An insight into my adoption and meeting my birth mother for the first time!
The coolest fact about me is that I am adopted. For some reason people think that’s really rare and interesting. I guess I don’t see it as interesting because it was a normal thing for me. I always knew that another woman gave birth to me and gave me and my sister up so we could have better lives. It is something that I am very thankful for because my life growing up was amazing. I had two parents who loved me even though I wasn’t their’s biologically. They gave my sister and I the best life possible! Fun fact: my sister and I are actual blood sisters, adopted from the same family, but at different times! Kind of cool, right?
Let me give you a little information about my adoption. I had somewhat of a difficult adoption I guess. My parents were chosen by my birth mom well before I was born. Everything was set into place with my adoption, she gave birth, and then changed her mind and decided to keep me. For six weeks my parents had no idea if they were even going to be parents at all. Hearing that story just broke my heart. I understand both sides of it though. I understand how hard it is to give up your child that you literally just gave birth too, and I also understand how sickening it is to have the child you were going to adopt taken away from you at the last minute.
After six weeks of agonizing mental pain for my real parents, my birth mom finally made the right decision and let my parents adopt me. I am happy that she made this decision and gave me a good life. Honestly, who knows how my life would be if she decided to keep me.
What I was told growing up was that basically my birth mother was a teenager who wasn’t ready to have a child and she made the decision to put us up for adoption. For many years I hated her. I hated her because she “gave us up and didn’t want us.” I guess I never really understood the sacrifice. It just kind of felt like abandonment. She requested an open adoption and it was granted to her but after a few years she stopped coming around. Which is okay. I wasn’t losing sleep over it.
Now, just because I wasn’t losing sleep about her not coming around doesn’t mean that I wasn’t curious about who she was. My curiosity led me to find her on Facebook and look at her profile a lot. I would ask my parents questions about her and what she was like. That’s when I figured out that my given name was Raven. Yep, Raven. It took me many profile views, many questions and answers, and many months to finally send her a friend request.
She was the one who sent the initial message saying that she would love to meet if I was ready. I thought about it and decided to go ahead and meet her! Why not, right? I mean, she did give birth to me and I WAS curious about who she was. All I had ever known was her and my birth fathers name (oh my god, Phil) and kind of thought it was time to learn more about her.
Three years ago I finally met my birth mom. It was scary and nerve racking and I didn’t know what to expect. Would we look alike? Would we act the same?How did I know if she just wanted to meet me so she could ask for money or something? All I saw was her Facebook profile picture so I had no idea how I was even going to recognize her. Maybe she would recognize me? All these questions floated around in my head on the drive up to Madison and while I was sitting at the Ian’s Pizza on State Street waiting for her to show up. I can’t even put into words how scared I actually was.
I sat there waiting and waiting, thinking that maybe I should just get up and leave and forget I even wanted to meet her. Maybe not knowing who she was is what’s best for everyone. I decided to stick it out and waited for her to show up. I sat at the high top table by the cashier looking out the window, when all of a sudden there she was. I felt uneasy but happy finally getting to meet her.
Years have gone by since that moment and I still maintain a friendship with her. It has been cool getting to know her and getting to know where I came from, even if it’s a little much sometimes. Alright most of the time it crosses the line, but oh well. I feel like I have learned so much more about me just be knowing her and seeing our very few similarities.
It is nice knowing her but with that being said it makes me appreciate MY MOM AND DAD so much more. My birth mom is my friend and nothing more and a lot of people get confused by that but the mom that adopted me is my real and only mother. I love her and love the life she provided for me. She took me in when I was a baby and loved me unconditionally even thought I am not her own flesh and blood.
What an amazing opportunity I was given at such a young age! The opportunity to be loved and cared for and given everything that I have ever wanted. Now before I sound too cocky, I do want to say that I know there are people who aren’t as fortunate as me. How many adopted people do you know who have a relationship with their birth mom? Not many. I’m happy with the way my life turned out! I really have no idea where/who I would be if I wasn’t adopted and I am okay with not knowing that. My life is perfect the way that it is and I wouldn’t change it for the world!