Motherhood is an interesting job. I find that I grow up alongside each child. Now, I am the mother of a newborn. Now, I am the mother of a 5-year-old. Now, I am the mother of a tween. And so on.

With each age and phase, the job of motherhood is redefined. The concerns that keep me awake at night, the milestones that loom in my mind — they change and grow and morph. And with each subsequent child, I find myself remembering, oh, so this is how it is to be the parent of a toddler. There are flashes of familiarity, and yet each time, it feels strange and new, because each child brings her own unique traits into the world.

I view motherhood from three major viewpoints: I am the parent of an absent child (we lost a baby to a rare kidney disease); the parent of an adopted child; and the parent of two biological children. There is much to say about each role, but today, I am writing specifically about what I have learned from being an adoptive mother. An intriguing question, because in many ways, I do not distinguish my daughter who was adopted from my daughters who were born to me. And yet, in full honesty, there are many ways in which being an adoptive mother is indeed different. Here are my observations:

Read the full story on the Huffington Post…