adoption

Adoption proves that sometimes, you can choose your family; all about the process before, during and after adoption.

The Weaved Path
The entire property was surrounded by 8-foot massive walls that would appear like Grand Canyon walls to a 5-year-old. Ira never liked them.
By Suga Peru5 years ago in Families
A Mother's Flight
Athena was no stranger to loss. As the mirror of her husband’s eyes closed on her for the final time, she cursed the obtusity of the human race. Rat poison! Her white, heart shaped face betrayed the red rage of her anger, and her feathers ruffled and shivered at the memory of his last desperate breath. With Merlin gone, and her clutch having flown the nest, Athena found herself alone.
By Laura Brown 5 years ago in Families
Night Soul
I am only six years old and I do not know where I am. I am small and afraid and I do not like the smell of this pillow or how hard the bed is. I liked the smell of my old pillow and the softness of my other mattress. I do not know the lady or the man who have big, smiley teeth. The lady smells like lavender. I do like that smell because it reminds me of the purple tree flowers that my Nana had in her yard. My mummy used to lift me up and put my face right into the pretty flowers and they smelled delicious. I do not know where my mummy has gone. She told me all the time that I was her sunshine, her only sunshine and that she loved me to the moon and back. She would tell me that she would never give up and she is not far away. I do not know what that means. I know she is not here. The lady and the man say I can call them mummy and daddy, but they are not my mummy and daddy. My mummy has long hair and dark eyes that crinkle when she laughs. My mummy sings songs to me and her favorite one is about me being her sunshine. I do not really know who my daddy is, but I know he is not the man with the grizzly beard and the big voice. I look out the window and it is dark and scary because my teddy bear is not here. He is gone too. Maybe he is with mummy. I hear funny sounds out my window. The new mummy comes in and helps me to lie down on the new pillow. She tucks the soft blanket up under my chin. She smiles with her big teeth and she tells me she will keep me safe. I like the sound of her soft voice. I like that she will keep me safe.
By Joyce Hamelin5 years ago in Families
Unbreakable Siblings
Having been born into an extremely poor family, let alone in a third world country, my brother and I were then forced to face the rest of life as adoptee's. The two of us were adopted into separate families and in completely opposite locations; I grew up in the United States and my brother, in the Bahamas.
By Carrie Maria5 years ago in Families
100% Adopted
For most things, I can’t remember what happened yesterday. As for the day I met my mother, that is a memory I will be able to re-play in my mind as if it were yesterday.
By Felicia P.5 years ago in Families
Adopted & Reunited (Part 2)
Many years ago I had it in my mind to attempt to find my biological family. To learn about my roots, where I came from. Keep in mind how much more primitive the internet was around 20 years ago than it is now, which made things feel like searching for a needle in the proverbially haystack.
By Steve Horgan5 years ago in Families
Adopted & Reunited
Call me Steve Snow. Being adopted at birth, I grew up never knowing my biological family. My name consisted of a first and middle name followed by a number to obscure my identity as part of the process to effectively make me nameless and impossible to trace due to laws of redaction of birth records at the time, if you could find any meaningful leads at all.
By Steve Horgan5 years ago in Families
WTF do you mean “I wasn’t wanted”
”How does it feel to know that you weren’t wanted?” I will never forget that question I was asked. I was 12 years old and started middle school at “THE” best private school in Orlando. (Hindsight is definitely 2020). Everyone already knew each other because they had been together since Kindergarten and lived a few miles apart from each other and that was only because their family homes were that big. Already nervous to find my place and try to make friends I walked into my first Bible class ever after my very lonely lunch. As I take my seat and everyone settles in the teacher opens up and asks “Is anyone hear Adopted”. Well shit I raised my hand so high and proud. I thought this was my moment, this was my moment to connect. Well I looked around and realized I was the only raising my hand. He proceeded to ask me my name and then he asked me that question that changed my opinion of myself for the rest of my life. “How did it make you feel to know that you weren’t wanted?” WTF do you mean I wasn’t wanted?? Who didn’t want me? Why didn’t they want me? You mean someone didn’t love me and got rid of me? Was I not good enough? Did I cry too much? Was I an ugly baby? What the hell do you mean someone didn’t want me?? All the thoughts that ran through my head as I stood up and ran out of classroom crying. I called my mom and said I wasn’t wanted? That’s what adoption really means? I remember it like yesterday as my mom pulled into the drop off area and ran to me as she saw her baby girl crying and heartbroken. That day forever changed my life and how I perceived myself. I had so many questions. I was so confused. From day one my parents always told my brother and I that we were adopted. Every night I laid my head down to go to bed underneath a picture that read “You are special because you were chosen”. How could I be special when this man who taught about Christ and Bible tell me I wasn’t wanted. That day is the day that I unfortunately let define me and little did I know that little moment would have brought me to where I am today.
