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Real Heroes: Honoring the courage of birth mothers

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I grew up reading comic books. Like most kids, I was drawn to stories of caped crusaders, masked vigilantes, and cosmic defenders who stood between good and evil. These heroes flew through the skies, lifted buildings, and saved the world—issue by issue. They were brave. They were bold. But they were fictional.


For a long time, that's what I believed heroism looked like—something larger than life, something reserved for fantasy. My definition has changed. Not because I stopped believing in courage, but because I've come to recognize a different kind of strength—a quieter, deeper, more sacrificial kind.


I believe the greatest heroes in the world are real. Some of them are birth mothers who made the unimaginable decision to place their child for adoption when they realized they couldn't give the child what was most needed.


These women don't fly or wear armor, but they possess a strength that can defy explanation. They are a definition of selflessness. After spending a weekend at a retreat with some of them, I'll never see the word "hero" and not think of them.


A Sacred Gathering

The retreat brought together women from across the country—mothers whose stories are often unheard and whose grief and strength are rarely acknowledged. What unfolded felt holy.


The phrase "gave the baby up for adoption" is still far too common. It carries a tone of detachment, even abandonment. But choosing adoption is not about giving up a baby. It's about giving of oneself deeply, more than most of us can imagine. The phrase doesn't come close to explaining what goes into such a decision. It's one marked by careful reflection and questioning.


Over the course of the weekend, something remarkable unfolded. In a room once filled with uncertainty and guarded silence, laughter erupted. Tears flowed freely—not just from pain but from release. It was the first time for some to be surrounded by others who understood their story without judgment or need for explanation.


It was in those unguarded moments that the true depth of their heroism came into focus. They were not women who ran away from responsibility, but women who faced their circumstances head-on, made a choice rooted in love, and carried the weight of that decision long after the ink on legal papers had dried.


A Misunderstood Narrative

One of the most heartbreaking themes that emerged during the retreat was how many birth mothers felt invisible and mischaracterized. More times than not, adoptive parents are publicly celebrated while the birth mothers, the ones who made the story possible, are portrayed as ones who failed—not as heroes.


Whether this happens through careless language, cultural bias, or simple misunderstanding, the result is the same. Birth mothers can be made to feel like a mistake that had to be corrected and not as the courageous women they are.


That narrative has to change.


It's not a matter of choosing sides. Adoptive families should be honored for their love and commitment. But birth mothers must also be honored for their sacrifice and strength. Both roles matter. Both are sacred. There is no adoption story without a woman who carried life and chose to entrust that life to someone else out of sacrificial love.


The Power of Being Remembered

Some of the most beautiful moments shared at the retreat came from women who continue to receive updates from the adoptive families. Every adoption looks different and not all remain open, but the impact of being remembered is undeniable.


For a birth mother, a letter, a photo, or even a simple message saying, "We're thinking of you today" can bring great comfort. These gestures don't erase the grief they may feel, but affirm them and recognize the love they have for the child and their sacrifice. They feel not forgotten, their role didn't end at the hospital, and they matter.


One woman shared how the adoptive parents of her child send her a scrapbook every year on the child's placement day. Another receives a text every Mother's Day that includes a photo and the message, "We wouldn't have this day without you." Those moments go beyond courtesy—they are acts of grace.


Adoptive families who choose to honor the birth mother's place in their child's life give a gift that words can't fully capture. They help keep the door to healing open. They remind these women that their decision didn't end a connection, but created one.


Looking Ahead with Honor and Hope

There is a growing need to speak differently about birth mothers—not with pity or with shame—but with dignity. They are not "the girl who got into trouble" or "the one who gave a baby away." They are women who made a decision few people can understand, and they did it with more love, strength, and sacrifice than one can imagine.


If our culture hopes to understand real courage, real sacrifice, and real heroism, it must begin here.


To the birth mothers, I say thank you! Thank you for your courage. Thank you for your honesty. Thank you for showing the world what it means to love beyond yourself.


To the adoptive families who offer updates, honor placement anniversaries, and keep space in their hearts for the woman who gave them the greatest gift, I say thank you! Your kindness helps bring healing where it is needed most. Your compassion is writing a new story of hope.


And to the rest of us, I say may we learn to listen better. May we challenge old assumptions, reject harmful labels, and speak life over those who rarely hear it. Heroes do exist. They just don't always wear capes. Sometimes, they wear hospital bracelets, carry silent prayers, and walk forward with a strength that can move mountains.


Written by Wade Parker, Director of Development Northeast Region, Young Leaders Relations

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