From 4 kids to 7...overnight. What I've learned about motherhood and love.

I added three kids to my life and became the mom I always wanted and yet never thought I could be.

Full disclosure, this letter is a long-ish one. And it still feels incomplete! But I wanted to take you into my world of going from 4 kids of my “own” to mom (and stepmom) of 7, literally overnight. I realized it’s Mother’s Day on Sunday - a day bittersweet for our family, since 3 of our kids’ mother is gone from this earth. But this letter is a timely one. For motherhood is a universal call for women (whether married or not) and yet looks so different for each one of us. For that reason, I’ve chosen to make this free for all to read. (you should totally still subscribe though, wink wink.) I never thought I’d be in the family I am now, but God has orchestrated everything in my motherhood to make me the person (and Christian) I always wanted to be. Thanks for being here, and thanks for your support as I unpack my life and help you on your own narrow way!

PS: Happy Mother’s Day to all my fellow mamas out there! May your motherhood be blessed, in all its twists and turns, just as it has for me.

I remember the moment I realized it wouldn’t be me and “my kids” anymore.

Alex and I had been dating and getting closer to marriage and were on the phone together one afternoon. As we were talking, I stared up at the picture above my chair in the corner of my bedroom. It was of me and “my” four kids (and our puppy) just a year after Mike died. Our first family pictures without him.

And it hit me.

I was about to add three kids to that picture.

Kids that I adored and yet just started getting to know.

What was that going to be like?? Could I even do it?

After I got off the phone with Alex, I called my best friend, someone who knew me better than I knew myself, I think. I told her of my nervousness and fear. She had two adopted girls (and two biological) and the words she spoke to me washed over me like baptism and grace:

Kristine, you were going to adopt. This is just what it looks like now. Plus, you always said you wanted 7 kids.

Yes.

This is what it looks like now.

My kids are not my own - that was the lesson shouted loud and clear to me when Mike and I went through the adoption process, when we were chosen to adopt a baby. (It was a baby we had to offer back to the Lord and the expectant mother waiting to give birth to her when we found out Mike had brain cancer.)

My kids are not my own, they belong to God and I am just raising them for Him.

These new kids are not my own, they belong to God and He is asking me to raise them for Him.

(Get the quotes now? They are not my kids or his kids. They are God’s kids. And OUR kids.)

From 4 to 7 overnight.

Alex and I both sold our homes and bought a property together.

I moved in with “my 4” and Alex came back and forth with “his kids” until the kids moved in with me and then we got married and everyone was under the same roof.

(adult Catholic dating with kids…that’s a whole other story! And another story is talking about blended families, of which I have many opinions and much experience. But that’s for a different day.)

And in those days and months and first couple of years, I was confronted with every weakness and strength I possessed as a mother. I was tried and tested, challenged and stretched beyond capacity in mind, body, and soul.

(You guys, it was so hard. And so beautiful.)

I learned how to take all the good things I did as a mom and apply them, I learned how to take those good things and make them better.

And I saw all the glaring holes in my motherhood…and the humility and charity I had to embrace to face and fix them broke me into pieces.

Pieces that God put back together in the form of a mother I never thought I could be, and yet one I always wanted to be.

(Praise Jesus! Dang, I love these kids like something fierce…)

Let me take you into that time. How I knew it was supposed to happen this way, how it broke me, how it changed me, and how I came to be the mother I always wanted to be.

I’m ready to unpack that time. We are on the "other side” of transition and change and I see it all with the lens of clarity, Providence, gratitude, and deep introspection. I want to take you into some of the lessons I learned about motherhood through some of the real moments of welcoming new kids into my heart and home.

I will, however, be leaving out personal details of our kids and their own journey, struggles, and victories because that is their story to tell.

I think the ways I was personally challenged to embrace and grow as a mother is enough. It will be enough for each of us to look at our own parenthood and see how God desires to use it - through all of the difficulty and beauty - to make us incredibly holy and to make us the people we always wanted to be.

Instead of showing my kids, how about my cute dogs. You’re welcome.

The moment I knew his kids were supposed to be mine, too.

