The Right Kind of Person

Having spent a significant amount of time with my stepson's daughter, my 'step' granddaughter, as in granddaughter I am not biologically related to, I stand by my belief that a love, or a bond if you prefer, can develop that's as strong or stronger that those of the blood related category.

It's also my opinion, though, that it takes a certain kind of person with a certain kind of attitude or openness.

A person who loves children of all ages and thinks about how they're thinking and feeling, cares about what their individual fears and emotional needs are. Of course this is important for all who are involved in raising children, it's just that with adoption or fostering or kinship care there's an opportunity to try and ensure that those children who for whatever reason aren't being raised by their biological parents will be placed with people who are right for the responsibility. People who adopt and want to love and raise other people's children because they can't have their own should be thoroughly screened and continue to be assessed to see if they're actually doing it properly. Really the same should apply to those who volunteer to foster, those we choose to stepparent our children, and even those caring for extended family members.

Outside influences can greatly affect emotional investment, another reason why it's very important the right kind of person is replacing biological parents. The right kind of person has the ability to not only empathize and be dedicated to thinking about how a child that's in their care is feeling and responding, but also to parent without ego, something I still feel is a key factor in being the best mom or dad one can be.

I would suggest to those who are caring for the children of others, in whatever capacity that may be happening, to concentrate on the child and nurturing that relationship and to work hard to separate how those around you are behaving and not take it out on the child. This could be a spouse, a sister or brother, parent, bio parent, in-law, neighbor, co-worker, or even a stranger in a grocery store. It's not easy and sometimes we have to back away or change the way we relate to the adults in our lives but if you're that right kind of person, you'll do everything in your power to not allow others to negatively affect the child.

The right kind of person will be dedicated to parenting without ego and keep the focus on the child and his or her emotional needs.

Honestly, it will be easier to be a grandmother to my own son's children. I do look forward to it, look forward to the ease with which I'll be able to relate to my son as a parent because of the great relationship he and I enjoy. We can discuss anything openly and honestly, with respect and care for one another which is something that's very helpful to a grandparent. That said, I couldn't love my darling, non blood related, little granddaughter anymore than I do.

I'm grateful I get to be that right kind of person.

Lucky to have had you

 What I am is what my life has been. Some of it out of my control, some of it my choices, my decisions.

Being adopted isn't just something that happened to me, it is me, it is my story.

I was adopted. It is me. Maybe for better, certainly not for worse, it is me, it is my story.

I try and think about how things used to be, before I met my bio mom, before we communicated via email regularly. I remember not knowing, not fretting too much about ever knowing, feeling a picture would suffice. I'd always thought I'd like to see if I looked especially like anyone, to know what my bio parents looked like.

I remember the non identifying exchange of letters, how satisfying it was to know she was well, to see she felt the same as I did.

I think about all the times I was relieved to be adopted, to not be genetically tied to my mom's (adoptive) side of our family. 

The following is an exchange between my bio mom and myself following our meeting in person.

Her: I just wanted to write you and let you know that I feel your parents did a great job raising you and your mom should be proud.  You are a very pleasant and thoughtful person, which can only partially be credited to genes.

Me: I think I credit my awesomeness (you made my day with your words, thank you) to my dad and my genes, now that I've had a peek at them. I imagine it's not easy for non adopted people to understand the combination of curiosity and trepidation about biological background. I've spent my life thanking my lucky stars not to have inherited any of the "crazy" genes in my family so if I'd discovered my heritage was the same, if not worse, it would have burst my little bubble haha. Believe me when I say this, I've been the envy of many a cousin when family shenanigans went on. Them saying, is this what I have to look forward to? and me saying, phew! dodged that bullet.

As much of the nuttiness was on my mom's side, my dad would shake his head and say, "Campbell, all I can say is thank god you're adopted". I remember us talking and me saying, what if my biological people are whacko? He'd say, nah, they're not and I can tell just by the way you are. My dad was very proud of me, as I am of him.

 Tomorrow is my dad's birthday. I was just reading a post about a great grandpa/grand daughter relationship and I feel touched and happy for that grand daughter and I feel happy for my son, my father's grandson.

