Life As An Adult Adoptee: Who Am I Really?

Adoption as a whole, is a selfless, caring act of love on both sides of the parental coin. Surrendering your own baby to parents who can offer him or her a better quality of life is a gesture of pure love. Taking a child into ones life as their own is also a very compassionate deed. But, there are common struggles and questions that the adoptee experiences throughout life, no matter how well or poorly they are raised. It is tough for the birth parent(s) to deal with the loss due to constant wonder and worry if their child is ok, among other on-going speculations. And, the adoptive parents have the task of trying to help the child understand and overcome issues that often arise throughout life as an adoptee. The first question an adoptive parent must ponder is whether or not, or even when and how to tell their child about being adopted. The childs' questioning usually begins with, "Why did my mom give me up?" "Did they not want me?" And some, as the adoptee grows older wonder, "What is my blood nationality?" "Does cancer run in my family?" These are on-going questions that in my opinion, should be given as a birth rite.

S ome adoptees never question their adoptive parents about their birth parents. That is just their own personality.

My brother is one of them. He simply had no curiosity about his birth parents or why he was given up for adoption. He did show a smidge of interest for about 5 minutes one day. It was after our mom passed away and we found some papers about his adoption in my mom's bank vault. He read a physical description of them, their names, and a few medical history tidbits. I, on the other hand, am a typical Aries sun with impatience and endless curiosity about everything.

Should I or Shouldn't I?

I've been thinking a lot more about my birth family since I recently had my own child. I have always wondered about them throughout my life so far. But, ever since having my daughter, the urge grows stronger. I sometimes wonder if I should just find them already. I've gone back and forth since I was a teenager about this. In fact, I think some of my closest friends want me to find my birth family more than I do! I do know a lot of information as you will see how and why in the next section. For some reason, if I am in one of my on-again off-again, "Pro-Finding the Birth Family" phases (which happens a few times a year) I search and search. However, if and when I get close to success, I back off and quit. Yes, fear of rejection is part of it but in all honesty, I am not sure what kind of people they are. I can't rely on stories I have been told by my adoptive family because no offense to them, but I question their facts about it. I have always been told my birth mother was a bit rebellious because when it came time for her to sign the official papers in court 6 months after I was born, she was a no-show. The attorney went driving around near her house only to find her riding around on a motorcycle with a man. Big deal, even if it is true. I don't think I would be too gung-ho about signing away my baby that I was forced to give up, either. I think she was thinking, "You come to me. Why should I go to you?" But, I digress. I don't know if I am keen on the idea contact her (or them) to see if they would like to meet me. I wouldn't show up on her doorstep, of course. I would send a letter or have someone contact her on my behalf first. But I often wonder if I would be intruding on her life. She may even be deceased. Then, there is the other side of it. What if she lives a life of chaos? Do I want to get involved in that? I have enough chaos in my own life. Sounds selfish, huh? Maybe it is.

I remember when being adopted first came to light as a child. I think I was in the 3rd grade when we were asked to interview our parents from the questionnaire we were given. Some of the questions were regarding how long Mom was in labor, what she remembers most from pregnancy, and other related questions. Obviously, I couldn't answer them and had to explain to my teacher why I didn't fill out most of it. That wouldn't have been so bad if I didn't have to explain in front of the whole class. The teacher went up and down the rows of desks and asked each student to read their answers. I wasn't ashamed or embarrassed about being adopted, it was just a bit uncomfortable because many kids didn't understand. Then came the "Did you grow up in an orphanage like Annie?" and "How come your mom gave you away?" questions. Ugh.
Mom mentioned this at her next parent-teacher conference. She didn't scold the teacher but asked her if she could be a bit more aware and sensitive to such subjects, as not every child has the same circumstances. Some children don't have mothers or fathers around to ask such things due to death or divorce, too. But, I think times have changed a bit and hopefully, such instances don't occur as often.

We are all different somehow.



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There is an angel out there.

