Mary Beth LaRue is
a yoga teacher in
Los Angeles and the
cofounder of Rock
Your Bliss. Learn more—
and read abouther foster adoption
journey at marybethlarue.com.conceive, and I hadn’t seen any of
the alternative practitioners my
friends had recommended—the
paths being presented to us didn’t
feel quite right.
So we left, got an ice cream cone,
and tabled the baby conversation.
A few days later, Matt and I
were on a walk when I asked him,
“What do you think about
adoption?”
He looked at me with big eyes
and said, “I think it’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, me too,” I replied with
a big smile. “Really beautiful.”
Fast forward a few weeks and
we’d sought the advice of a
student of mine, named Taylor,
who is a foster-adoption lawyer.
She’d been coming to my classes
for years, always setting up her
mat front and centre. Life is like
that, not letting you miss the
important people who will
change everything. After talking
to Taylor, Matt and I met with a
foster-adoption agency and made
the big, scary, beautiful decision
to become foster parents. With
more than 34,000 children
receiving services in Los Angeles,
where we live, we thought surely a
few of these kiddos were looking
for us as much as we were looking
for them.
In addition to the unknowns
all parents face, we’re staring
down a few more. We’re not sure
how old our baby will be, and we
won’t know the gender, race, or
even what kind of prenatal care
this baby’s birth mama received.
We may foster a baby who is
ultimately reunited with his or
her birth parents; we hope to
foster a child who we’ll ultimately
adopt. We will ask questions and
get some answers, and amid all of
the uncertainty, what we know
for sure is that this will be an
education in trust. Trust that no
matter what happens, we will be
united with this child who we
thought my body would carry
and who our hearts have always
wanted to hold.
Back in the nursery that
morning, as I looked into the
crib and wondered about the baby
who’d soon lie in it, I silently
repeated my new mantra—
I don’t know—a phrase that’s
offered me more hope and
comfort than I’d ever imagined it
could.
When we met with a social
worker to talk about the foster
system, she warned us, “You’ll
fall in love, and you might get
hurt.” Scary, to be sure, but isn’t
this true of so many things in
life? After all, so much of what’s
worth doing is a messy path for
the heart.
I’ve spent most of my life
bracing myself for the impacts
of those messes. These days, I’m
choosing to dance with
uncertainty.
Becoming a foster parent feels
a bit like a free fall, and of course
one part of me wants to engage
with the countless worries and
what-ifs. Yet more of me is
tapping some well of wisdom I
didn’t even know I had, and one
day at a time—even one hour at
a time—I’m simply putting one
foot in front of the other, trying
to make the next right choice.
And with my eyes and heart
wide open, I’m revelling in the
I don’t know.“We’re not sure how
old our baby will
be, and we won’t
know the gender or race...”
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