Thoughts from an Adoptee

Adoption. Most people don't really know what it's like to be raised by parents who aren't truly blood related. But with myself, I grew up only knowing this life. I can't really remember a time when I didn't know that I had a second mother and father. My adoptive parents always raised me to know and understand that I was adopted. Growing up with this sense of mind, young me thought that everyone knew what adoption was. Since I was a 90's baby ('98 to be exact), most adoptions at this time were closed adoptions. This means that once I was put with my adoptive parents, I would have no contact with my birth mother. So my whole life I grew up knowing very little about my birth mom, so my mind would always wander and ask questions that turned into crazy dreams and ideas.

My adoption was pre-planned before I was born which was also quite common and still is today. Many times, I have asked my parents what they had to do to be able to adopt me and I found out a few years ago that they didn't get to choose me. They filled out a file which was like a resume about their life, financials and such which was then given to an adoption agency. From there, mothers looking to place their child up for adoption would look at these files and choose the set of parents that they thought would provide the best life for their child. Now that I'm older, looking back at this I couldn't imagine being in my birth mother's shoes. She had so much resting on her shoulders to make sure that she could choose the best family that I would spend my life with. Her choices let me live the life I have now and I couldn't be more grateful for that. She could have chosen any other family but I got placed with mine and they love me like their own if not as their true natural born child.

My parents spent years waiting to be chosen for not just me, but also for my younger brother who is also adopted. When I was brought home, I always looked like my parents, especially my dad. We were both brunettes with blue eyes and a rounder face while my mom only had the dark hair like me. For my younger brother, that was a different story. When he was brought home to us, he was a sore thumb against us. He was a bright blonde and had hazel eyes, all on top of an angular face. So growing up, my parents would always be asked if only my little brother was adopted which bothered me. Even as a young girl I thought how ignorant people were sometimes to assume that a child can only be adopted if they don't look like their parents.

But growing up knowing almost nothing about my birth mom made me wonder so many different things and raised questions in my mind. Did my birth mom and dad still talk? Has my birth mom had other kids, and if so does that mean I have younger siblings I don't know about? These questions and more raced through my head all the time and I never could ever have an answer for them as I grew up. Knowing that I could have a second family and have missed out on their lives scares me a bit.

I was always told that I wasn't going to be much taller than 5'3" or so give or take an inch because my birth mom and her side of the family was quite short. That was quickly changed as I grew past that and am now 5'8" so that lets me know my birth father was quite tall. With knowing this, I was intrigued to know more about where my talents come from. My adoptive family is full of very caring, social and musical people. My parents can't sing in tune to save their lives but I grew up around my aunts, uncles and cousins who could sing and play instruments very well. So I wondered: Did I become good at singing because of my genetics from my birth parents or is it because of the environment I grew up in? This and many other questions about my traits cross my thoughts all the time and I can never give myself or anyone a true answer to where it comes from.

One day I hope to get these answers and so much more as I soon hope to reach out to my birth mother. Now that I am 19, I am able to reach out to my birth mother through my adoption agency and get in contact with her. Learning who I am and where I truly came from is something I live for. But most of all, I want to thank my mother for the life she was able to let me have even though I know giving up your own child is heartbreaking and it takes a strong woman to do that.