Sometimes it feels like my life is a movie and seeing as I'm really bad at coming up with titles, the title would be bad. This blog follows my journey through my personal adoption reunion.
Showing posts with label introduction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label introduction. Show all posts
Friday, April 8, 2011
Letter Series: Intro
This entire series has been moved. You can read it here: http://insertbadmovietitlehere.wordpress.com/2011/04/08/letter-series-intro/
Friday, March 25, 2011
Adoption-Ed 101: Intro
I’m so glad the truth challenge is over. It ended up being a lot harder than I thought it would be. I started it while I was working on some other posts and figured I’d give myself some time to reflect on all of the things I’ve been learning and all the massive changes in my reunion. I took my time, reflected, and enjoyed all the wonderful comments that people have posted. I am still amazed that other people actually read this blog. I started it thinking that I would just put my voice out there and if nobody wanted to hear it, then that was ok with me. I did this for me and I am amazed every day with how many page views I get (unless I just have two people who constantly check my blog every five minutes).
I started talking to some non-adoptees about some of the issues surrounding adoption and I was surprised initially about how little people know about some of the basic issues adoptees face. I am a big believer that education is key to understanding the world so I have decided to dedicate the next few weeks to blogging about some of the basic issues that I have learned about regarding adoption. If you already know this stuff, then sorry for the boring posts but please help me out in the comments!
While adoptees only make up about 2% of the US population, it has been estimated that approximately 60% of Americans are touched in some way by adoption. These people are either members of a first family, members of a second/third/fourth (etc) family, or people who are close to adoptees. Adoption touches millions of lives. It's important and it matters. For such a big issue, shouldn't people want to be educated?
I have come to believe that if people really knew what went on in adoptions, they would understand why it’s so important to have open records. Most people probably don’t even have a clue as to what open records are. I think that until more non-adoptees learn just how hard it is to learn your identity as an adoptee and why it’s so important, we will never succeed in getting what we want here in the US. That’s just my theory but this is me doing something about it.
Just to clarify, state laws vary. My birth state is Massachusetts so I’m going to focus on Massachusetts laws. Some states are similar; others are very different so please make sure you check the laws in your own state for a full understanding.
I started talking to some non-adoptees about some of the issues surrounding adoption and I was surprised initially about how little people know about some of the basic issues adoptees face. I am a big believer that education is key to understanding the world so I have decided to dedicate the next few weeks to blogging about some of the basic issues that I have learned about regarding adoption. If you already know this stuff, then sorry for the boring posts but please help me out in the comments!
While adoptees only make up about 2% of the US population, it has been estimated that approximately 60% of Americans are touched in some way by adoption. These people are either members of a first family, members of a second/third/fourth (etc) family, or people who are close to adoptees. Adoption touches millions of lives. It's important and it matters. For such a big issue, shouldn't people want to be educated?
I have come to believe that if people really knew what went on in adoptions, they would understand why it’s so important to have open records. Most people probably don’t even have a clue as to what open records are. I think that until more non-adoptees learn just how hard it is to learn your identity as an adoptee and why it’s so important, we will never succeed in getting what we want here in the US. That’s just my theory but this is me doing something about it.
Just to clarify, state laws vary. My birth state is Massachusetts so I’m going to focus on Massachusetts laws. Some states are similar; others are very different so please make sure you check the laws in your own state for a full understanding.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Hello and Introduction
Hello everyone and welcome to my Blog! I figured that this would be a good way to document my Lifetime-movie-type-of-life and keep everyone updated on my progress. If I was a really good blogger, I would have decided to do this sooner and I would have been blogging for almost the past year now. So please forgive me if I start from the beginning and it takes a little while for me to get up to speed. I have a feeling it’s going to take me a while to get up to present day, but the way I see it, I have all the time in the world and if you’re reading this, you probably have some free time as well. Ok, enough of a disclaimer, time to tell you all more about me.
