Jenn Gulbrand on Adoption & Motherhood

Photos: Stephanie C. Olsen

By Jenn Gulbrand

When I traveled to Russia to meet my daughter for the first time, I felt an overwhelming mix of immense love and deep sorrow—the love of finally becoming her mother, and the sorrow of knowing she had already endured so much loss before she even arrived in my life. I held her in my arms and felt the weight of both of our stories—two souls shaped by adoption, two hearts carrying unspoken grief, two humans bound together in something entirely new.

Because that’s the truth about adoption: it does not erase loss.

I had always dreamt of becoming a mother through pregnancy and birth. After four miscarriages—each between 12–14 weeks—I began to face the reality that my body might not be able to carry a pregnancy to term. On the fifth attempt, I carried our twin boys well beyond the fragile early stages. We allowed ourselves to believe we were in the clear.

Then, at 20 weeks, everything shifted. I went into premature labor, enduring 18 agonizing hours of contractions with the unbearable knowledge that my babies’ lungs would not sustain them outside my body. They died within seconds of being born.

The grief of that loss was all-consuming. There is no handbook for how to wake up and keep breathing when your arms are empty. And yet, somewhere in the depths of that grief, a quiet knowing stirred: I was still meant to be a mother. My path would simply look different.

Adoption, at its core, is a paradox—both a loss and a beginning. It severs one bond to create another. And for those of us who have lived it, whether as adoptees or adoptive parents, we know it’s never a simple fairy tale of being “chosen” or “rescued.” It is layered, complex, and deeply emotional.

As an adoptee, I spent much of my life navigating questions of identity and belonging. I wrestled with feelings of abandonment, of not fitting in, of wondering if I was “good enough” to be kept. That history shaped how I saw myself, my relationships, and my capacity for trust.

When I chose to adopt, it wasn’t to replace the children I had lost. That would be impossible. It was about creating a homecoming—for my daughter, and for the little girl inside me still searching for belonging.

As an adoptive mother, my role wasn’t to shield my daughter from her grief, but to walk beside her in it. No matter how much love I poured into her, I could not change the past or erase the separation from her biological family. Adoption is built on both love and loss, and pretending otherwise does a disservice to the children who live that reality every day.

Mothering a child who has known loss requires more than love. It demands radical honesty, patience, and a willingness to hold their pain without trying to fix it. Her grief is not a reflection of my love, just as my own feelings of loss as an adoptee were never a reflection of my adoptive parents’ love.

Motherhood, I’ve learned, is not about possession. It’s about presence. It’s about becoming the person my child needs, even when that means confronting my own wounds in the process.

In our culture, motherhood is often framed as a biological bond—a child born of you, carrying your DNA, an extension of your lineage. But I have experienced motherhood as something far greater. It is my calling, my choice, and a sacred journey of my heart.

Becoming an adoptive mother forced me to face an uncomfortable truth: I could not give my daughter a sense of belonging if I didn’t believe, in my own bones, that I belonged. I could not offer her emotional safety if I hadn’t created it within myself.

So motherhood became a dual journey— re-parenting my own inner child while parenting my daughter. Reclaiming my worth so I could reflect that worth back to her. Breaking cycles of silence, shame, and unworthiness so she could grow up free of them.

One of the most unexpected gifts of adoption has been the opportunity to heal generational wounds. That healing has shaped every facet of my work—from creating WeBreathe Wellness and Soul Alignment Studios as supportive spaces for people to gather and heal, to writing Embody Your Essence and publishing the SheBreathes Soul Stories anthology, to hosting a podcast and leading retreats.

My trauma-informed, somatic approach allows me to help other women break free from past conditioning and step into their most authentic, empowered selves. Every time I guide a client, I think of the little girl I once was—unworthy, unseen, disconnected, and alone.

I do this work for her.

I do this work for my daughter.

I do this work for every woman who has ever questioned her worth.

Adoption has taught me that motherhood is an unfolding practice—forgiving myself for mistakes, letting go of control, embracing the unknown, and trusting that unconditional love is enough.

To my fellow adoptive mothers, and to the women walking the path of healing, know this:

You are enough.

Your love matters.

Your presence is a gift.

And the safe, loving space you create for your child changes not only their life, but yours as well.

To my daughter, my greatest teacher:

You have always been cherished.

You have always been wanted.

You were meant to be loved exactly as you are.

And that is my most sacred truth.

Jenn Gulbrand is an author, speaker, podcast host, retreat leader, and holistic healer. An adoptee and adoptive mother, she writes with depth and compassion about identity, belonging, resilience, and the transformative power of unconditional love. Founder of Soul Alignment Retreats & Studios, WeBreathe Wellness Center, and the SheBreathes Soul Stories Movement, Jenn creates safe, sacred spaces for love, self-discovery, and healing. Blending storytelling, somatic healing, science, and soulful community, she guides others toward deeper self-acceptance, authentic connection, and wholeness. Visit JennGulbrand.com.