Being adopted...

Okay. So you may or may not know that I'm adopted. I was adopted at 3 months old. For the first 3 months of my life, I lived in a foster home until my adoption was final. Recently, more people that I'm close with here in Gulfport have found out that I was adopted and began asking questions which is totally okay. I realize that for someone that isn't adopted it's kind of difficult to see it from my point of view and to wonder how I feel about it. Well today while I was blog stalking, I came across a blog called christianadoptionservices.blogspot.com, and they posted a list of questions that an adult adoptee had felt about their adoption. I have to say I've never seen this so plain and clear but this is exactly how I felt growing up.

"Questions that crossed a 29 year old adult adoptee’s mind growing up. Take a look at this list and do everything in your power to be able to answer these questions for your child.

1. Does my birthmom miss me?
2. Did she look at me when I was born?
3. Did I mean the world to her?
4. Did she say my name to my face?
5. Was I loved?
6. Did she want me?
7. Did she care?
8. Is she my real birth mom since she doesn’t look like me?
9. Why did she leave me?
10. Why did she keep my siblings instead of me?
11. Lack of money?
12. Did she love my dad?
13. Was I a one night stand?
14. Was it a summer romance?
15. What time was it?
16. Who held her hand?
17. Was I a problem?
18. Am I erased?
19. Was she afraid?
20. Was I quickly taken away?
21. What was the day like?
22. Was it sad?
23. What about my grandparents?"


Now having Harrison and about to have Morgan, I can't imagine giving up my children for anything. I can't imagine seeing their tiny faces and then giving them to someone else. I can't imagine wondering every year on their birthday what they are doing and how they are. I want to be the crazy mom that takes 10,000 prom pictures. I want to be there to see them walk across the stage when they graduate. I want to see them get married and have children of their own. As for my biological mom, she missed all this. She doesn't know me. She knows exactly where I am and how to get in touch with me (because I found her) but she still doesn't. Honestly, it hurts. It hurts a lot and I used to hate her. I hated her until one of my friends told me that it took way more energy to hate her then to just deal with it. I was almost 26 when I found her and now I just tell myself that I didn't need her in my life the first 26 years and I don't need her now. I know I'm one of the lucky ones. I was adopted by a great family that is a little dysfuctional but whose family isn't. I know that not all kids are as lucky as me. I was adopted by parents that gave me everything I've ever needed and they still do!