I want to start by saying that I grew up in a great family. My parents are both from large extended families and we all stayed in the same place. Nobody with the exception of a cousin or two has moved more than two hours away from home and we all get together randomly. For the most part, we’re a pretty “normal” family. We don’t always agree, but in the end, we’re family and that’s all that really matters. I start with this because I think it’s important to understanding this story. Without my family, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. On a similar note, I have a wonderful group of friends. My friends have become a part of my family in a way and without them, this past year would have been unbearable. It wasn’t always an easy ride, but I truly feel blessed to have these wonderful people in my life and I wouldn’t change any of that for the world.
My immediate family consists of me, my mom, my dad, and my little sister. My mom is from an Irish family, big, loud, and pretty much what you think of when you think of Irish people. My dad is from an Italian family (with a little bit of Irish mixed in) and I grew up eating Italian desserts and hearing stories about my great-grandmother who used to swear in Italian when she was upset. It makes for interesting get-together’s. Oh, and did I mention that my grandparents are best friends? This means that both families intermingle with each other and it’s more like one huge giant family. It might sound slightly weird, but a fun environment to grow up in.
What makes this story slightly more interesting is that I am adopted. My parents tried to have kids for ten years and finally went to an adoption agency. They were approved and were told that that they would have to wait for a few months or up to two years to get a baby. They only had to wait a few months before they got the call about me. My parents were skiing for the New Year with a few of my aunts and uncles and when they got home, they got a phone call about me. They only had a few days to get everything ready for me. Most people have nine months to prepare. My parents had less than a week. My aunt ended up getting a baby shower together in less than two days. Again, this is where this big supportive family is really important. I came home January 7th and I’ve been a part of the family ever since. After a few years, my parents decided that they wanted me to have a sibling. We moved into a bigger house in the suburbs with a good school system and my sister was adopted a few months later. Where I was two months old when I came home, my sister was only two days old. My parents had met with her natural mother before she was born and they had a little bit more time to get ready. As a three year old, I guess I understood my adoption better seeing how things worked with my sister.
Before my sister was born, my mom put together a baby book for me. It was my adoption story all laid out like a children’s picture book with pictures of me and my parents. It explained about how I was adopted and how my parents waited a long time to have me and about how I had natural parents who wanted what was best for me and that included giving me up. My parents would read it to me like a bed time story and answer my questions. They were adamant that even though I didn’t grow in my mommy’s belly like other kids did, that didn’t make them love me any less and it just meant that I had four people who loved me very much and wanted what was best for me when most kids only had two. I was extra special in their eyes. Growing up and hearing this every day that’s what I thought was normal. It was how I was raised. I include that in this blog because that’s what I get asked about all the time. I don’t remember how old I was, it’s just always been a part of my life. I don’t mind talking about it, as witnessed in this blog.
As I got older, my adoption didn’t come up as much. It’s not that it became a bad subject, but it was just rarely mentioned. My mom didn’t always like talking about it because she didn’t want me to get hurt. I think it’s easier to talk about adoption with children and a whole other story when those children become teenagers. By the time I went to college, things got a bit more interesting. The only thing I grew up knowing was that I was born in a southern city in Massachusetts and that my natural mother’s name was Nicole* and that she was 21 when she had me. That was pretty much it.
Coming from the city I was born and based on my brown hair and brown eyes, chances were that I was at least a little Portuguese, and my mom told me that the paperwork she had listed me as French, and Irish, and a bunch of other things she couldn’t remember (she lied). I ended up moving in with a girl in college whose father had emigrated from Portugal. She couldn’t understand how I could be Portuguese and not have any connection to my heritage. I spent a lot of time in college trying to figure out who I was. I came to the conclusion that I knew who I was as a person, but I only had this vague sense of where I came from. I think that’s something that most people take for granted. They don’t think about what it feels like to be mistaken for a friend rather than a sister, or to have people stare at you and state that you look nothing like the rest of your family. I really started to feel like knowing my past was something worth figuring out someday. And that’s where this story really starts.