You guys, I cannot imagine what Amy (Alex’s late wife) was feeling when she was slipping away. Knowing that she wouldn’t be there to raise her babies.

I can’t even.

The shoes I have to fill are quite large.

But let me tell you a quick story that solidifies this new family of mine - especially those three new kids - was confirmed to be God’s Will.

When I went to Mexico City on Pilgrimage in December 2021, I had no intentions for myself. But when I was on the moving walkway underneath the Tilma of Our Lady of Guadalupe, my intention came to me:

Our Lady, give me your heart. Make it the closest reflection of yours in this world.

I thought maybe I would become a nun and serve the poor somewhere or give up everything and live a simple life. I could write a small book on that time and intention but fast forward to (not quite) one year later.

It was August 22, 2022. The day of my official betrothal to Alex. (aka: Catholic engagement blessing.) It was also the Feast of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

The Gospel of that Mass is John 19:25-27

Now there stood by the cross of Jesus, his mother, and his mother's sister, Mary of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalen. When Jesus therefore had seen his mother and the disciple standing whom he loved, he saith to his mother: Woman, behold thy son. After that, he saith to the disciple: Behold thy mother. And from that hour, the disciple took her to his own.

What.

To be like Mary is to be a mother. And not just any mother - a mother to children that are not my own.

Jesus gave Mary to John and John to Mary. Jesus was giving me Amy’s children. This was the way she would make my heart like hers. Her Immaculate Heart of a mother.

And boy, has my heart been changed. Stretched. Broken and fortified. It has expanded and learned to love in ways I never thought possible. And I am so happy with this new heart (and motherhood) I have.

Let’s see how that all happened…

I’m a great mom. But when we combined families, God used all my weaknesses to make be an even better one.

It’s OK to admit that you’re a good mom.

We all do the best we can with what we have, and I’ve had to navigate motherhood through brain cancer, caregiving for an ailing husband, and leading my family in the wake of his passing. My 4 kids were 6, 8, 10, and 12 when Mike died.

I always prided myself on having stable and happy children despite the wake of change and death that rocked their world. I had to handle our home, cars, bills, and everything Mike used to do in addition to all my mom duties. It was a lot. But we, dare I say, still found a way thrive as mom and kids.

And then I became a stepmom (we use a different term), and God wanted me to face the holes in my motherhood - those things that were getting in the way of what He needed to do in their lives and mine. And the holes were dark and difficult but His light shone through and made them complete.

I will take you into just a few of those fissures broken wide and what I learned when I let God heal the cracks.

Alex made the kids tea. And in that moment, everything I knew to be as a mother changed.

Alex is the most capable father I have ever seen.

He cooks and cleans, he wraps presents better than I do, he is organized, and intentional, and really caring.

I absolutely love the ways he contributes at home - all borne from his own time as caregiver and playing both roles of mom and dad (something I know well, myself).

But one day, his capabilities set off something inside of me.

It was an anger, a feeling of uselessness, a challenging of how I did things when I was on my own as a parent.

What did he do?

He made our sick kids tea.

Wait a minute, aren’t I the mother? Why do they want him to make tea and not me? Why won’t he ask me to make the tea and give the medicine? Why is he making tea better than I would do it? Why am I just sitting here, doing nothing, while he is taking care of sick kids???

And it wasn’t just tea.

He would be the one most of the kids wanted to talk to about things. He would step in and cook dinner sometimes and they would rave about his food. He would be more accommodating with schedules, and he would also do other stuff that was so amazing and yet got on my nerves.

And then God whispered, Humility.

Oooooooo.

The very first stage of this new motherhood would be one of humility.

I would need to learn to let go of being the center of my kids’ lives (as I had been). I had to let go of the advice I wanted to give and tea I wanted to make. Not because I’m a worse parent than Alex (I’m not) but because God needed this foundation of humility in order to raise me to the heights of love. For if my love was built on pride or anything else, it would crumble.

And so over and over…when my heart would be pierced with the arrow of being in second place…I gave it to Him. I asked Him to make me quiet, humble, to serve our kids and not get credit. To build relationships and not me on a pedestal.

