i think adoption can be a weird thing to understand unless it’s touched your life in a direct way.
in my experience a lot of people hear my adoption story and they say things about how loving my parents must be to accept children into their home that aren’t theirs. or they talk about how lucky i am. but very rarely does anyone say that adoption is just how it was supposed to be for our family to come together.
when i was 14 my parents decided to foster-to-adopt. they had me and they had my younger brother (their biological son), but they felt like there was a missing member to our family. a baby sister.
on december 10, 2001 my baby brother, joey was born. he was born to a woman who didn’t want him. he was born without anyone who wanted to take him home. we got the call to pick him up from the hospital – as an emergency solution. he was only supposed to be with us a week until a permanent foster family could be found.
i met joey on december 12, 2001 at the hospital. he was teeny and had a head full of long black hair. i was only 15. at the time i would have told you meeting him was like getting the best present ever or falling in love. now that i’m older i can say with assurance that meeting him was like finding a missing part of myself that i didn’t even realize was missing.
we are the only family joey has ever had (unless you count while he was in the womb). i love that part of his adoption story. i love knowing that he has always belonged to us. but honestly, even when he was in the womb of that other woman, the one planning to abort or abandon, he belonged to us.
10+ years later, he’s still one of my favorite people on planet earth. he’s crazy awesome. and i’m ridiculously confident that my parents don’t look at their kids as the one that’s REALLY theirs and the two that aren’t. all 3 of us belong to them, only one of us looks like them.
it’s really not that hard to understand.
adoption isn’t charity. or humanitarianism. it’s not being a good samaritan. it’s just the way it’s supposed to be for some families.