Forget what you see on Oprah
Jun 23 '00 (Updated Nov 27 '00)
Adoption. Often, this word brings up the image of an unwed, teen mother. Well, if that is the "typical" image of adoption, my story is much different. I'm not really sure where this fits into in the Epinions category, but I feel I should pass this onto others.
My story
I was born in the late 60's to a woman who already had several older kids from a previous marriage. She was in the midst of divorcing my biological father when she found out she was pregnant with me. It was a tough decision, I'm sure. She also knew this young and loving couple who wanted to have kids, but medically were not able to have them. Unselfishly, she asked the husband if they were interested in adopting what was to become, me. Of course, my soon-to-be-adoptive-parents were overjoyed when they found out about me and they immediately got the adoption paperwork completed.
I was born in 1967 and adopted at the age of five days to a wonderful set of parents. Still unable to have children, but wanting more, they adopted a second child in June of 1969 when she was six weeks old. I really don't remember much about having a sister, but do remember lots of love and fun when I was little.
Not all was good growing up. Our house burned down when I was five and my adoptive mother had a stillborn baby when I was nine. Fortunately, they had a perfectly healthy baby when I was 13 and I was never so thankful as the day I first met her in the hospital.
Let the truth be told
All throughout our childhood, my parents were honest in letting us know that we were adopted. To protect me, however, they did not tell me that they actually knew who my biological mother was and that she was from the same city we lived in. When we were growing up, it was never an issue that we were adopted. For example, we always referred to each other as "sisters" not "step-sisters". To this very day, I consider both of my sisters flesh and blood and would do anything for them and my parents who adopted me.
Finding out
I received a phone call from one of my biological brothers in 1989. We met shortly after speaking on the phone and I met my biological mother within a few hours. It was a shocking moment to say the least and all of us were in tears. The real blow came when she told me that my adoptive parents knew who she was (when I asked them about this, they said that they had kept this from me to avoid me getting hurt, which I can completely understand).
Within a few hours, I found out that I had four older brothers and a sister. None of which knew I existed up until the week before contacting me. As they were all much older and when my biological mother was pregnant with me, she left the state to avoid any controversy (after all, this was the 60's and being an unwed mother was not socially accepted).
Getting through the layers
Within the first few days, we all talked endlessly about each other and caught up on what was going on in life. It was really great... for about a month. I call it "peeling the onion". In the beginning, it is all fine and good, and to a degree, is just like it is on the talk shows. However, after a while, and you get to know one another better, but there is still this huge gap of missing time (in my case, 22 years) that simply cannot be made up. After a while, they really didn't have much to say to me and I didn't have much to say to them. Another thing I noticed, was that my biological family was really close, and since I was gone all those years, I felt like a third wheel whenever I was around them.
My "real" family
Growing up, I never realized how much that the parents who adopted me really loved me until I saw the pain in their eyes when I would tell them about my biological family. It really tore them apart. Yes, they were glad that I found out where I came from, but I think that they (along with my sisters) would forget who really raised them. I now see that my "real" family are my adoptive parents: the ones who fed me, clothed me, sheltered me, loved me, and gave up many other things to have me.
And now
It will have been 11 long years this summer since I met my birth mother and biological family. Would I do it over again? Sadly, the answer is no. I would have done this meeting of my biological family on my terms and when I was ready. You see, I had absolutely no desire to meet my biological family and certainly no need to get to know them.
What I think of adoption
I feel that adoption is a great thing. I have a loving family and two wonderful sisters. I love the family that took me in, gave me a life and loved me. There is no words to fully describe them. They are the best family ever.
However, I do think that it is the child that should contact the biological family, not the other way around, if they so desire. In my case, I felt rejected and unwanted by my biological family. It was though I wasn't what they expected (even though I have a great job, nice home, good friends, and stable relationships). For years, I dealt with this rejection, but have pretty much accepted the fact that I can't change people.
If you are going to give a child up for adoption, please, think about it. It is one of the toughest decisions, but you will be giving life to a set of parents who are missing out on a great thing: parenting. And if you decide adoption is right for you, please don't disrupt the child's life by finding them once they become legal age, register on adoption boards and let them find you. Besides adoption, it is the second best gift you can give.
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Epinions.com ID:
gerper
|
 - Top 500 |
|
Member: gerper
Location: Seattle
Reviews written: 223
Trusted by: 168 members
About Me:
After seven years, I'm back...
|
|
|
© 1999-2009 Shopping.com, Inc.