As comfortable as I am with my own adoption, and how much I adore my parents, I use to wonder growing up how I would connect and or feel once I met my birth parents. The inner child in me long to know.
Let me tell you my story of how I became adopted.
I was born to a mom who was the oldest of 6 kids and a father who was in the military and the half sibling of 4. Together they had me on the base in my mother's home town. This is where we stayed for a while since my dad was stationed there. As I grew, I grew to love my parents and form memories of home. A little over a year and half passed and we were on our way to another state where my dad was stationed for my brother to be born. (one of my first memories I have....more later) He was born with a hole in his heart so they had to have that repaired and all was well after that. So we took a bus back to my mom's home town. We continued to live happily (as far as I recall) until one day we were picked up by my father and whipped away (without our mom) to his home town in another state. Here he divorced her and remarried his 2nd wife. The evil wicked step mother!!!!
At age 3 I am wondering where's mommy? Why is she not here? Why is she not coming for me? I'm scared.
My father never mentions her and acts as though life is just peachy with his new wife. Traveling from base to base. While he is drinking and drugging. While he is away The abuse starts. My brother cries to loud and SHE pulls out the broom and hits him with it. I protest and she back hands me and tells me to shut the hell up and grabs me by the hair of my head and pulls me to the sink to scrub my mouth out with soap over and over until it bleeds and then because I wont stop crying she locks me into a closet for hours. While sitting in the closet I can hear her beating the hell out of my brother and hear his screams. I am wondering to myself ..(silently sobbing for fear of being beat) where's my mommy and daddy) suddenly everything goes silent. I sit still waiting not wanting to upset her again...after what seems like hours, the door is opened and its my daddy. So glad to be rescued from the closet and picked up into his arms, I look around for my baby brother and see that he is in his crib bruised but quite with a bottle. Relieved that for now things are back to normal.
I end with this today...I started this blog for more therapeutic reasons than anything else but I hope in doing so it may help someone else.
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Only GOD can turn a MESS into a MESSage, a TEST into a TESimony, a TRIAL into a TRIumph, a VICTim into a VITory. GOD is GOOD..all the time!
