It has been a long road since the day we walked into an information session on adopting internationally. For those of you who have adopted, you have a full understanding of all that goes into this process as well as the amount of faith and patience that is needed. Though some days it feels like we have made it so far, there are three times as many more days that feel as though we have barely begun.
I don’t know by now whom we have shared with and whom we haven’t, but if you didn’t know, the huzband and I are in the process of adopting our second child from Colombia, South America. We officially submitted our dossier ( a collaboration of information about us) to Colombia towards the end of last year.
As frustrating and time-consuming all the paperwork is, just waiting with no word is even more so. However, last week we heard from Colombia for the first time. They are requesting a dossier magnification. Pretty much, our social worker Pat, who wrote up our home study, needs to expand on some areas they are asking for further explanation. All their questions have to do with me, more specifically my adoption history. Though it will be Pat who writes the response to their questions, I can’t help but think about my own words to their inquiries. What better place to share my own words than on my little ol’blog.
. what is known of the history of Mrs G before the adoption (I am refered to me by my maiden name)
My family adopted me when I was about 3 to 4 months old. It never really occurred to me till the past few years, that for the first few months of my life, I know absolutely nothing. With my little V, though she will not remember her life from when she was a baby, she will always know that she was in my arms since her first day of life. I don’t know that. I don’t know if my birth mother held me, touched me and kissed me. I don’t know if she spent her days in the hospital with me or if we were separated from birth. Really, not much is known about those beginning months of my life.
What I do know I know from my mom. I know that when they received me, I came from a foster home. There was a note attached to me stating how I was a sweet, happy baby. My mom says from the way the note sounded, it gave her the impression that perhaps it was an older woman who was taking care of me. That is my history. That is all I know about the beginning of my life.
. how Mrs G has elaborated her own abandonment history
Let me elaborate more on what they are asking before I answer this question. There is this side of adoption that addresses the child that is adopted. Though it is beautiful, there is also pain. There is this thing each adopted child, whether 10 years old or 2 months old, because of the separation from their birth mother, face abandonment issues. There can be feelings of being unwanted, deserted and left alone. There are few things that match the utter destruction of not being wanted. I believe this can be true in one’s life and is important for one to recognize and deal with.
I also believe each adopted child is different. Their experiences, their history, their faith, their family, their upbringing all play into their heart and who they are becoming. I can only speak to my personal story. Though I was “parentless” at the beginning of my life, and yes, that makes me sad, I have never felt abandoned. All I have felt is loved, important, wanted, desired, blessed, supported, beautiful and believed in. Since beginning this adoption journey, I have searched my heart over and over for I didn’t want something unresolved lingering. I can only guess as to why I have never felt abandoned.
1 – My parents. One of my most favorite bedtime stories as a child was my adoption story. I would ask my mom to tell it to me over and over and the way she told it left me feeling like I was the only daughter meant for them! She kissed me good night with overwhelming love, leaving no room for doubt or uncertainties.
2 – I am grateful for the choice my birth mother made. I don’t know what her circumstances were. I have thought many a time throughout my life what her reasoning was for this choice. She could have been 15, raped, married, cheated, in college, working on her career, had 8 kids already. I don’t know. It could have been a choice forced upon her by her parents or my birth father, or a decision she made on her own. I don’t know. What I do know, is in a time where adoption was not as open and widely discussed, she made a very hard sacrifice.
I could have a very different life today had she chosen to raise me. I very well could not have had a life at all. When I think upon my ‘abandonment history’, gratitude fills my heart. Gratitude for a woman who walked a very hard road.
** I will finish answering one or two more of Colombia’s questions in my next post. **