May is FOSTER CARE Awareness Month!

May is National Foster Care Awareness Month

Let’s Talk FOSTER CARE!

This marks my fourth year in my fostering journey—and the first time I’ve taken a hiatus (due to relocating).

Since I began this journey in 2021 with my forever bae, Trinity, I’ve had the honor of fostering seven beautiful children, each for varying lengths of time.

My longest and most transformative placement was with a vivacious, beautiful 2-year-old boy named Noah. And I want to share what 10 months of being his caregiver—his “mommy”—taught me about myself, parenting, fostering, family, connection, and love.

If you know me, you know I divinely stumbled into motherhood and fostering with Trinity—who came to me at 11 days old—and since then, I’ve had several short-term placements in my home. Each child brought their own opportunities and challenges, each one shaping me in new ways.

There were two sisters from Nicaragua who spoke no English. A 4-month-old Chinese baby girl I affectionately called Lil Kim who stayed for two weeks. A strong and stocky 2-year-old who stayed for just a week. And sweet baby Rhythm, who gave me baby fever all over again.

But all of those placements were brief. As much as I loved and cared for them, there wasn’t enough time—or need—to truly bond. In my heart, they were always “someone else’s kid.”

Then came Noah.

It was a cold November evening in 2023 when he arrived—without proper clothing (typical foster care shenanigans)—and stepped into my life for the long haul. His family situation was complex: one parent was deceased, the other missing in action. He had spent the first two years of his life living with an older sibling and their children.

Noah was sweet, bright-eyed, full of energy, and desperate for attention. He joined the unit that Trinity and I had built together and turned us into a party of three. Suddenly, I was Mommy to two toddlers. Clearly, I love a challenge.

Adjusting was not easy.

Noah came with his own routines and expectations—very different from what Trin and I had built together. I had to find a delicate rhythm between helping him feel seen, safe, and loved while also teaching him structure and boundaries.

He and I are both Geminis. He’s a June Gemini… and yes, that matters. We naturally test limits; we don’t like being told what to do—and now add TODDLER ENERGY to that? You can imagine the vibes Noah brought into the house.

There were power struggles, defiance, and moments that tested every fiber of my patience. And if I’m being honest—I didn’t always get it right.

There were times I was overwhelmed, under-supported, and overtired. Times when I led with frustration instead of softness. Times when I wish I had responded with more grace but didn’t. And that’s real—especially for single mothers doing this work alone.

Sometimes, I was the “mean mommy,” enforcing boundaries that felt foreign to him. And that created tension.

Noah knew. He knew Trin and I had history. He knew he was the new kid on the block, and that showed up in three major ways:

1. Regression in independence: While Trinity felt secure enough to grow into her independence, Noah craved being babied. He knew how to do certain things but would refuse—wanting all my attention on him.

2. Physical aggression: He became aggressive toward Trin and me, acting out his need for validation and belonging through hitting. And even with all my training and knowledge, I didn’t always respond in the most trauma-informed way. I yelled. I punished. I reacted instead of responding. And I cried many tears over those moments.

3. Increased anxiety: It showed up as hyperactivity. He was always on 20. His need for constant attention—rooted in deep abandonment wounds—was exhausting. Managing that while parenting another toddler and juggling three jobs? Whew. It was hard.

But you know what I did do well?

I loved him. I poured love into him. And slowly, the bond came—not as easily as it did with Trinity—but in its own beautiful way.

He was mine. And I was his.

Around the 7-month mark, his case progressed. His birth parent lost rights, and he was “freed” for adoption. I was offered first dibs to adopt Noah.

And I said no.

One of the hardest “no’s” I’ve ever said.

I felt guilty. I had convinced myself that it was my duty to adopt him, that I should want to.

But my intuition—the same voice that led me into fostering in the first place—told me: this isn’t the path.

Even after 10 months of bonding, being his mommy, watching him and Trin become “ghetto twins,” I knew in my heart I didn’t have the capacity to give Noah what he truly needed long-term. He needed to be the only child for a while. He needed more attention than I could give. He needed male energy. He needed family who could give him all that. And they existed.

So we began the transition.

I moved to Charlotte, and Noah went to live with his 79-year-old grandmother until he could be adopted by relatives in another state.

The last time I dropped him off in September, I kissed him, he hugged Trin, and I said, “We’ll see you soon.” He looked up and said:

“Bye Mommy.”

It broke me.

I felt like I was abandoning him. And I made the intentional choice to give him space to adjust. We waited two months before calling. And when we did—he was still the same energetic, beautiful Noah.

Trin missed him deeply. She called his name constantly. She hated being the only child again. She even made Sophia and I roleplay as “her and Noah,” pretending she was their mommy.

My heart broke for her loss too.

I went back and forth: Should I stay in his life? Would it be easier to walk away?

But love doesn’t work like that. And we are family.

And family means nobody gets left behind.

So I stayed connected—with his caseworker, his grandmother, and his future adoptive family.

We visited Noah this past weekend—our first time seeing him since September. It was bittersweet. He had some regressions, but he was still the same beautiful light. He was hesitant at first (understandably so), but he let us love on him.

And I want to keep showing up for him. I plan to stay connected, and if his family and ACS allow, I’d love for him to visit us in Charlotte.

Noah made me a better mother. A better human. And I will always be his family.

Thanks for reading this far. This is my fostering truth, and I’m grateful to share it with you.

May is National Foster Care Month, and I’ll be sharing stories throughout the month to celebrate this journey.

Thanks for reading!

"The Cost of Freedom is Faith!"

I love y'all for real!

XOXO Ayanna

Here’s a sweet photo of my babies:

Trinity and Noah reunited in April 2025!

My sweet boy Noah, chocolate wasted at Ihop!