Adoption should not be kept secret; love conquers all

Adoption.

Once, long ago, it was a hush-hush thing. I am not sure that I understand why, but it was. I suppose for some people it may still be something that should be tucked under a rug. I can’t imagine why. I am an adoptive parent and I can honestly say that I feel adoption is one of the most beautiful things in this life.

Adoption gave my husband and me our two children and has allowed us to be blessed beyond measure by them. Plus, I really don’t think keeping secrets is a good idea. Why keep it from a child or others? The truth always comes out and it’s no big deal if it was never made to be a big deal in the first place.

We have always believed that children of adoption—actually all children--should be raised in complete honesty and that adoption never be a subject of secrecy. One of our children was old enough to know we were not his biological parents, but had we wanted to keep it a secret from our daughter we could have.

She was a tiny three-week old infant when we brought her home. Our hearts were so grateful for our baby’s birth mother. Her bravery to place her child, that she loved, with strangers because she trusted it was what was best at that time, touched our hearts deeply.

My baby girl was placed into my arms by her birth mother. I fell in love with her and her mother at that very second, as did my husband. We wanted to share what little we knew with our child. Keeping the adoption a secret was simply never a consideration.

That instant love also happened the day my then four-year old son took my hand in his and said, “Ya’ll can be my new mommy and daddy if you want to.” Wow. Tears, all over again. Of course we did, we were and we are. My son is a very private young man so I will not share further his story, for that is for him to tell.

Our daughter always heard our words of love and how much her birth mother loved her from the time she was an infant. It was never a secret. As a toddler and then later on, we showed her a picture of her birth mom. It was a “given” that one day we would help our children reconnect with their biological parents, if they wanted that connection. Each has chosen a different route. We have nothing but total love and respect for both of their decisions.

I have been asked by many people, friends, acquaintances and family, if I ever felt threatened by the possibility of the biological family’s reentrance into my children’s lives. That’s a loaded question in some ways. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t have feelings of trepidation at different times as the children grew closer to being 18 years-old. That’s the age I had always promised them that I would help them find their birth families.

I literally got sick to my stomach at times, worried, like most adoptive parents and even foster parents (we were long-term foster parents many years ago), that my children would leave me and cling to their birth mother. We had had to say good-bye way too soon to our four biological children (born prematurely) and I didn’t know if either of us could take losing our son and daughter, should they leave.

My husband never seemed worried and helped keep my feelings in check. I believe he kept any worry he had deep inside himself. Ultimately, it was an absolute that I would put my own fears and feelings aside and help my children if they asked. And, I have.

For more than a year now, we have had our daughter’s birth mother in our lives. Last year, through Google and Facebook, I located Leslie. It has been such a blessing to our family to have her. I was scared and physically sick the night I found the picture of the woman I believed to be her. But, I nervously messaged her anyway. A mere six hours later I got a positive response.

It was scary and amazing all at once. We texted and emailed constantly for many days before I told my daughter. It was a good thing then and a very good thing now. (By the way, I don’t mind sharing these things here because, well, my family lives life “out loud” as some say and the world of Facebook has long known of this adoption story.) Indeed, within two weeks of finding our Leslie, we were all posting on Facebook about our miracle, sharing pictures and words of love. It was surreal.

It would be a couple of months before we all met face-to-face.

I will not tell a lot about the reunion, because I think that is Leslie’s and my daughter’s stories to tell—the three of us hope to one day pen a book about our journeys before, during and after adoption. Our book is tentatively titled, “All Together Now.”

For now, what I will say is that the connection was instantaneous. I had heard from other adoptees about how their own reunions did not go well or there was no connection or that the initial connection soon faded. I had also heard of adoptive parents who were not supportive of their adoptive children’s need to find biological parents. My husband and I were determined to not be that way, but rather be supportive and accepting.

There was no lack of connection.

Our daughter was enamored with her birth mother; they nearly looked like twins. I delighted in watching them interact, noticing that their mannerisms were almost identical. At dinner, we discovered they liked the same foods, clothes and so much more. It was one of the happiest days of my life, and I believe their lives, as well.

I marveled at how much they looked alike and Leslie remarked how much our daughter looked and acted like me. I don’t pretend to know the answer to the question as to whether it’s biology or environment that has the most influence on a child, but I will say that I see so much of all of us in my child that I see no reason to even care what the answer is or is not.

Just more than a week ago, my husband and I renewed our wedding vows for our 31st wedding anniversary. I had three attendants. My sister, my daughter and our Leslie.

So many people asked me “who” the young lady was standing next to my now-grown daughter. To their surprise I answered, “Oh, that’s Leslie, our daughter’s birth mother.”

Some people’s eyes got really big and others just smiled. Most commented how sweet that I would include her. I always immediately answered that we love Leslie so very much and that she is a part of our family.

I now consider her my good friend, not just my daughter’s birth mother. I even posted on Facebook that our family circle is now virtually complete because Leslie is in our family now. We can’t even imagine that she was not always here. It’s so natural and normal for us to have our Leslie, maybe because we always talked of her, remembered her, were thankful for her and loved her.

Loved her. Love her. Love never fails.

Jan Murray is a staff writer for The Southeast Sun and Daleville Sun-Courier. The opinions of this writer are her own and not the opinion of the paper. She can be reached at (334) 393-2969 or by email at [email protected].