose them and met with them several times before her birth, while I was living at the agency. I had one “case worker” to represent me. It was labeled as an “open /semi- open adoption”
The point is she is now 17 and we still have not been allowed to see or talk to each other. I wish she could know me but I have faith that in 9 months when she turns 18 she will search for me. I know her heart because it grew next to mine. I love her more than life.

I just want to make sure all adoptees and she knows they have their rights restored like all of us “nonadoptess” and they can see where they came from when they are 18 at least.

When I am finally reunited with my baby and healed and I know she is healthy and happy, and can see ber in person this mission will truly begin to thrive!

05/15/2025

know her heart because it grew next to mine. I love her more than life.

05/14/2025

This is awesome. Thanks for caring. I’m not being sarcastic either. But I can be for those birth moms that take it that way. lol.

05/09/2025

Mother's Day is emotionally charged.

05/01/2025

Sending love to all the mothers. Especially those who cannot be with their children. Thinking of you. And if you are adopted know that your birth mom loves you!

03/09/2025

Step into the shoes of a birth parent for just a moment. Imagine parting with your child. Imagine believing it was your only option. Imagine believing it was the right thing to do. Even then, the pain remains, doesn’t it?
Now, picture someone telling you that you don’t have the right to grieve. That you shouldn’t shed tears. That you shouldn’t miss your child. Imagine feeling like there’s no place where you truly belong anymore. Too often, birth parents are dismissed or even labeled as "crazy" for wanting to remember and speak about their child.
Enough is enough.

What can you do to help? Please join our mission by following the Birth Mom Missions page. This alone would be a huge help! Share with others, especially those involved in or considering adoption.

We WILL change the face of adoption.
We WILL support life, uplift women, and promote strong families.
We WILL let adopted children know just how much they are loved.
YOU were ALWAYS wanted. ❤️

For just a second, put on the shoes of a birth parent. Imagine parting with your child. Imagine believing that it is your only option. Imagine believing that...