Saturday, June 30, 2018

10 Lessons Being Adopted Taught Me


Adoptees On is a Podcast Hosted by Haley Radke.

1. I learned about being a minority.


Although my skin color is that of the dominant race, I learned early in life that I was part of a minority group.  I was told I was adopted at a young age, so as I grew up, I noticed that the overwhelming majority of people I knew were living in biological families.  In the 70’s,  you mainly learned about other families by spending time with them, reading about them, or seeing them on T.V.  My first realization about the differences was when I saw a neighbor breast-feeding her baby.  I think I went into shock because that was not something ever seen or talked about before in my home.

The Brady Bunch may have been a show I was attracted to because they were a non-traditional family in their time (step-family).  Although the kids were not “adopted” formally, each spouse informally adopted the other spouse’s children.  I did not feel ostrasized as a minority as a child; however, it is when I became an adult that I noticed the disparity of being adopted versus being biological.  You quickly become aware during conversations, or when you read obituaries or articles where certain members of families are singled out as “adopted” (why?) or you hear a joke being made about the “adopted kid” in the biological family (it’s not funny). “You never know what you are going to get” is a common thing I have heard about adopted kids, but the truth is, you never know what you are going to get with a biological kid either, but the point was . . . at least we know the bio kid is blood.  

Now days, these types of comments are referred to as micro-agressions. Five years ago,  I learned that my biological father was Latino and so it’s caused me to think about how I would have been treated differently had my immediate and extended family and community saw me as Latino and not White. 

2. I learned to Value Equality

I have been in favor of gay marriage as an adult for years.  I was so happy when it became the law of our land because it never made sense to me to discriminate against people based on their sexual orientation.  It goes back to #1, being a minority.  I did not grow up with any gay relatives, nor as a child, did I know any adults who were gay (“gay” was the only term in my awareness at the time).

It wasn’t until I became an adult and worked with some folks who openly spoke to me about being LGBTQ+ that I began to understand more deeply. I now seek out this information via documentaries and follow political agendas of the anti-LGBTQ+ community. 

And being part of a minority myself, I believe it gave me an inherent understanding that, in neither of our cases (being adopted or being LGBTQ+), were these life circumstances a choice that we made.  Attempting to order my original birth certificate and my adoption file from the powers that be and being denied was when it really brought the inequality home to me personally.  As an adopted person, I am treated differently under the law than a biological person.  There is something deeply wrong with that picture.  If I am to value my own equality, I have to value others’ equality. 

3. I learned reunion cannot repair ruptured connections


It is not possible to repair a ruptured connection that took place at birth or shortly after birth.  Sure, a child can connect and bond with a different caregiver. And people can have positive reunions. However, the rupture of the original bond between mother and child can never be fully repaired.  Reunion is an attempt at re-gaining what was lost.  However, it is not possible to repair something as great as years of time that was missed out on.  Children need time and they bond closest to those who spend the most time with them.  Adoption creates a family out of strangers and strangers out of family[1]  Even in an open adoption, the one-on-one bond that feeding and playing, or just living in the same house creates, cannot be duplicated or repaired during an adult reunion.  My own reunion, while positive in many senses, brought this lesson to me in a big way.  What was broken in these primal relationships many years ago will never be fully repaired. 

 4. I learned about grief.


Growing up, I learned that my family’s way of dealing with grief was to bury your head in the sand. To basically not grieve.  When my beloved cats, Snooper and Sneaker died, there was no viewing the body, no talk of what happened, no burial, vet visits or backyard funeral.  I was told in an indirect way without the benefit of hugs and crying.  Even as adults, neither my brother or I were told when our paternal grandmother died in a home.  I asked about her one day and that is when I learned.  Again, no funeral or discussion about feelings.  It wasn’t until I was in my 30s that I saw my grandma’s tombstone that I realized it was not engraved properly!  I wanted to do better with my kids.  We have had a  lot of pets and it is a family event to go to the vet when a pet is gravely ill.  We talk about it.  We cry.  We make decisions about euthanasia together.  We support each other through the grief.

Another big lesson about grief came when I had a miscarriage and entered therapy for grief.  Although my family of origin wanted to sweep it under the rug, I was forced to feel the full brunt of the reality of giving birth to a second term baby boy who was not alive.  I had an angel of an RN who helped me through the first stages of that process.   

Finally, my greatest lesson about grief was when our family adopted our daughter and I watched as her birth mother distanced herself and eventually walked away.  It threw me into a pit I had never experienced before and the grief of the loss of my own mother finally came to light.  It was excruciating to finally face the reality of my loss, after denying it for so many decades.

