Sunshine and Rainbows. That’s what growing up as an adoptee in the 1970’s San Francisco Bay Area felt like. I always knew I was adopted, as was my older sister. We were very close to our parents who were open minded, loving and supportive.
But as a child of the Baby Scoop era, knowing you were adopted and having any information about your biological family were two different things.
I didn’t ask for my adoption file, which my parents had, until I was in my thirties and married. I wanted to know what genetic threads I might be passing on if we had a baby. In the file was my first mother’s name. I found her phone number and address online but I decided not to contact her. I was happy with my life and worried it would hurt my adoptive parents, who I adored.
When my husband and I had trouble conceiving, we decided to skip IVF and adopt. At the time, I couldn’t justify the invasive medical procedure when adoption was so celebrated in my family.
It wasn’t until we adopted our second child that I had my ah-ha moment. Witnessing our daughter with her first family triggered my awakening. With her first family, there was an ease in her that I had never felt in myself. The genetic mirroring and sense of belonging was an undeniable bond.
Seeing that connection encouraged me to contact my first mother. While she was friendly in our brief correspondence, she was also guarded. Her children don’t know about me.
As someone who lives on two sides of the triad, I try to use what I’ve learned as an adoptee to raise my kids consciously. Adoption is traumatic. Openness and access to first family is vital. By acknowledging the trauma of separation, one can integrate the wound and heal the pain. I know that you can have deep love for your adopted family and also feel like you don’t belong.
Since adoption is a lifelong journey, my feelings continue to evolve. Writing and community has helped me make sense of my world. Lately I’ve accepted that I’m the sum of my parts; nature and nurture, past known and unknown, family lost and family made. Sharing our adoption stories connects us and can inspire meaningful change.
Explore my project on reproductive rights @dearamystories