*Names have been changed
I want to start by saying that I grew up in a great family. My parents are both from large extended families and we all stayed in the same place. Nobody with the exception of a cousin or two has moved more than two hours away from home and we all get together randomly. For the most part, we’re a pretty “normal” family. We don’t always agree, but in the end, we’re family and that’s all that really matters. I start with this because I think it’s important to understanding this story. Without my family, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. On a similar note, I have a wonderful group of friends. My friends have become a part of my family in a way and without them, this past year would have been unbearable. It wasn’t always an easy ride, but I truly feel blessed to have these wonderful people in my life and I wouldn’t change any of that for the world.
My immediate family consists of me, my mom, my dad, and my little sister. My mom is from an Irish family, big, loud, and pretty much what you think of when you think of Irish people. My dad is from an Italian family (with a little bit of Irish mixed in) and I grew up eating Italian desserts and hearing stories about my great-grandmother who used to swear in Italian when she was upset. It makes for interesting get-together’s. Oh, and did I mention that my grandparents are best friends? This means that both families intermingle with each other and it’s more like one huge giant family. It might sound slightly weird, but a fun environment to grow up in.
What makes this story slightly more interesting is that I am adopted. My parents tried to have kids for ten years and finally went to an adoption agency. They were approved and were told that that they would have to wait for a few months or up to two years to get a baby. They only had to wait a few months before they got the call about me. My parents were skiing for the New Year with a few of my aunts and uncles and when they got home, they got a phone call about me. They only had a few days to get everything ready for me. Most people have nine months to prepare. My parents had less than a week. My aunt ended up getting a baby shower together in less than two days. Again, this is where this big supportive family is really important. I came home January 7th and I’ve been a part of the family ever since. After a few years, my parents decided that they wanted me to have a sibling. We moved into a bigger house in the suburbs with a good school system and my sister was adopted a few months later. Where I was two months old when I came home, my sister was only two days old. My parents had met with her natural mother before she was born and they had a little bit more time to get ready. As a three year old, I guess I understood my adoption better seeing how things worked with my sister.
Before my sister was born, my mom put together a baby book for me. It was my adoption story all laid out like a children’s picture book with pictures of me and my parents. It explained about how I was adopted and how my parents waited a long time to have me and about how I had natural parents who wanted what was best for me and that included giving me up. My parents would read it to me like a bed time story and answer my questions. They were adamant that even though I didn’t grow in my mommy’s belly like other kids did, that didn’t make them love me any less and it just meant that I had four people who loved me very much and wanted what was best for me when most kids only had two. I was extra special in their eyes. Growing up and hearing this every day that’s what I thought was normal. It was how I was raised. I include that in this blog because that’s what I get asked about all the time. I don’t remember how old I was, it’s just always been a part of my life. I don’t mind talking about it, as witnessed in this blog.
As I got older, my adoption didn’t come up as much. It’s not that it became a bad subject, but it was just rarely mentioned. My mom didn’t always like talking about it because she didn’t want me to get hurt. I think it’s easier to talk about adoption with children and a whole other story when those children become teenagers. By the time I went to college, things got a bit more interesting. The only thing I grew up knowing was that I was born in a southern city in Massachusetts and that my natural mother’s name was Nicole* and that she was 21 when she had me. That was pretty much it.
Coming from the city I was born and based on my brown hair and brown eyes, chances were that I was at least a little Portuguese, and my mom told me that the paperwork she had listed me as French, and Irish, and a bunch of other things she couldn’t remember (she lied). I ended up moving in with a girl in college whose father had emigrated from Portugal. She couldn’t understand how I could be Portuguese and not have any connection to my heritage. I spent a lot of time in college trying to figure out who I was. I came to the conclusion that I knew who I was as a person, but I only had this vague sense of where I came from. I think that’s something that most people take for granted. They don’t think about what it feels like to be mistaken for a friend rather than a sister, or to have people stare at you and state that you look nothing like the rest of your family. I really started to feel like knowing my past was something worth figuring out someday. And that’s where this story really starts.
*Names have been changed
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