Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Adoption Stories
Today I am reflecting on the adoption stories I have heard over this past year and on my own. I just got back from DC where I met more adoptive families, heard more adoption stories and told my own story to many people. It is really starting to hit me how many people there are that could tell "my" adoption story in the first person.
From my point of view (briefly): I was six years old when I was adopted out of foster care where I lived in a horrible foster home for a little less than a year. My brother then 7 was to be adopted with me, his adoption placement failed and he was later adopted by our grandparents. My little brother, 4 was immediately adopted and the last time I saw him was when he was 5. My adoptive parents provided a good home, had two biological children after the adoption. I had off and on contact with my older brother once we were adults. He died in 2011 which is also the year (and about the same time) my little brother contacted me and together we met our birth mother (again). We also found our sister who had been placed at birth and in March 2012 we all were reunited.
This is the brief account, without a lot of details, but consider all people touched this adoption. There are my adoptive parents (they have yet to really share with me the adoption story from their point of view), my birth mother (her story is a book in itself), my older brother (no longer here to share it but it too could be a book), my younger brother (he doesn't remember much pre-adoption, but he is a huge part of my past story and now my present), my siblings I grew up with (not adopted but it would be interesting to know more of how they view adoption and what it means to them), my sister (her history of adoption is different than my brothers and I but just as compelling), and then a whole array of aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents and family friends (both adoptive and birth) on the fringes of each of our stories. One adoption and yet so many people.
In DC I also realized there are others that make adoption possible (or impossible). There are lawyers, judges, agencies, CPS, advocacy groups, social workers, counselors, doctors, teachers and child care workers. There are even (in some states) very involved congressmen and women, and lobbyists that are working tirelessly to improve on the process, to make more homes available and to get more and better support for pre and post adoptive families. The list goes on and on my friends.
I think all this struck me because as a child, my adoption seemed to be such a small thing. My little life, a little part of my life that was tucked away and hidden from just about everyone. My parents didn't ask me about what I thought or felt about adoption, we didn't talk about it really. I felt different at times, was treated differently at other times, but mostly I wanted to be like everyone else. I had no idea there were so many others directly or indirectly touched in life changing ways because of my adoption. Now as an adult I am starting to put all the pieces together. I am meeting adopted children and families almost everyday. And I am seeing what a big deal it is. What a great story every adoption is no matter how young or old the child, how big or small the trauma, every adoption affects a lot of people in HUGE life changing ways even if they don't want it to.
Once again, as I reflect on adoption, mine and others and the many more adoptive stories I will be a part of in the coming days, months and years, I realize to be adopted is an amazing adventure. I am thankful for the journey.
From my point of view (briefly): I was six years old when I was adopted out of foster care where I lived in a horrible foster home for a little less than a year. My brother then 7 was to be adopted with me, his adoption placement failed and he was later adopted by our grandparents. My little brother, 4 was immediately adopted and the last time I saw him was when he was 5. My adoptive parents provided a good home, had two biological children after the adoption. I had off and on contact with my older brother once we were adults. He died in 2011 which is also the year (and about the same time) my little brother contacted me and together we met our birth mother (again). We also found our sister who had been placed at birth and in March 2012 we all were reunited.
This is the brief account, without a lot of details, but consider all people touched this adoption. There are my adoptive parents (they have yet to really share with me the adoption story from their point of view), my birth mother (her story is a book in itself), my older brother (no longer here to share it but it too could be a book), my younger brother (he doesn't remember much pre-adoption, but he is a huge part of my past story and now my present), my siblings I grew up with (not adopted but it would be interesting to know more of how they view adoption and what it means to them), my sister (her history of adoption is different than my brothers and I but just as compelling), and then a whole array of aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents and family friends (both adoptive and birth) on the fringes of each of our stories. One adoption and yet so many people.
In DC I also realized there are others that make adoption possible (or impossible). There are lawyers, judges, agencies, CPS, advocacy groups, social workers, counselors, doctors, teachers and child care workers. There are even (in some states) very involved congressmen and women, and lobbyists that are working tirelessly to improve on the process, to make more homes available and to get more and better support for pre and post adoptive families. The list goes on and on my friends.
I think all this struck me because as a child, my adoption seemed to be such a small thing. My little life, a little part of my life that was tucked away and hidden from just about everyone. My parents didn't ask me about what I thought or felt about adoption, we didn't talk about it really. I felt different at times, was treated differently at other times, but mostly I wanted to be like everyone else. I had no idea there were so many others directly or indirectly touched in life changing ways because of my adoption. Now as an adult I am starting to put all the pieces together. I am meeting adopted children and families almost everyday. And I am seeing what a big deal it is. What a great story every adoption is no matter how young or old the child, how big or small the trauma, every adoption affects a lot of people in HUGE life changing ways even if they don't want it to.
Once again, as I reflect on adoption, mine and others and the many more adoptive stories I will be a part of in the coming days, months and years, I realize to be adopted is an amazing adventure. I am thankful for the journey.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Trauma and addiction
Please read this article on addiction and trauma. It is from Medical News Today.
http://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/249756.php
http://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/249756.php
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