An Adoptee’s Perspective

I can’t remember not knowing I was adopted.  Before I could even understand the concept of adoption my parents told me that my Mommy didn’t think she could have a baby in her tummy and it made her very sad. So she prayed that God would bring her a baby to love and then one day, she heard a noise on the front porch, looked out and there I was!  A baby sent from God to be their daughter. 

Eventually, I came to understand the concept of adoption and was told that my Birth Mom was very young and unable to care for me so she made the most heartbreaking decision of her life and placed me for adoption, so that I would be raised in a famiy that loved and cared for me in a way that she was unable to. My parents always emphasized what a sacrifice it was for her…that she loved me enough to let me go.

I always felt special.  And when my Mom eventually got pregnant with my brother, it was never an issue.  I wasn’t their adopted daughter, I was their daughter. And when, as young siblings do, we were arguing and my brother brought up the fact that he was Mom and Dad’s biological kid, I didn’t blink an eye in saying, “Yeah, well they had to take what they got with you, they PICKED me!”  Never another mention of it…ever!  I’m the chosen one, and my brother is the miracle child.  Both loved by our parents unconditionally.  Both love each other unconditionally.

My adoption was completely confidential.  It was back in the day before open adoption was valued for its benefits.  As a result, I didn’t have any genetic or medical information.  I only knew bits and pieces of my Birth Mom’s story.  I knew she was single and pregnant and wanted the best for me. I never had a desire to meet my Birth Mom growing up.  I just had a peace at knowing that she loved me. Every year on my birthday, I would find myself thinking about her and knowing that somewhere, she was thinking of me.  I would pray that God would give her a special hug from me.

When I was 26, I decided it was time to get some medical information if that was possible.  I also really wanted to make sure that she knew how very much I loved her and thanked her for the precious gift she gave me by placing me in the perfect family.  I couldn’t stand the thought that somewhere out there, she thought her first-born resented her.  My love for her was and is so big.

I first spoke with my parents before searching for her.  I had to have their blessing or it was a no-go.  Fortunately, they were absolutely 100% behind it and within a matter of days, I was on a plane to meet my Birth Mom and 2 half-sisters.

I remember her telling me that she didn’t know how much she needed to hear that I loved and thanked her for the sacrifice she made until she heard it from me. And wouldn’t you know, she’s adopted, too!  She is an amazing woman, and I’m so blessed to have expanded my family to include two beautiful sisters!

My parents are still and always will be my parents.  They are the ones who raised me, taught me right from wrong, showed me Christ’s love, kissed my hurt, cheered me on, corrected my mistakes and loved me unconditionally.

They loved me so much that when I was unable to conceive, there was no doubt that adoption was the choice for my family. My daughter carries forth the Legacy of Love. I ask her if being adopted makes her feel different.  Her response?  “Well, yeah!  It makes me special!  My Birth Mom loved me so much she placed me in the best family ever!”