"Being related by blood doesn’t necessarily mean that you are close or that your natural family will be there for you or take care of you when the chips hit the fan." - Sunday Koffron

You haven't changed a bit

I'm writing this to keep my thoughts fresh, whether or when I actually post this remains to be seen, but I'll know when I know.

I liked my bio mom. She and her family seem to be my kind of people, which feels good to know, that I come from good people. I asked her if her parents were nice to which she replied an enthusiastic yes, they were great and her mom was especially good and kind, someone whom everyone adored. This makes me feel very good for some reason. Maybe because I'd imagined they were harsh, religious monsters who'd have been ashamed of her and resented me, or both. I was wrong.

They didn't know about me, but they could have been told. They would have helped my bio mom, in fact they did, just without knowledge of what was really going on.

My nerves pre meeting were extremely hard to control. As I sat and waited for her to appear in the lobby I called my son to just hear a normal voice, to assure myself I'd not entered the twilight zone. I pictured myself in my favorite ocean spot as I often do when I need to calm myself, took deep breaths, and focused.

Our experience of first sight was different for each of us. I had the luxury of having seen ahead what she looked like, having seen what her family looks like, their names and ages whereas she knew little of me and only knew what I'd looked like as an infant. I've changed a bit since then.

When I got up to walk over to greet her my sensitivity to her feelings kicked back in and my nerves dissolved. I knew though that wasn't the case for her so I said a warm hello and asked if she'd like to sit for a minute before we went to my car, that I'd been feeling nervous and wouldn't mind just sitting for a second to calm down. Her face appeared grateful as she said she was feeling very nervous as well.

We sat for a time kind of consoling each other, looking at each others faces for resemblances, me trying to see myself, her trying to see anyone and everyone.
I can see that I will look like her when I'm older, she can't see much familiar in me except for maybe her father's side of the family.

We had a great day and were together for 8 straight hours that really flew by. She likes to talk, which was good because I wanted to hear her talk. I talked too and this was when she was able to see herself in me, specifically how I look at family, the things I think are important to do and not do. This also made me feel good.

She was very open with me about what happened, something I imagine most adopted people wonder about. This made me feel good too.

I was supposed to call when I got home, we'd had a couple of beers over the day and she was concerned about me driving. When I arrived home I got caught up in telling my husband about the day and kind of forgot about calling. The words she and I had spoken as I was leaving seemed sort of final, unless she decided to be in touch at some point in the future, so I wasn't even so sure I was still supposed to call. As my husband and I talked, the phone rang and it was her, checking to see if I was home, reminding me I'd said I'd let her know.

Before I went to bed, I sent one last email to thank her for taking the time to, and for going through the trouble of, meeting me, to apologize for not having called, that I'd enjoyed our visit. To tell her to take care.

When I woke up this morning I thought to myself, well, it's happened. You've met your biological mother, you're still special, and you haven't changed a bit.

Dear friend, so you're thinking of adopting. Want to talk about it?

Dear friend,

This is what I'd like to tell you about the possibility of you adopting, so far. There may be more things I haven't thought of as of yet, but I don't want to forget what's on my mind now.

I don't think I need to ask you why you want to adopt. I think that's a no brainer. You want another child to raise. Do the reasons really matter? I guess they do if the reasons are to provide your son with a playmate or have someone to do chores in your home or any other frivolous or ridiculous reason unrelated to the actual love for children and parenting. Hopefully this isn't the case, for if it is, I'm wasting my time and energy talking to you.

I would like to ask you if you've truly thought about what it is you're planning to do. Have you researched with an open mind, been receptive to anything negative you've heard about adoption? Can you truly love a child that isn't your own blood? Do you have the time and energy needed for more children? Are you doing the best you can for the son you already have? What makes you a good parent?

Not all adopted people feel like I do. There are adopted people who hate the fact they were adopted. Some say they'd have preferred to have been aborted. How will you feel if your child resents having been adopted? I don't know the magical formula to raising an adopted child that is at peace with having been adopted. I don't think anyone does.

