Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Happy Adoption Story?

You could say, if you had to label it, that my adoption story is a good one, maybe even great.  After my son was born, I did go on to have a great life.  I went back to my high school & old job the fall after I had my son, resumed my life as a typical teenager.  It was only eight months after I had Christopher that I met my husband, who I have now been married to for over 27 years.  We have three children, and 6 (soon to be 7!) grandchildren.  I get to see my kids & grandkids almost every day, as our grown children both chose to live close to us.  I have more friends than one could hope for, a job that I love, a beautiful home, more blessings than I could ever deserve.

(I don't mean to speak for my son, but the following are things he has said regarding his life.)  Christopher was adopted by wonderful parents, he had a big sister (also adopted) who doted on him also.  He lived a small town life ~ full of extended family that loved him too.  He wanted for nothing, says he had a "Leave It To Beaver" childhood.  He participated in sports and other extra curricular activities, he was taught to work hard, was raised in a Christian church, enjoyed the family cabin on the lake every summer, was sent to college.  He received everything that I ever dreamed for him, and so much more.  He got married to the love of his life after graduating from college, and they are now parents to a son & a daughter. 

Our lives however, are not the makings of a fairy tale.  Even though our lives could be portrayed by some as a positive, happy, adoption-is-wonderful, story.  Adoption is built on loss.  I lost a child, grandchildren, a life of loving on them.  Christopher lost his natural parents, his geneology, his ancestry. 

If I had not been dealing with such a tremendous loss, would I have been a better student?  A better employee?  A better friend, wife, mother to my raised children, better to myself?

If Christopher had been raised by me, would his life really have been that much different?  He may not have had a father in his life at first, but I believe that I still would have met & fallen in love with my husband.  He would have been a great father to Christopher.  Perhaps if I had raised him, he would have brought some happiness and love into our house ~ my parents became excellent grandparents just 2 1/2 years later when my daughter was born.  They are far better grandparents than they ever were parents.  Christopher may not have had a vacation home on a lake, but he would have had his entire natural family, his history.  He would have had his 3 siblings in his life, his nephew & nieces...

This post is a jumbled mess of thoughts, really going nowhere.  The point I want to make is that even though ours is a "good" story, it is in spite of adoption entering our lives, not because of it.  I did not go on to have a better life because I wasn't "burdened" with a child.  Christopher may well have had just as great, maybe even better life, if he had never been given away.  That is one thing we will never know.

So, even though I have gone on to have so many blessings in my life.  Even though my son seems to have had a wonderful life with his adoptive parents.  Even so, I would not wish my life as a first mom on anybody ~ even my worst enemy.  Adoption was a permanent solution to my temporary problem. 

Little did I know that adoption would become a much bigger permanent problem in the end. 


  1. I know my life was not made "better" through adoption, nor was my First Mother's life made better. Quite the contrary.

    That's the crazy part of adoption- in most cases, it usually only makes the adoptive parent's lives better.

    Thanks for this post.

  2. The thing is we cannot know... if we would have been better off or our kids better off if we had kept them. In some ways, I'm sure "yes," because we would have been in tact, with our biological loved ones. But as for whether it would have been a "better" life for either of us, we can't go back and find out.

    I like to think so. But I know who I was then is far different from who am now, or even then years after my son's birth. Because my son's childhood was nowhere near great, even abusive. I have added regrets. figuring I have done better than his a-parents did.

    But does that make it so?

    I have to accept that I don't know for sure, and that what's done is done.