My Adoptive Parents

Where do they fit in this? I’ve heard someone say recently that adoptees don’t always fit their adoptive parents into the whole adoption mix. I’m not sure exactly what she meant, but I kind of took it as a criticism like adoptees don’t see the role that their adoptive parents played in the whole problem of adoption. This got me thinking about my adoptive parents and how they fit into the complex puzzle.

I know that for me, I have a lot of anger at times directed at my natural mother. My anger is directed at her at times for specific things that she has said to me (because some of them were said to hurt me or to push me away) and my anger is often directed at the situation, because it all together stinks. My anger is rarely directed at my natural father because he is doing the best he can, except when he wants to introduce me as a niece. My anger is almost never directed at my adoptive parents.

First of all, my adoptive parents wanted to have their own children. They tried for ten years. My mother doesn’t really talk about it and I never asked. I don’t know if it was her, if it was him, or what the deal is. I never asked if she had a miscarriage, and I don’t know if she ever did. When the whole biological children thing didn’t happen, they turned to adoption because a friend was going through the same thing. They passed all the checks and were told they were going to have to wait. And they were ok with that. I’m sure they weren’t thrilled about waiting, but they understood that the benefit would be worth it. They didn’t have to wait long. They were picked by my natural parents. They had five days to get ready for me, and I know that one of those days was spent meeting me.

I don’t think there is anything wrong with wanting a child. I was an infant, but I was adopted from foster care. My natural parents didn’t want me. They didn’t coerce some young girl who might have actually wanted to keep me. They didn’t pay for her expenses and therefore make her inclined to give them her baby. They got a baby who had no parents. They got a baby who truly wasn’t wanted.

I have a hard time of seeing them as the huge problem. They didn’t partake in a lot of the things that I hate about how adoption is practiced these days. They made mistakes while I was growing up, but they didn’t really know better. They didn’t have blogs to read. They didn’t have access to adoptees. They were sort of on their own. They told me I was adopted from the beginning. They did their best to make me feel included. They most certainly made me feel loved.

Should they have made more of an effort to help me understand where I came from? Yes. Should they have taken me to a few Portuguese festivals (there are a bunch in the state) so I could feel a bit more like I belonged? Yes. Should they have made more of an effort to talk to me about adoption when I was a teenager? Yes. Should they have told me about SinginInTheRain rather than hinting that nothing was known about my biological father? Yes. Did they do these things to hurt me? No, just the opposite. They did what they thought would hurt me less. They didn’t think that this stuff mattered. They really didn’t know any better. I have a hard time villainizing my parents, the people who have loved and cared for me since the day they got me. They have done a whole lot more for me that my natural parents have. And they are my parents. They have their faults, but I love them anyway and I always will.

As a side note, today is the first day of the Lost Daughters blog.  Please please please go over and read!