Do you know, truly know, that adoption begins with loss? There can be loss of dreams, of identity, of heredity, culture. For some there can be a loss of trust, self worth, and even loss of lightness of soul and spirit. That the loss can be far reaching to grandparents, aunts and uncles, siblings. Can you relate to that loss without feeling threatened or hurt? Can you parent with confidence and the ability to recognize the difference between your child's confusion about, and reaction to, being adopted and the regular angst that goes along with growing up? Will you be able to embrace and value your children's unique personalities and needs? Will you know when to "blame" adoption and when not to? Will you know when to discuss adoption with your children? Will you even be capable of discussing adoption with your children? How will you go about it? Will you do things by "the book" you're given by an agency or social worker or will you be able to think it through and follow your children's lead or know when you need to take the lead? Will you understand and support any "need to know" your child may have? Will they feel sure of your love and commitment therefore comfortable to talk (or not talk) about everything adoption related? Will you expect them to be grateful to you for everything you've provided them with, materially and/or emotionally and hold it over their head?

Will you refuse to become involved in an adoption that may feel unethical? Will you be able to recognize a parent or parents who are giving you a child they truly want and can raise out of an obligation to "keep their promise" to you? Do you believe me when I say nobody should make the decision to promise their child to another person without having seen and touched their child? It's sad but true that parents go through with adoptions that are against their better judgment because they don't want to disappoint the adoptive parents they've come to know and care about. Do you know that at that point it's not about you but about the child and what's best for it? It's never best for a child to be given away when it's wanted and can be raised by the people who brought it into this world. Picture yourself being told you need not have been adopted, that you were adopted through shady, or worse, conditions just so your (adoptive) parents could have you or an agency could make some money. We can all picture these scenarios if we try hard. One shouldn't have to be adopted to understand how confusing this would be, how devastating finding out your life and what you've always believed to be true is a lie. Believe me, adopted people worry about their biological mothers and wonder if they're ok until they know, if they ever get to know. Don't adopt without a clear conscience. If you're unsure, be strong enough to just walk away, to put your needs second to a child's.

Do you understand what open adoptions are? Have you been honest with yourself about this and your ability to parent a child under that type of circumstance? Think about it!! It cannot be easy, there is just no way. Will you be able to deal with the jealousy? With the fear? With your child's jealousy and fear? Will you be able to handle your child's biological parents feelings if they're regretful or will you just cut off contact to protect yourself and your family? If you don't think you can do an open adoption, don't! If there aren't any parents who want a closed adoption, don't adopt!

I don't think you plan to adopt from another country. If I'm wrong, and you do, try and remember you are as Caucasian as they come. THIS WILL MATTER. There are people to seek out who are qualified to discuss interracial adoption, and being as Caucasian as you, I am not one of them.

I wonder if you've thought at all about foster care. I think about foster care, have always. I think I'd be a great foster parent, especially now that my son is grown. I cannot be a foster parent though, and it's really just because of one thing. My husband would not want to foster parent. In fact, neither would have my ex husband, my son's father. I could try and persuade, pull out all the stops and say I'd do everything, that it isn't important for us both to want to do it. Who knows, my husband could say ok to try and please me, right? But, it's not supposed to be about me. It's supposed to be about kids who need families, parents or a parent. Every child born deserves to have some kind of family, whether it be blood or not, but no child deserves to exist in a situation where they're resented or unwanted by even one family member, blood or not. I believe that someone who isn't initially on board with providing a home for a child without one, whether it be through foster care or adoption, can change their mind and eventually embrace said child but....isn't it too big of a risk to take that they won't ever? I wouldn't even force a pet dog on my family if they didn't want the responsibility, why would I do it to a child?

I am not against adoption. I am not against you personally adopting. I am against people not properly preparing themselves for the act of adopting a child, or for that matter, having their own biological children. Against them wearing blinders to the difficulties and the effort and sacrifice that is necessary to do our very best. It's not about you so it's nothing like entering into a shitty marriage or staying in one, it's not about the harm you could do to yourself not listening to warnings about smoking or overeating or driving without a seat belt. It's different when you're holding another human being's childhood in your hands, affecting their future by what you do in the present. We all ignore advise all the time, but please don't ignore what I'm trying to tell you here.

