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Thursday, June 6, 2013

“I Felt Like I’d Been Kidnapped”

153 - Wet City Night
Trevor gingerpig2000
My adopted daughter and I sat beside each other in the car, talking in quiet voices as I drove us through the dark on the way to register her for a soccer program. On this occasion, our conversation turned to being adopted. This is not something we talk about often, but it is something that connects us.

Our stories differ. I was adopted as an infant, without so much as even having been held in the arms of my original mother. My daughter spent her early years with her first mother before coming into state care at age five, when the family came into crisis as a result of a domestic violence incident against her mother, addiction in the family, and other factors. And yet there are things we understand about each other, adoptee to adoptee.

On this night we talked about her time in foster care … how her foster parents and others hadn’t seemed to understand what things were like for her, why she behaved as she did, and how confusing and disorienting that period of her life had been.