I did something illegal when I was 18 years old. In a nutshell, I scammed the hospital using my birth name and my birth mothers' name in a letter requesting a copy of my birth info. See, my dad told me my birth mother named me Samantha Michele (I won't give out the last name here.) And I always found that quite odd since it was/is very uncommon for babies to be given a birth certificate and a name, no less, when knowing they were to be given up for adoption. My adoption decree (which my mom showed me when I was about 18 years old) stated that the reason for my adoption was due to my birth father (her husband) leaving her when she was 6 months pregnant with me and she already had 3 kids. The courts felt she would be unfit to care for another baby. The birth father had no option of contesting. So, I wrote the hospital a letter stating that I needed a copy of my birth certificate and any medical records from my birth. I signed it Samantha M. and the last name. I received a letter a week later stating that they did not have any record of me and if I was sure that was the hospital I was born at. I left it at that thinking at least I gave it a shot.
Unexpectedly, about 4 weeks later, I received a very thick envelope with no return address. It had everything from my original birth certificate to my birth records from the time my birth mom was admitted until the day my adopted parents picked me up to take me home. This was an angel that sent this to me. This person must have figured out what I was doing and risked their job and possible criminal charges by sending this information. I wish I could thank this person.

Stop by this great group to read many more personal stories! You can submit yours, too and maybe earn your badge!

M y personal fear of abandonment and trust issues have a bit to do with being adopted, in my opinion. There are many things that stick in one's subconscious that one may not actually remember the incident. I believe upon my birth, I began bonding with my birth mother only to have her disappear 6 days later and a stranger then took me home. My adoptive mom said that I was a bit reserved from them, much more than a newborn normally is, and it took them a few weeks to get me to feel comfortable and bond with them. That is not surprising. It did not happen with my brother and we believe he did not have contact with his birth mom after she gave birth to him. He was probably craving stability and love so it was easier for my parents to bond with him. I recognized this only after I became an adult and did some research about adopted people and the psychological aspects involved. Not all facets can be pointed to the adoption factor, as much is learned behavior and due to environment and life experiences. However, much of it is a foundation built upon the adoption issue and much also depends on the individuals' personality.

As a child, I imagined my parents going to something that resembled a produce section at the market. They looked at all the babies and picked me; 3rd row from the top on the left. Mom was an avid coupon clipper so I figured she probably had a coupon. They paid for me at the register and took me home. I also imagined I was an egg left in a basket at their doorstep or the stork delivered me. Either way, I was meant to be theirs. They always told me I was special because I was chosen. I believed them.
I still do.



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S ince I am now a mother myself, I have been having stronger feelings regarding the unconditional love a mother has for her child. I can't imagine what my birth mother must have gone through having to give me up without any control of it from her end. She fought it, I know that in my heart. Something was intriguing to me that I read from the paperwork I received off of the nurses notes. It stated, "gave to mother for feeding" more than once a day for 6 days. The 6th day, she was released. I was renamed as "a boarder" until my adopted parents picked me up on the 7th day. My adoptive parents said they never visited the hospital before they picked me up, as they were not allowed to by law. So, it wasn't my adoptive mom that fed me in the hospital. Even back then, I didn't think the mother was allowed to have contact with the baby if she was giving him or her up for adoption. Apparently, that was not the case unless she had a friend among the nurses. But, why would they document her contact with me in the chart? More things to make me wonder and wonder and wonder!

Since I became a mother, I now understand the unconditional love a mother feels for her child. I can't fathom my birth mother not having any feelings for me.