There are many things people try to warn and educate each other about. More often than not the effort is ignored and people either learn the hard way or never learn at all. Fine. It's your life and it's our right to mess up our own lives but it isn't our right to mess up an innocent child's life, biological or not.

My friend, please think long and hard about what you're doing because it's not what you're doing to yourself, not about how you will be affected. It's about our children and what they need, deserve, and have the right to.

Oh yeah, if you do end up adopting, make sure you get a copy of your child's original birth certificate.

Someday they may be an adult who wants it.

Sunny sky for our fair weather daughter

So, in the spirit of being honest, I'd like to share a recent search event. For the record, being honest is something I take seriously whereas fun and interesting I'm aware is a matter of personal taste. Call me boring, but don't accuse me of being dishonest.

So in another rare moment of being alone in my home Monday I decided to try calling my biological mother's phone number again. It wasn't quite as frightening this time, mainly I think because I didn't expect her to answer. She did. It went quite smoothly actually. She let me know she was on the other line to which I replied I wouldn't keep her long, that I was just wondering if she'd received any of my messages. Turns out she had received my very first Christmas card and note and had replied via email, back in January. For whatever reason, who ever really knows what happens in cyberspace sometimes, I didn't receive the email.

To my surprise, she told me that she was planning a trip in the fall and had been considering stopping in my city, if it could work out that way. Huh...what?!?!? To say this surprised me would be an understatement. I replied that although that might be interesting, wow, she didn't HAVE to do that, meeting her wasn't what I was after, that I really just wanted to have some communication and some questions answered, to let her know I had no intention of outing her to her family or of showing up some day on her doorstep, that I'd done quite a bit of digging around on the internet and had found pictures, obituaries and other various online morsels of information about her and her family. Having not really expected her to even answer the phone you can imagine how the mention of meeting up out of the blue would be freaky...yes, *blush*, I think I used that word on the phone...sigh.

Ironically, I thinks it's irony, when I said I'd let her get back to her call, she told me it had been her daughter on the other line and that she'd hung up now. I gave her my email address again and she said she'd try it and I could mail her back if I got her email, which I quickly did saying I'd send another longer one shortly.

I wrote a mail outlining my attitude toward our whole situation, relayed some of the things I'd be interested in knowing, thanked her for making contact and described what a relief it was to me to no longer worry that she was worrying about me disrupting her life. I was happy to have been given the opportunity to explain my motive in initiating contact. I explained in a bit more detail what I'd found out about her on my own and told her that although I was surprised at the possibility of meeting her so soon, I think it's something I'd be ok doing.

So, there are the facts. I'd like to add a couple of things to this post, the first being she made it clear again in her short mail that nobody ever knew about me except for her deceased husband and she would like to keep it that way for now, although if her husband were still alive, things might be different. I reassured her that I have no problem with this and told her I have genuine compassion for her situation.

The second thing I'd like to mention is that when I sent her the second, longer email, I didn't hear back immediately. This left me wondering if she'd gotten either reply email. I waited two days to see if I'd hear back and when I didn't I sent a very short mail asking her to please let me know if she'd received them when she had a minute. I heard back almost immediately that she had and that's all her email said.

I see much written about mis-communication between reuniting biological parents and their grown children. I think it's important to give each other the benefit of the doubt. It's important to realize methods of communication (email, voice mail, snail mail) can fail and that we don't know each other in the slightest. We don't know each others habits or thought processes, each others moods or life experiences.

My plan is to remain patient, respectful, compassionate, realistic and honest. Is that interesting or fun? Not so much, I know, but hopefully it will serve me well in my journey as an adopted person who's possibly been given the opportunity to have my curiosity satisfied and perhaps meet the person who gave birth to me.

The me I might have been

A co-worker/friend and I were discussing adoption last week. We discuss (talk incessantly) about lots of things but adoption comes up fairly often for obvious reasons. This particular conversation came up as "my search guy" had called and asked if I'd heard anything from my biological mother since writing her the last letter.

