Here is a short story I wrote. Hope you enjoy it. Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms and their families today.
I have always known I was adopted. I never remember a time when I didnt know. Growing up, teachers and other grown ups would tell me, It makes you special because your parents really wanted you. I think I really believed them because I never felt any differently. In times of stress my mother would always comfort me by saying, dont worry old bean, things are going to be just fine. One thing my parents have taught me is that genetics does not define a family and they always treated me as if I was with them from day one. However, there were the occasional moments when I would wonder about my story and how I came to be. Why was I given up? Where was my birth mother now and did she ever think of me? Was I not good enough? I distinctly remember the day I turned 16 during a school ski trip and thought if my birth mother knew it was my birthday and that I would soon be able to drive. I wondered what she might look like and if I bore any resemblance. Although my adoption was never a taboo topic, it wasnt a topic that was discussed a great deal.
That changed a couple months after I turned 18. My birth mother contacted my parents after she found me through an investigative agency. Throughout the years, my father would send an occasional note to say how I was and what I was doing. I chose not to directly contact myself mainly out of my allegiance to my parents. There was an openness to contact her if I chose. That itself relieved a lot of questions I had. I knew she was too young to keep me and soon after I was born she got married and had two children of her own.
When I was 25, I received a phone call that forever changed my adoptive story. I picked up the phone and a woman said, I know you dont know me, but please dont hang up. I am your biological sister! We spoke for almost an hour and quickly learned we had a great deal in common, including our birthdays! We became fast friends and met soon after. I met her mom a few months later and got to know more of my story. Although I was grateful for finding out the answers to questions I always had, I had a strong feeling of guilt, as if I was somehow cheating on my parents for spending time with and speaking with my birth mother. I was curious about my story, but didnt want feelings hurt at the same time. My biological sister and I kept in contact and she even stood with me on my wedding day as a bridesmaid.
During the birth of my son over 2 years ago, I wanted my parents to be in the delivery room. I wanted to give them the opportunity to share my birth as it was something they werent able to go through themselves. I wanted to hear again dont worry old bean, things will work out just fine. After my son was born, he immediately was able to meet his grandparents and the source of many of my strengths that have helped me become who I am today. My Mom and Dad.