Adopted. 

Cathy and Me Fall 2015I spent a lot of time texting with a friend tonight about adoption. She adopted 2 daughters and then gave birth to her 3rd (she had no idea she was pregnant until she went to the doctor for weird symptoms and they broke the news to her… Just imagine that for a minute).

Her adopted daughter is struggling with being able to articulate her feelings around her birth parents and she asked me if I would share my thoughts about my birth mother and father and maybe help a little.

I gladly shared. I’ve always known I was adopted. It was never a secret and everyone around me knew and never had a problem with it. Once I remember my older cousins trying to mess with me and tell me that one of my aunts was my real mom — yeah. Although I idolized them at the time I quickly realized as I got older that they were jerks – for that reason and many others. I have not had a relationship with them in decades.

Anyways – I’m always eager to hear other people’s adoption stories and share my thoughts. I don’t feel like I have a story — I was adopted when I was 6 weeks old. After I was born I loved I foster care until my mom and dad got the call there was a baby. I have a few cards from my foster brothers and sisters wishing me well and my name was Nancy (thank you Mom and Dad for choosing Melani). Then I was Mom and Dad’s. I’ve never wondered about the issues surrounding my being given up or why — I don’t care to seek out any of my biological parents.

I’m kinda curious if I have siblings – not enough to try and find them – because I was always jealous of people with siblings. I had a great childhood but I spent a lot of times with books and music — not a bad thing really but I didn’t have someone my age around a lot. I’m not curious enough to look for them though. Even if I found them I wouldn’t automatically have that experience or bond that a lifetime together gives people. It would be weird.

In my life I have gone back and forth between wanting to know and just not caring. I end up on not caring. My mom always offered to help me find my birth mom – but after she died my dad said that if I’d ever taken her up on the offer would’ve crushed her. She died when I was 19. I have a mom. She was a beautiful woman and a talented artist, and I always remember her singing.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s