Childhood Adoption Narratives—NaBloPoMo

 

 Day 7—Lost Daughters Blog Prompt:

Describe the story your adoptive parents told you growing up. What age were you?  What feelings and questions did you have about this “adoption narrative”? Was it a satisfying explanation for you?

As an adult, whether or not you are in reunion, comment on how much of that story turned out to be true. Has your adoption narrative changed? What story, if any, do you share with friends, acquaintances?

 

The “Perfect Child Mentality”

Here’s my childhood adoption narrative:

I always knew I was adopted. Even before I was old enough to understand completely, my parents gave me the ostensibly straightforward explanation:

Your birth mother loved you enough to give you up. And now we love you.

The act of telling made Mom and Dad proud, but also a little sad. They knew they were progressive for divulging the truth when many adoptive parents left their kids in the dark. But as much as they loved me, they had wanted their “own” children. They chose their words carefully, but I knew the subtext nonetheless.

Your birth mother loved you enough to give you up.

She could have taken the easy way out, and I wouldn’t even be here. I should be grateful. But why did she give me up? I hadn’t even misbehaved.

And now we love you.

It’s definitely better to have someone love you, even if it is two strangers. I hadn’t been wanted, but now I was wanted. The Dennises were my second chance, chosen especially for me. My new mommy and daddy were college educated and owned a house. They even had dogs! I would have a better life, the opportunity to go to a good college.

My child’s mind deduced that the Dennises could also give me away. So I decided to be the Best Child Ever.

(Excerpted from Adopted Reality)

 

How I view my narrative today

I love my family, but adoption, especially closed adoption, is not only positive. A couple receives a baby, but someone loses her. The baby joins a family, but loses her birth mother, for a very long time, if not forever.

The general thinking back-in-the-day was that once the infant was placed with the loving, adoptive family, the child would grow up normally. No questions asked. Any so-called losses were not considered to be a factor in the child’s development. Accordingly, it was assumed that the birth mother “forgot” her baby and moved on with her life.

We’re beginning to learn tht the losses on the part of the infant and the birth mother are not forgotten. The connection remains.

I’m not saying I have all the answers. Would an “open adoption” have helped? I don’t know. I do know that an open adoption would not have been okay with certain members of my birth family! (Talk about defeating the purpose … )

I think it would have helped to have had other adoptees to talk to; in a relaxed, group counseling environment. I would have learned that the feelings I had were within the range of normal.

After thirty or so years, I’m now pretty public about my adoption. Hell, I published a book about it. I’m sure this rankles some feathers, although honestly, no one has told me so directly. I’m over the secrecy, which was another widely accepted adoption convention growing up.

Writing the memoir was my attempt to tell my story, and to reclaim my childhood adoption narrative.

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Family icon image from freedigitalphotos.net