And humility became my secret best friend, and I learned to love her dearly. For she gave way to the next lesson that I was supposed to learn.

I thought I was serving my kids…I was actually controlling my anxiety by controlling my home.

You guys, ask anyone who knew me way back when and they’d say, Oh that Kristine sure runs a tight ship!

Yup. We had it down.

Schedules, chores, whatever else - all of it ran like clockwork.

And then I went from 4 kids to 7. Three of them used to doing things a different way.

And the things I could control became things I felt slipping through my fingers.

What do you mean, your room is picked up? It’s a mess! Why are there dishes in the sink? No, let me make you breakfast, that’s OK I can do it! Wait a second, why is the laundry piling up?! Oh my goodness, I CANNOT KEEP UP with the mess!

You see, I love a clean home. (And so does Alex.) Now that I’m on the other side of the lesson I’m about to share, I have some great tips about getting kids involved in chores/housework/yardwork (we have 5 acres). We have all found our groove and it’s great! (I’ll share those a different time.)

But in chatting with my therapist early on in our new family, she point blank told me, Kristine, you control your anxiety by controlling your home.

Pause. Silence.

Then I thought about it. She was right. I’d get all overwhelmed with life and the only thing that would put me at ease was cleaning or, as a result, being in an environment that was put together, not dirty, and organized.

Instead of wanting to make kids eggs because I enjoyed it, it was actually a way to control my kitchen (and therefore my stress levels). Instead of letting a room be at 80% clean instead of 100 because I thought it was good discipline, I actually wanted it done because I was always waiting for the next shoe to drop - and I couldn’t handle another life catastrophe if the house wasn’t picked up.

And then God whispered, Charity.

Oooooooo.

Over the course of some time, I let go. And I made charity my new friend.

I would ask her to help me fill in the holes.

First, I started with the teenagers.

I quickly realized that they needed a relationship with me more than a mom (or step-mom) harping on them about their room or schoolwork or dishes all the time. I learned that there was no way they would buy in to the guidance I wanted to give if all I cared about was doing things a certain way (my way).

I realized our 4 boys needed to see a loving and kind woman take care of them, as an example of how I want their wives to treat them. I realized I needed to have charity as my number one goal, as an example of how I want my daughters to run their home. Those who lost a mom needed love more than anything else. I realized our kids needed to do things their way, sometimes. They needed to learn personal responsibility and how to cook (not mom doing it all), they needed to be challenged in self-discipline and yet given lots of grace when they failed.

And so charity would be there when I cleaned up after the boys “cleaned” their bathroom. I would scrub their toilet and laugh instead of silently fume. Charity would be there in the kitchen when girls were baking and boys were making breakfast (and setting off the fire alarm), and she would guide me to the laughter and conversations with people instead of the mess.

Charity unlocked the balance between wanting to do everything for my kids and letting them do a lot for themselves. It showed me how to love but not enable. How to serve without controlling. How to have peace and surrender in almost but not quite. For God would be the one to lean on for security, not a clean home.

Fast forward almost three years later, and you’d laugh to see the state of my house sometimes. 9 people and 2 dogs and I love (almost) every minute of it. The kids have learned to be quite capable and self-sufficient. I have learned to let them.

And we all have learned that love and people are the center of every family.

Which brings me to my next lesson - the most important of all of them.

The gift I received as a mom when I became a stepmom.

Ok, in our house we don’t like the term “stepmom.” (or stepdad) No offense, but our kids lost a parent and they don’t like that it implies their dad is divorced. So they call me “Kristine” or “this is my Kristine” lol or, and the one to keep us rolling on the floor laughing, “mother figure.”

Yup, I’m a mother figure. And proud of it. And it was THE THING in my own life to finally break me open and build me back up.

Because what being a stepmom/mother figure enabled me to do was DETACH from our kids. Yes, you heard me right. Detach. And focus on a kid and not the outcome.

Sometimes we hold on waaaaaaaaay too tight to our kids. I know that, in the past, I did - there was no way I was going to lose them like I lost Mike or lose them to a crazy world.

So I held everything tight and close - much like I did with my home.

That meant giving too much advice or making decisions for them. It meant trying to point them a certain way because I thought it was their path.

