I was adopted as an infant, as was my husband. This will be a long entry, probably in a few episodes, I'm going to tell all of both of our stories, as well as the story of Mia, our daughter who is adopted.
My story first. I was placed before my birth with Mary and Gene, who are my parents They raised me, taught me the values and personal standards I have, loved me through thick and thin. I was born in 1966 to a woman named Connie who was 33 at when I was born. The circumstances of my birth are shameful. Connie was seeing a wealthy older man at the time, who was a widower and had a grown daughter. Let's call him Vinnie. Connie already had two children, aged 13 and 14. Vinnie didn't want children around. His daughter was grown, he was done with the child thing. Since Vinnie split his time between Buffalo, New York, and Michigan, Connie foresaw a problem. She wanted to be with Vinnie all the time, but how could she drag her kids around like that? Take them out of school, put them in another school for 2 months. Also on her mind was that undeniable fact that Vinnie didn't like kids much. She ended up dumping my half brother and sister with her sister, in Southgate. My sister has related to me that this was the most normal, settled time of her life as a kid.
So what did Connie do? Did she ditch the selfish guy who wouldn't acknowledge her kids? Oh no. She got pregnant. With me. Her thought was if she gave Vinnie a baby, he would change his mind. She was way off base, as Vinnie was horrified at the thought of fathering another child.
He promptly dumped her.
Enter, me. I was placed at three months with my adoptive parents, whom I always refer to as my parents; I refer to my birth mother as Connie always. I was placed in foster care for three months although my understanding is that I was matched with my parents at the time of my birth. My mom visited me at the foster care homes (I was in two different ones within three months) as much as she was allowed to. Why was I placed in foster care? Apparently, that was the norm at the time.
I had a pretty good childhood. I know my parents loved me. I always knew I was adopted and while I sometimes suffered some doubts about myself and a heightened feeling of rejection, I was never ashamed of it. I don't think these feelings are unusual in any adoption situation and I had a mother who always was willing to tell me everything she knew, which was scant, a thousand times. She was always open to my questions and reassuring. I felt it made me special to be chosen for a family.
I always had a lot of curiosity about my birth family though, and I don't regret that I set out to find what I could. I don't have big warm fuzzy feelings for Connie, but I am fond of her in a distant sort of way, I am happy that she seemed to have found some peace about the whole situation and I am very glad to have found my half-sister and half-brother, whom I consider my sister and brother.
Being adopted is just part of me.
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