The circumstances surrounding my being adopted was one of the things my co-worker and I were once again discussing and I was explaining to her that some adopted people refer to themselves as bastards and how although I have no problem with that and kind of understand why they would, why they can, but because of this it's occurred to me that had I not been adopted, it's very likely I would have been thought of and treated like I was a bastard, in the true sense of the word.

Having been born 47 years ago to a woman who was very involved in the Catholic religion, fathered by a man who was married but separated, would not have likely been the occasion of celebration most births are. I think it's safe to say that had I been kept and raised by an unmarried woman under these circumstances I would most assuredly have a different feeling about myself now. I would have grown up that grandchild, that niece, that cousin, that sister who was illegitimate, that unwanted stain of shame. I've been told that being adopted doesn't make me chosen, that my parents would have taken any child that had come up, and, I know this is true, but I was wanted and was treated by everyone in my family as if I was.

My personality type is very sensitive to negativity. I can't stand it when I think someone's mad at me although as I've matured I realize not everyone likes everyone and sometimes some people just aren't worth the effort or compromise it would take for them to like me.

I am relieved to have grown up wanted, to have grown up without an undeserved stigma, to be adopted and wanted rather than an unwanted bastard. I shudder to think of the me I might have been.

If it ain't broke, you can't fix other things?

I quite often wonder why my experience of being adopted hasn't made me hate adoption. I mean, the obvious reason why I don't hate adoption is because my being adopted worked. What I'm talking about is WHY did my adoption work out, seemingly for all concerned.

My parents, although not happy with me all the time, seem to have enjoyed what they got. Not that that is really all that important since they actively sought out another kid to raise, and paid a whole $25 . I'm just saying, I think they've gotten their moneys worth out of me. I think they're satisfied customers, happy campers, so to speak.

My biological mother, well, she told me herself she's had a good life. She's gone on to have other children and didn't spend her life regretting giving me to someone else. I'm afraid my recent attempt for communication via snail mail has likely made her wary of being outed, something for which I'm sorry, but didn't expect since I was led to believe she was interested in further communication, albeit anonymous which it no longer is.

Biological father, don't know anything concrete about him and can't without biological mother's help. He's likely dead though now anyway. In fact, who knows if he even knew about me, so I can surmise his life was/is good enough.

My siblings, they seemed to like me enough. I've never felt they weren't "real" nor have they ever given me any indication they felt any different toward me. None of us were blood to each other, didn't make a damn bit of difference as far as I can tell. My sister, the other adopted one , is fine enough with being adopted too.

I, with the exception of the usual bumps in the road of adoption.... finding out my sister wasn't biological, realizing it wasn't a nurse that had babies for people who couldn't and that there was a real person out there somewhere who might not be as happy as me (did she have anyone to love her? did she have enough food?), and such other moments of realization, am at peace with the situation and feel no sense of rejection or abandonment. I have no resentment toward my biological parents or jealousy toward half siblings. With the exception of mild curiosity and a slight annoyance at not having heard back from my biological mother again, I'm cool with it all.

At this point, it leaves me with a big fat why. Why am I cool with it?

I don't have a storybook relationship with my mom, but, maybe my dad made up for that.

My parents were not wealthy by any stretch, but, money's not really ever been that much of a priority to me. I'd love to have scads of it, win a lottery or something, but as long as I have enough, I'm happy.

I don't especially look like anyone in my family, but have kind of told myself that I look like my dad's side, if I didn't have dark hair that is.

My personality isn't markedly similar to anyone in my family, but, there are things I have in common with lots of them and I've always been very relieved to have not inherited any crazy genes, that I know about anyway.

From my understanding, in 1963, they tried to match people up. Kind of find family similarities and values although I think there was likely lots of lying and omitting going on so how much this did to contribute to the success of my adoption is debatable. I was NOT adopted into a family of a different color or culture or from another country. These things, I think now, can make a huge difference between adopted people's experiences.

I've had my moments in life when I've felt  inferior, made bad decisions, behaved recklessly, but for the life of me I cannot connect that with my being adopted.

I've been told my good experience makes me privileged, and I guess that may be so, but I can assure you it in no way lessens my compassion and concern for those less fortunate, makes me any less determined to do my small part in addressing adoption dysfunction.

