Adoption proves that sometimes, you can choose your family; all about the process before, during and after adoption.
Me, Myself, and I
It was November 16th 1976 in Barron, Wisconsin. She walked into the hospital and gave birth, then left without her baby. Without a word, without a care, knowing the secret would be revealed someday.
They wouldn't tell me who you are, who you were. "I love that lady." Do you remember that day at Chuckee Cheese? I was terrified of the ball pit. My overactive imagination thought the multi-colored plastic balls were swallowing the other children. I didn't understand that there was a net at the bottom. Catching them. Keeping them safe. I was sure that it was endless and that if I went in I would never came out. You held me near the entrance, you explained to me how it worked. We would take individual balls out so I could hold them. So I could feel their weight. You helped me understand. You patiently taught me until I was no longer afraid.
Meet Me in Guangzhou
My husband and I boarded the 15-hour flight to Guangzhou, China. We had spent the last fourteen months completing all the necessary paperwork, preparing our home, and packing and re-packing our suitcases. Finally, the time had come to meet our ten-month-old daughter for the first time.
Kathleen - Jeanne
Dear Jeanne, It's Mommy here and I'd like you to know about myself and your family, what influenced my choice, and ultimately why I chose that route to take. Here goes nothing...
People think adoption and assume that every part of that word means you went through something horrific and maybe you aren’t as normal as the rest.
Six Lovelies and How They Grew
My husband and I have six children, five of whom are adopted. Our three eldest, adopted children all have a variety of diagnosed irregularities, including: attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), oppositional defiance disorder, prenatal exposure to alcohol and/or drugs or both, resulting in fetal alcohol spectrum disorder (FASD), or learning disabilities, complex behaviors and attachment disorders—in no particular order. We have dealt with many challenges over the years!
Who Am I?
Ever sit and question who you are? Where you came from? Those are questions I asked myself everyday for 30 years. Growing up, I always knew I was different. I didn't belong to the family which I grew up with. Something wasn't right and I needed to know.
Chosen. That word perfectly describes me and my brother. As kids, we were chosen. But it didn't start out that way. We were born almost four years apart. We have the same mother but different fathers. From the time he was a teenager, my biological father was in and out of jail or prison. The story is that he loved me very much. But he loved drugs more. So it was no surprise that after I was born he couldn't stay out of trouble. I saw him off and on between incarcerations. He'd come by to tell me he loved me and bring me my favorite candy bar: a Butterfinger. I never visited him in jail. We wrote letters back and forth. I definitely received more letters than face-to-face visits. Letters and Butterfingers. Those are what I remember of him. I don't remember what he looks like, how he sounds, or any distinguishable thing about him. If I saw him in public, I probably would walk by without noticing.
The People Who Changed My Life, I Call Them Mom and Dad
Adoption is special. Adoption helps kids have a chance in the world to be loved and to be happy. If I wasn't adopted who knows where I would be. Definitely not here talking to all of you wonderful people about my adoption story. Let me begin...
Family by Choice
I was just a baby when an amazing family chose to take me in as their own and make me a part of their family. As a kid I wouldn’t appreciate what they did for me, I couldn’t because I didn’t understand it yet. Growing up adopted I always felt like something was missing, a piece of me. I longed to know who my “real” parents were. My mom and dad always just told me that my mommy couldn’t take care of me and gave me to them so I could have the best life. As I got older I also grew more curious as to why my mom didn’t want me.
Happy 24th Birthday, Mom
Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy birthday dear mom, Happy Birthday to you. Usually we sing this beloved song to someone celebrating a birthday and while my birthday is coming up on November 30th, I'll be singing that song to somebody else... my birthmom.
Take a deep breath, close your eyes and think back to when you were ten months old. Do you remember anything? If you say yes, you’re lying. Few adults can remember anything that happened to them before the age of three. A new study has documented that it's about age seven when our earliest memories begin to fade, a phenomenon known as “childhood amnesia.” Sounds like a stupid question, right? Yeah, well you’d be surprised. 99 percent of the time I tell someone I adopted, I immediately regret it. I was born in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia and was adopted when I was ten months old. So, please don’t ask me if I speak Amharic or if I remember what Ethiopian food tastes like.