I kept noticing a large bruise on my daughters' back. The first time I saw it, after I had a minor heart attack, I figured she must have fallen in her crib because I'm with her 24/7 when she's awake and never saw her fall. It seemed to get better until it reappeared a couple weeks later. At that point, I was freaking out. I thought, "Is it a bad kidney? Does she have something wrong internally?" Off to the doctor we went. As he was examining Mariah, he asked me what my family heritage was. I thought, "Hmm, this is an odd time to make small talk, but I'll bite." I told him my birth father was full Native American and my birth mother was part Native American, Irish and English. Before I could finish with my b-mothers' info, he was already nodding his head and smirking. He said, "This is not a bruise. It's a Mongolian Spot."
"What the hell is that?" I replied. He explained that it is a pigmentation of the skin that often resembles a bruise. It's a type of birthmark that is seen in 90% of Native Americans. I probably didn't see it all the time due to whatever lighting in the room or tanning skin from the sun. It may or may not fade as she gets older but I don't care. As long as she was ok.
This is not Mariah, but just an example of what it is. Mariah's isn't nearly as dark. photo courtesy of Photobucket: Beth_Kenneh

So, this little event struck me as interesting. It may sound strange, but in a way, it gave me more personal identity. It made me feel like I was born from real people and not just a stray egg that hatched. I came from my adoptive parents but this gifted me with the reality of my blood heritage. Though the "real people" may never have a face or physical image in my mind, it made me feel a bit more valid.

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Due to the laws when I was born, it is vastly difficult to locate birth relatives. (Legally, of course. LOL!) Currently, there are many more open adoptions but even in closed adoptions, there is much more detail as to family heritage and family medical history documented without giving away personal identity of the birth parent(s). That is how it should be.

Around 2001, I started feeling ill for no apparent reason. I saw the doctor and it was only after months of tests that they finally were able to give me a possible diagnosis. He told me that what I had was quite often hereditary and if they had my family history, the information would most likely sped up the process of a diagnosis.
Finding my birth family would answer many questions about where I came from and to whom I physically stem from. It would also provide me with a piece of my identity that I cannot discover on my own. I would also like to learn my family heritage and my specific Native American tribe besides just "Cherokee." I really do need my family medical history, too, since I have a few medical matters. I think at least that is my birth rite, and my daughter has the right to know her mothers' family medical history, too. It's not just about me anymore.

B esides the medical history, heritage and specific Native American Tribe, I have always wondered who I looked like or acted like. If you read my profile, I mentioned that I was nicknamed Spitfire at a very young age but was also the black sheep of my family. I was not rude but outspoken. I just voiced my opinions and challenged the questionable. Why Why Why Why??? Yes, that is typical for a toddler or young child, but I am still that way in my late 30's.
In a college Psychology class, I found it beyond fascinating when I learned that children adopted as early as newborns often share the same quirks, facial expressions and even physical habits as birth family members even if they have never met! (i.e. twirling hair when tired, being grossed out by long toe nails, hating the feeling of satin sheets, etc.) WOW! I cannot help but wonder.

Most importantly, I wonder if my birth mother is ok. It seemed as if she was having a rough time when pregnant with me, especially having 3 other kids. I hope she believes I don't harvest ill feelings toward her. I hope she listens to her heart as a mother and intuitively feels my love for her. I hope she made a decent life for herself and I believe she feels the same about me.

Doctors want your family medical history, with good reason. Most of the time, after I have filled out my medical form and placed an "N/A" or "N/A: Adopted" in all the family history sections, I questioned only now and then. However, when I had to see a hematologist in 2001, the receptionist just wasn't getting it! I told her I was adopted (as it was clearly written on the form.) She replied, "Well, we really do need that information to help the doctor properly diagnose your condition."
Really?? Ya think?
So, I finally responded, "Well, if you can somehow obtain that information, you're welcome to it." However, I think that just confused her more.

It is not just adoptees that are always trying to discover more about themselves and what lay ahead in their future. I am content if I never find birth family but the curiosity, unanswered questions and wonder will always remain.
I am grateful for my adoptive parents and I will always consider them my only parents. They did the best they could to raise me and gave me so much love. I know, in my heart and my personal, spiritual beliefs, that we are all meant to be born from certain people and raised by certain people. We choose our parents before each life. I chose my birth parents to give me life and a bloodline and my adoptive parents to raise me. That's ok with me. I am content. I will continue to grow and learn as we all do. I am and continue to be whomever I am, with or without the missing pieces.

I still had a decent childhood with many friends.

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