Thing is, I think it would be so helpful in fixing what's wrong, if I could just figure out what went right.....for me.

"There is no clear cut answer to this problem."

I disagree, I think there are very clear cut answers to this problem.

Some of them being that average, everyday people should not be allowed to adopt older children unless they (the adopters) have been thoroughly assessed psychologically and educated on what can happen and how to deal with it.

That if they do adopt, they will be financially responsible for the child until he or she is of age, whether or not they end up having to institutionalize or re-adopt them out.

That if a person is deemed capable of dealing with the likely struggles of an older child there should be no other (biological or adopted) children residing in the home until it has been established that the adoptee is not suffering from any conditions that affect his or her ability to learn and function safely in society.

There should be no profiting financially from adoption. This in itself would go a very long way in eliminating corruption and serve to protect children from being stolen, bought, and or placed in inappropriate or dangerous homes.

Nobody held a gun to this woman's head to adopt. She's just as responsible as everyone else who failed this child and how she chose to handle it is criminal. If anyone put a biological child on a plane to nowhere with only having arranged to have a stranger meet him and deliver him to a government agency unexpected, there wouldn't be any question.

I find it hard to believe that a person wouldn't realize that a child of 7 who'd been living in an institution would very likely have some behavioral/developmental issues. I think that prospective adoptive parents do know that this is likely but choose to either ignore the facts or to believe that it will be different for them.

Sip of the iceberg

I had a couple of conversations with my mom about adoption which were provoked by the societies I've discovered online. The society of very much anti adoption members, mainly biological mothers and female adoptees, some of whom are very angry. The society of adoptive parents who's hearts seem to be in the right place trying to learn from these people. The society of potential adoptive parents who use religion in a bizarre way to rationalize their infertility and resulting desire to adopt.

The first conversation started out with me acknowledging that my mom must have done something right to have ended up with two daughters that have very different personalities that are both okay with having been adopted, something I've been wanting to tell her for a few weeks now. I confess this first conversation was fueled by a very large glass of white wine. It's not that it wouldn't have happened without the wine as I've always felt comfortable talking about being adopted it's just that I'm not as familiar with telling my mom she's done something right. For the past few years I've just tried to keep it simple and "not go there" with her as our points of view on life can be quite different and there does come a point where one has to resign themselves that most dogs can get too old to teach new tricks to. Oh I know, I'll be there myself some day but my plan is to fight it tooth n nail.

Some of the first conversation's details are fuzzy, like just exactly how we got to the place where she'd write something on adoption for me to post on my blog. Yesterday's conversation was alcohol free and she insists she's still determined to supply me with her thoughts. Since I want anything she writes to be free of my words her contribution may never happen as she sometimes has trouble completing tasks on her own (without mine or someone else's help) for others but she's surprised me before. If she does surprise me with something, I'll be prepared to cringe and blush, but then who knows, maybe I'll be forced again to admit my mom did something right.

A few of the tidbits from our conversation yesterday are the fact I wasn't kept in foster care at all, something I've wanted to ask since reading that some have been and were unaware. I was kept in the hospital for the month or so prior to joining my family at home. That they paid $25, the cost of the paper work. That it was a year until the adoption was completely finalized, that until then my biological mother could have changed her mind. That in a way, she did pick me (this tidbit was offered up when I was discussing how as an adult I know that it's not the case but as a child it helped me) that, in her words, "well, in a way we did pick you because after seeing you we could have said no". Me, "mom, you know that isn't the same thing". Sigh.

We discussed how she wouldn't have adopted us if she'd been able to have her own children. This one was hard to get her to admit to but she got there. I truly think her hesitance is because she doesn't want to hurt my feelings, which is nice. I talked to her about the responsibility we have as adoption affected people to talk about the "dark side" of adoption, that not all families end up like ours. That there are people out there making bigs bucks off other people's misery, that children are being adopted by abusive people and there are parents losing their babies that don't have to. Finally, we talked about the fact that I can't find my voice very often (ever?) online. That the people like me aren't here or aren't talking. I know some of you will say they don't exist but that's not true. Because I exist. My sister exists. My son exists.