The Story of My Life: The Lighter Side of Adoption

Just before turning five, my family moved from Indiana to Wisconsin. My dad had taken a job with Shepherds Home in Union Grove working with adults who had intellectual disabilities.  At this point in my life, I began to understand what it meant to be adopted.  My parents had told me of my adoption from the beginning. They never tried to keep that a secret from me.  I grew up being told that I was special because I had been chosen and that a great sacrifice had been made by my birth mother to give me up.  I had no reason to believe otherwise.  My parents had taken me in as their own daughter and loved me the same.



Three years after moving to Wisconsin, we moved to North Carolina where my dad began teaching the Special Education classes for those training to be teachers at what was at the time Piedmont Bible College.   It was during the next couple of years that I was able to see what the adoption process was like as my parents were going through the steps of adopting my younger brother, Sam.  I remember the home visits, them talking about me getting a little brother and then finally the trip to Indiana to pick him up.  I also remember that at 8 years of age, I wasn't the best at handling babies and the first time I held Sam I accidentally bumped his head against the wall and he started crying. (Sorry, Sam!)  Thankfully I got better as time went on. I really loved having a baby brother to play with and to help take care of, except for maybe the diaper changes.



Through the years, I always found it amusing when we would go places and people would tell my parents that I looked just like them.  Imagine all of the surprised faces when we would tell them that I was adopted.  Inside it always made me giggle a little bit.  At the same time, it also made me feel good to know that to others I appeared to be my parents natural child.

There were awkward moments at times. The one I remember the most was when one of my boy cousins said to me, "You know we really aren't cousins...." That is the moment when you wish you really were biologically related and then you run away as fast as you can from the creep.

Some of my most favorite childhood memories begin the summer I turned 13.  That was the summer I met my sweet friend, Michelle.  She had also moved to North Carolina from Wisconsin and I think that helped us to bond quickly and become fast friends.  We loved to hang out together, share secrets about boys, talk about boys, go bike riding so we could ride by boys houses, write letters to each other about boys,  speak in made up languages and just have a good old time.  Since we both had brown hair and brown eyes, and people often mistook us for sisters, we found it entertaining if we just told people that we were.



Here is the crazy made up story we used to tell:

Our birthdays were only four days apart - mine on August 25th and hers on August 29th.  So when people would ask if we were sisters, we would laugh and say yes.  We would tell people that I was adopted but that we really were twins separated at birth that were just born four days apart.  "Mom" had gone through a long, tough labor and since our "parents" were unable to take care of both of us, they had to give one of us away. Since I was born first, I was the one that was chosen to be given up for adoption. We had amazingly been reunited once Michelle's family (aka my birth family) had moved down here from Wisconsin and were able to enjoy growing up together from that point on.

So many people believed us, especially once we were old enough to have our driver's licenses and could prove our birthdays to them. It was so fun!  Michelle was the closest thing I had to a sister growing up. And even though we really aren't related, I consider us sisters in my heart.  I am so thankful that God brought her into my life and for our friendship over the past thirty years.

Thinking back, I think this may have been the time that I began to wonder if I did have family out there somewhere and if so, what exactly were they like. I wondered if they could possibly be someone that I knew or were friends with. I wondered if it were possible that I could really somehow be related to my parents and that is why people thought I looked like them.  The thought never crossed my mind that I could ever find out.  Little did I know....