Featured Post

Adoption and Child Separation at the Border

On June 1, 2018 Rebekah Henson published an important thread on Twitter critiquing the hashtags #FamiliesBelongTogether and #Ke...

Friday, April 11, 2014

Promises Promises

I am glad that I had the mom growing up that I had.  She was amazing and one of the best moms I could have hoped for.  She did all these amazing mom things, supported me no matter what (even in reunion), and was my best friend.  She wasn't perfect, but she's was pretty spectacular.  It's something I'll always be thankful for because I want to be thankful for if (there's a difference between choosing to be thankful and being told to be thankful in case you were wondering).

That being said, I don't consider these past three years to be something that was "better" than what I was supposed to get as an adoptee.  I was supposed to get a new family, better than the one I was born to, that would raise me as if I was their own child and I'd thus go off to a more fabulous life with a pool and a pony.  We never had a pool (my dad didn't want the extra company it would entail) but we did have a summer home.  I'm petrified of horses so I was content with a family dog.  I received a great education in a town my parents admitted years later looks wonderful on paper but probably wasn't the best choice for our family.  In that sense, my adoption was successful.  I couldn't afford designer jeans, but I wouldn't call us hard pressed because my dad worked at least 60 hours a week.  It's a system of checks and balances my friends.  I grew up the way I was "supposed" to thanks to adoption to a certain extent.