5. I learned to value family history


There is nothing like having zero access to your own family history to make you a huge fan of family history in general.  Family stories and ancestors have value to each and every one of us and when we don’t have access to that information, it can cause a lot of distress.  The rise of genealogy shows like “Finding Your Roots” on PBS and TLC’s “Who Do You Think You Are” is proof that almost everybody cares about where they come from, most of all those of us who don’t have the privilege of that information. In recent years, with the rise of DNA testing, I have become a huge fan of genetic genealogy and helping people in my community connect the dots.

 6. I learned identity is fluid and ever-changing


As an adopted person without any documented family history that I could get my hands on until mid-adulthood, I have looked back on how my identity has changed over the years.  Post-adoption,  I became the daughter of English, White, middle class, Presbyterians.  Then, as an adult, I became a city-living, Italian (people around me kept telling me I looked Italian) who rejected the values of my childhood and was a non-church attender. Later after I married and before we bought a house in a Catholic neighborhood, my husband and I lived in a poor neighborhood close to downtown. (I called it our “sociological experiment”). We became members of a Baptist church.  For a time, I volunteered in pro-life women’s clinics (my true self couldn’t stomach it, so this was a very brief period of time). Then later I became a pro-choice Catholic after identifying with the neighborhood we lived in and the school our son attended (plus I had learned my birth father was Catholic).  Our family was hugely involved in the neighborhood parish and I truly admired how Catholic families value their children’s education.

In my 40’s, learning my maternal birth family was upper middle class, huge football fans, dog lovers (cat 😻lover first and foremost here) and FOX-News watchers was a bit of a shock to my system. Learning that for generations my maternal family were married in the same Congregational Church was eye-opening  (never even heard of this Protestant denomination).  However, meeting them helped me to solidify my own beliefs, values and how I see the world.   

Today in my 50’s, I am a pro-choice, pro-LGBTQ+, animal loving, CCW toting, mixed race women who values equality, family, and peace. I vote Democrat for the most part but I have voted Republican.  I am Protestant now; however, I recognize I could be any Christian denomination and still have a deep love of God, Jesus and nature.   Our family purposefully chose where we now live because it is not considered being part of the country club neighborhoods that surround us to the north and to the south. We wanted our kids to experience as much diversity as possible in a mixed-class area of town with decent schools. Our neighbors are down-to-earth as are our friends.  I believe being adopted brought two paradoxical outcomes:  identity confusion and the freedom to create my identity in a way that allowed me to fully show my true self at that time it was evolving. Without the blood ties and historical expectations that many non-adopted children inherit, I was able to create my identity outside of those confines. I am feeling more solid than ever these days.

 7. I Value Family Preservation


I believe that families should be supported to stay together before the word adoption is ever uttered.  Does that mean I think it’s ok for kids to be abused?  Absolutely not.  However, if a biological parent is not available to parent, I believe that family members or close friends (kinship care) is the next-best-thing.  A child loses too much when they lose all connection to their family and community. This is also true for adoptive families who later rupture.  I do not believe open adoption mitigates these losses.  It helps but it can never fully repair the loss (see #3). Private Infant adoption allows one party (the mother) to relinquish a child and sever that child’s connection to their family and community.  There is no requirement that she seek a family member, in fact the law supports her to relinquish to strangers and to do it quickly.  

8. I learned to look at the adoption industry with a critical eye


The multi-billion dollar industry of infant adoption and international adoption needs a complete over-haul.  Paper orphans, coercion of mothers, leading parents to believe that adoption is just a form of educating kids in a foreign land, needs to stop.  Treating adopted people’s birth and adoption information as a state secret is wrong.  Unfortunately because we are a minority (see #1), our voices are not the loudest.  Adoptive parents will have to be the biggest supporters of change before anyone will truly listen to adopted people.

 9. It taught me about the freedom of creating your own family

Similar to identity being a social construct, I am a big believer in” you choose your family”.  This idea is supportive of adoption but also, more importantly, supportive of freedom in adulthood.  As children, we had no choice.  Biological or adopted, we got what we got. Some of us won the parent lottery – others did not.  The great thing about being an adult is you can create your own family any way you choose.  If that means no biological or adoptive family and it consists only of supportive and loving friends and neighbors, then that’s o.k.  You get to choose.

10. I learned about community

I saved this one for last because it is the biggest and most important lesson and blessing I have received by being adopted.  When invalidation comes walking through the door (which it invariably does being a public adoption blogger), I can turn to my community of adoptees, adoptive parents and birth parents who “get it”. They are always there. All I have to do is log into one of our private groups, attend
a support meeting or call a friend.. . . I have community and that means everything to me.  πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“







Lynn Grubb lives in Ohio with her husband, daughter, dog, cat and two ferrets.  Visit her at NoApologies for Being Me.





[1] From the poem, “Paradox” by Lynn Grubb






No comments:

Post a Comment

Share your reaction, your thoughts, and your opinions. Be passionate, be unapologetic but do not be rude. Our authors and readers are people with feelings. Offensive remarks will not be published.