By Jenny Davis 5 years ago in Families
How I'm Dealing with Raising a Child that is not mine.
I didn't ever want her to get an abortion, I don't think any woman could live with out it haunting them down the line. Even if they say it won't effect them, it will, in some way. Though usually woman hate admitting that they are wrong to anyone, but if they eventually do admit it, I suppose a therapist could help them cope (with the haunting of an abortion more than helping the deal with their pride, working on pride is good too though).
By Emilio (Sleepy) Salinas5 years ago in Families
Unwanted
My life has literally been a shit show from the moment of conception. Of course the show didn't open the curtains until I was about 10 years old. Up to that point I thrived in a broken middle class family. Groomed to be an athlete and scholar. But the blood running through my veins was not the blood of the family I lived amongst. The word adopted was one I didn't even question. I was adopted. I can't even remember a time when they sat me down and explained that to me. I just always knew it. And by the time I was 10 years old, I was acting like it. I was the child that went through the rooms at family get togethers, Thanksgiving and Christmas, going through the pockets and pocketbooks of the ones downstairs. Looking for money that I just knew they wouldn't miss. I would my aunt and uncles house looking for their honey holes of new bills and old coins. Looking back, they must have known, yet no one ever came to accuse me of stealing their money.
By Jodi Tipton5 years ago in Families
Years of memories
I don’t know where to begin. There are so many years of memories between us. You were there from the time I was 4-18. You were going there for me when everyone else threw me out. You raised and loved me even though you didn’t have the youth in you to rise a 4 year old. I remember when I first came to live with you I was just a scared 4 year old that was broken. I had watched the murder of my grandparents about 6 months before you got me. I had been bounced between foster homes then you came along and adopted me. I remember the ride to the airport I was sad and scared. You were a stranger and for I knew you were kidnapping me from the only home I had known. We walked hand in hand through the airport in silence. Once we were checked in we walked together somemore in silence to the gate. We had sometime to kill so you brought out some cards and we played go fish. We talked a little but it was mainly silence between us. Then it was time to board the plane to go to my new home in California. I started crying on the way to plane knowing that I was the last time I would see my old hometown. Once we got in our seats you helped me buckle up and get comfy. I remember playing more card games and looking out the window until we landed. We got off the plane and walked to the baggage claim I had never seen so many suitcases before I was amazed. After we got out luggage we went to the car and drove home in silence. As the days turned to weeks then months then years we created some amazing memories and had so many laughs. I remember the long cold winters nights sitting on your lap wrapped in a blanket watching little house on the prairie. That was your favorite show in the whole world. I sat through it even though I thought it was dumb I did it for you because I knew it made you happy. In the summer we would always take a trip for a week to our favorite lake called Blue Lake. Oh we had so much fun with all our family. I remember the late nights with all the cousins sitting around the campfire telling stories and eating s’mores. I still remember to this day you asking me why they called them s’mores. The answer you gave me was because you always want s’more. I loved when it was summer time. Summer time was my favorite season. We would stay up late and watch the sunset on the back deck while watching the deer graze so peacefully in the meadow behind us. Or how you use to take me to the community pool and watch me swim for hours on end with my friends. My favorite holiday was Christmas, all the amazing times we would cuddled up on the chair drinking hot chocolate and eating Christmas cookies while watching Christmas movies. I still remember your gentle soul comforting me when I would have to go to the hospital because I had pneumonia. You always stayed by me and made sure I was ok. You never left me.
By Tiya Ford5 years ago in Families
The Most Hated Woman in America
The American Dream A picture-perfect American family. Standing against a white wall, beaming. A smiling father and a pert blonde mother holding a baby. Then the children, in descending order. One, two, three. Four including the baby. They seem so happy — full of so much joy that it’s overflowing. This family has so much love to give.
By HK Sloan5 years ago in Families