But when I took in Alex’s 3 kids as my own, I had to step back. I couldn’t try to control their lives because that would be horrible! I didn’t want to be the “new mom” coming in and changing everything to fit what I thought I wanted. I had to lean into their interests, ways of thinking and processing, I had to meet them where they were at. And it taught me how to do that with “my kids,” too.

Stepping back a bit allowed me to see the overall picture of my motherhood. God gave my all these kids so I can lead them to heaven. That’s it. Whether that path is a life-long vocation or martyrdom, I was placed in their lives to insure they made it back to Him. And they weren’t going to make it to heaven if I held too tight.

Now I can parent with freedom and surety, not worried about how everything will turn out but rather I focus on navigating life with them (we have 6 teenagers so there’s lots to navigate through), speaking truth and conviction when needed, holding accountable, and yet giving lots of grace.

Sure, my influence as a mom hasn’t changed, but I have learned that my role is not one of captain but rather co-pilot (with God), cheerleader, voice of reason, guide, and yes sometimes disciplinarian. I have learned that I will do everything in my power to help them in their faith and roles as men and women and then leave the results up to God.

I have also learned that kids will love me if I feed them the occasional double quarter pounders with cheese…

With humility and charity set, it was time to be empowered in my motherhood.

There are many more lessons that came during and after those of humility and charity. Let me share one more.

I’m now in what I like to call my “courage” era, one that has emboldened me to take this refreshed heart of a mother and use it to fearlessly lead my kids.

And I remember the day it happened.

We were in the kitchen a while back with a few of our boys, chatting about something. Alex was struggling to communicate a truth to them about dating and relationships. I stayed quiet, not wanting to get in the middle of this particular conversation.

And then God whispered, What would I do or say if they were all my biological children?

Oooooooo.

You see, I’m often not silent about things, not even when Alex and I first got married. But it’s natural not to want to rock the boat with your new kids, to be liked rather than be convicting.

But I had built a relationship with them and now I was using “not rocking the boat” as a crutch to stay quiet.

Because I spent these past 3 years building relationships, trust, grace, memories, and unity I now have the foundation of authority in which to guide all of our kids, to be a voice of reason and truth, have those hard conversations, and to be a mother empowered in what she desires for her children.

I have been placed in each of their lives for a reason and I’m grateful I get to take everything I’ve learned in life (from knowing Catholicism, marriage, and health to walking a hard road and staying faithful) to help them in theirs.

From scared to steadfast - I simply CANNOT imagine my life without these kids.

When I looked up at that picture in my old home, I felt a twinge of fear.

Life was about to be turned upside down - for all of us.

And then it was turned upside down, in ways I never expected.

The picture went from 5 to 9. And my heart was tried, sifted, and purified. It was strengthened. Rebuilt.

And the fear melted away and it turned to steadfast joy.

Kneeling at the foot of the cross quite often, Jesus gave me these kids over and over. He gave me to them, too. And I cannot imagine my life without each one of them.

This past week we’ve had a couple kids gone at a mission trip, a couple over at a friend’s house, and the two oldest off doing their thing. It’s been quiet. And weird. We all comment how it feels empty when just one kid is missing from dinner.

Sure, we like the break from loud kids sometimes (and they like a break from each other!), but our family has been forged as one in the flames of the narrow way.

And my motherhood has been transformed and I have been transformed - becoming the person I always wanted to be.

So, my dear friend, don’t be afraid in the plans God has for you. They may involve death, literal or figurative. They may stretch you beyond your capacity. But keep humility, charity, and courage as your close companions and those same plans just might be the very things God uses to make you happier and holier than if they never happened.

Love, Kristine

PS: For similar reading, check these out.

The heart of the home...and beyond…Why women are the heart of the home. And how one woman in particular is the heart of the world.

What's the point?! That one about teenagers, time away, and the meaning of life.

You’d never guess what it is…The number one thing I had to heal in myself to be a good wife and mom.

We have SIX TEENAGERS. Here's the best piece of advice I can offer when it comes to teens…Teenagers are amazing and complicated. Here's a significant way we've navigated these years with our teens.