Soul of Adoption

I’ve heard this (or some variation) throughout my life, more times than I could ever count. I remember specific instances when this was said to me as a child. It was the standard response any time I mentioned anything about my adoption - to anyone.

This sentiment is supposed to be reassuring. It is supposed to make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It does neither. If you are not an adoptee, think about how it would feel for someone to say that to you as a child about YOUR mother. Would you feel loved if your mother “gave you up”?

Here, let’s try something - get up from your computer, walk to wherever your child is right this minute, lean over them and say, “I can’t take care of you, but I love you so much, I’m going to give you away to someone who can.”

Did you do it? Did your child burst into tears? Did they look at you with horror? You know you didn’t get up and say that to your child and so do I. Why? Because you know damn well that saying such a thing to your child would hurt them, and it would hurt you to say it.

Go ahead, admit it, you’ll feel better.

As an adoptee, I have heard a laundry list of platitudes, cliches and one-liners which are designed to dictate how I am supposed to feel about my own adoption. I have been told, in no particular order:

• You’re so lucky.
• I wish I was adopted, my parents suck.
• You should be grateful, at least you’re not in an orphanage.
• How can you feel that way? Look at all the things your parents gave you!
• That’s so cool!
• Why would you want to search? They didn’t want you.
• You weren’t born, you were chosen. That makes you special.
• You should be happy someone wanted you.
• Why aren’t you more grateful?
• Tell your parents they can adopt me. I’d be grateful for all the cool stuff they have.
• Why do you care about her? She gave you away.
• Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Be grateful for what you’ve got.
• She didn’t want you then, why would she want you now?
• What’s wrong with you? You should just be thankful. There’s a lot of kids who don’t have a family.

Think I’m kidding? I’m not. Sadly enough.

I am 35 years old. I am a wife, a mother, a successful webmaster. I own and operate one of the largest cross-triad adoption support sites on the internet. You’re looking at it right now, reading this. I have a perfect marriage, a beautiful home, food in my pantry and a full tank of gas in my car. I am thankful for these things.

I am also adopted. I can never not BE adopted. Aside from being born, it is the event that most shaped how the rest of my life would unfold. I was born on one path, the path that involved my mom, then suddenly thrust down a new path - a path on which I would never see her again. For this, I am to be grateful, supposedly - and comforted by the idea that she “loved me enough” to - what? To never see me again? To never let me see her again? This is supposed to be a GOOD thing?

Tell me - would your son or daughter consider it a good thing if you sent them down a new path, one which did not include you?

So why should I consider it a good thing?

I have found my family. For that, I am thankful. Unfortunately, I must continue to mourn the loss of my mom - because she died 8 years before I found her. I have pictures of her. I have the memories of her my siblings share with me. I have touched things she touched. I have hugged people she hugged. I have been in homes she has been in. Walked the same path, spent time with the same people, held the same things.

But I cannot see her. I do not have memories of her. I cannot touch her. I cannot hug her. I cannot be in the same home with her. I cannot walk with her, spend time with her, hold her.

Did she love me enough to deprive me of those things? Do you really think that’s what went through her mind when she relinquished me? Was this truly what was best for me?

And for all this. For all this loss. For all this grief.

I should be thankful?

Would you be?

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