My Adoptee "status" Does Not Define ME.... My story Part 2

I am not Just an adoptee
I am not Just a daughter
I am not Just a woman
I am not Just a mother, a fiance, or just a friend
I am ME
I am ME because of where I came from,
because of where I went,
How I got there,
because of where I'm going
and How I will get there


I took me quite some time to get to this point.

I guess after the genetics courses in the 7th grade, I started defining myself as an adoptee.

I remember the stares I got as I raised my hand stated that there was no way I could do this assignment, and the way I felt when she said “Well just look at the personality traits you have from your parents.”

I was so different from my parents, how could I see what personality traits I got from them?

I remember that day all too well, I went home and observed.

“My mom is a neat freak; I’m am not
My dad is kind of messy, but well, he’s used to mom picking up after him; guess I get that from him….
My mom is LOUD!! But then again, she only has 10% hearing
I’m loud; but that’s because I’m so used to having to damn near yell so my mom can hear me, I guess I can write that down.
After going through it all I realized that even when you grow up with people, that doesn’t mean that you’re going to be anything like them AT ALL!
I’m super emotional, neither of my parents are. I’m hyper active, loud, can be annoying at times, wear my heart on my sleeves, not very ambitious, I hate anything to do with house work and I just want people to like me, even though I’ve realized I let people walk all over me.”

That’s when the major adoption interrogation happened (my poor mom) She told me everything she knew, and gave me the greatest gift I could have at that time, MY non-identifying info paperwork!!! I will never forget that day.

I went to my room sat on my bed and just stared at all the information my 1st mom had provided! She’s average height and weight, athletic build (LIKE ME!) blonde hair, blue eyes! My grandmother was short (LIKE ME!), and I have AN UNCLE! He was slender, brown hair green eyes! My 1st father side, He was tall and athletic (keep in mind my world was sports at this time, my parents not so much) his mother was short, and as the paperwork explained sounded like she was bottom heavy (LIKE ME!!)

It was insane to think that I seemed to have a very close personality as my 1st parents; we all love sports, she was a sprinter in track, I was a sprinter on the soccer field, and just by reading I knew that my body type with close to both of my grandmothers!!!

So I turned in a paper that stated something along the lines of “Due to the fact that I could not complete the original assignment, and given that the second assignment did not pertain to genetics AT ALL, I have provided similarities that I have with my birth parents,”

Needles to say people do not understand adoption unless they are a part of the triad. My science teacher called my mother, thinking that I made it all up for attention! My mother was livid! Her daughter is now in the midst of an identity crisis and now her teacher is calling her a story teller. That was a hard week….

……more later... thanks for reading!

"My Adoption Story" Part 1...

Guilt: awareness of wrongdoing: an awareness of having done wrong or committed a crime, accompanied by feelings of shame and regret


Logically speaking, I understand the “definition” of the term. Then why do I feel guilty. I have no reason what so ever to feel “guilty”. I have committed no crime, none at all. But in throwing most of my energy into my search, I feel guilty.

My mother knows that I look. But I don’t think she knows how it’s affecting me emotional and how I have viewed myself most of my life because I was adopted.

My mom is a wonderful caring woman, who could not have children. She had no control over that. None at all, in fact between 6 lost pregnancies and stillborns I feel like I was that final missing puzzle piece. She wanted to desperately to be a mother; she nearly died in the process.

Later, came the idea of adoption, they were approved, now a child. My mom said at that point in her life (she was 38) any child, of any age, would have been her final piece.

As it happens I was chosen…there was no matching, “no waiting”. She saw a Catholic Charities commercial In Virginia, remember how they used to show the kids they had in foster care waiting for placement..? Well, I was one of those babies.

She called my dad, and they talked she called Catholic Charities, and they came to see me. Funny thing about me, as an infant I didn’t take so well to most adults. My foster parents were left handed. So when everyone held me, I guess it didn’t feel right. Well, my parents came to see me, my mother says when she saw me, and she knew immediately that I was supposed to be her child. =)

Now her being right handed, she picked me up, and I screamed! So my dad gave it a try, he was left handed, I guess I felt comfortable with him; he likes to say I chose them. I was nearly 3 months at the time I got to go home with them. Just in time to be home for my 1st Christmas.

I have the most beautiful card from my 1st mom (you will learn I hate adoption terminology). I cry when I think about it and I cry when I read it every time! She wishes me a Merry Christmas, and tells me that she loves me, I wish I had her hand writing, she calls me Baby Rachel, and even though it’s no longer my name, I connect with it only then. Maybe one day when I find her, since I have so many different nick names that can be “our” special thing.

Okay I’m drifting back to “my life story thus far”

I’ve always know I was adopted so there is no dramatic “when I found out story” and I guess I can’t stay that looking at my parents that I looked different, they are a biracial couple and I myself are biracial, my dads mother Grandma Deloris, she was mixed to so everyone said I looked like her. Lol!

Me being adopted is what I felt made me special! I was different and I loved it. As a kid that seemed to be what defined me. My mom would even make comments, "you know I bet you're just like your birth mother" refering to the fact that i'm kind of ADHA about finishing things! lol

You see I grew up being able to ask questions, and my mom would always answer them to the best of her ability.

When it came time to go over genetic traits in the 7th grade is when the questions really started. I remember the teacher saying, "For your assignment, I want you to go home and look at the physical traits that you have inheirted from your parents," that was the very 1st time I ever left like my "adoptee" status was holding me back....

I know this post is long and I'm sorry I will end here and post the rest of MY story at another time. Thank you for reading.