I'm a birthmother, but I'm not irresponsible I'm a birthmother, but I'm not a dropout I'm a birthmother, but I'm not on drugs I'm a birthmother, but I don't 'get around' I'm a birthmother, but I'm not a bad mom I'm a birthmother, but I'm not crazy I'm a birthmother, but I didn't abandon my baby I'm a birthmother, but I'm not a surrogate I'm a birthmother, but I'm not lazy I'm a birthmother, but I'm not unstable I'm a birthmother, and I am intelligent I'm a birthmother, and I am a mom I'm a birthmother, and I love my birth child I'm a birthmother, and a good example I'm a birthmother, and I grieve daily I'm a birthmother, and I am proud I'm a birthmother, and I am human I'm a birthmother, and I am strong.

I waited nine months to meet my daughter for the first time, and forty four years and nine months to see her again. On February 19, 1970, in the state of confusion, er, New Jersey, I gave birth to a girl. Though unmarried and unable to care for her, I actually wasn’t confused at all. I knew from the beginning that the only option for me was to give her to others to raise in a way I couldn’t at the time. Had I said ‘state of depression’, well, that would have been closer to the mark. Although I did what I felt I had to do, I lived with the consequences, day after year after decade. My heart was with her every day. I wished her happy birthday every year – I prayed she be happy and healthy. When she turned 18, I stopped thinking of her literally every day. I registered with the state and every organization I could find so that in the event she wanted to find me, the means were there. In 2004 I found and registered with Adoption.com, a website offering a host of services, including a forum for adoptees and birth families to reach out and connect. Every year that passed brought a decreasing sense of conviction that I would hold my daughter once more before my final breath. Then on July 4th, 2014, I received an email from another member of the forum who said, “Your birth daughter is looking for you but she is having trouble with her post. Please contact her . . . ” I logged onto Adoption.com right away, found her post and replied. She wrote back, “I think I’m your daughter – if you’re my other mother, please contact me. If not, just wish me luck . . .” She left an email address along with her phone numbers. As much as I wanted to grab the phone and call, I didn’t want to do so at a bad time so I emailed her first. Then came the phone call. We connected, and shared, and over four hours later, we ended the call. To paraphrase Kahlil Gibran, the gates of my heart were flung open and my heart flew. I even asked Rick if it was really happening. He said it was. But I thought, it feels so surreal. So unreal. Dreamlike. Like it’s happening to someone else. Like I’m not even in my body anymore. But it was real. We will meet, face-to-face, for the first time in forty four years and nine months, on Thanksgiving Day at my sister Laurie’s in St. Louis. Wish us well, and may the healing continue. (To be updated in December . . .) THE REST OF THE STORY (Added in December 2014) A message board friend wrote, “. . . I am happy to see you made it back safely from your once-in-a-life-time Thanksgiving trip.” I had just returned from St. Louis where I met my daughter for the first time since surrendering her for adoption over 44 years ago, and the term kept bouncing around in my head . . . “once-in-a-lifetime”. In the preceding weeks I couldn’t imagine what would happen when we would meet at last. What did happen in that magical (for me) moment? (Pregnant pause for effect) I took hold of Sandi and began to sob, holding my precious daughter and releasing years of fears and tears. We spent the next few days asking and revealing, listening and learning. Part of me was awed by this remarkably strong, compassionate woman and although I felt proud, I had no right to be. Her life and accomplishments are testimonials to the two loving spirits who nurtured and guided her, her mom and dad. Any doubts I’d harbored that I’d made the best decision for Sandi those many years ago, evaporated as she spoke. And then, I was amazed by what we had in common. We’d both been married four times, our third husbands being the really problematic ones. We both: – had a daughter, followed by two sons – enjoy rural life – have a strong dislike of shopping – don’t wear make up – like to travel and will go anywhere at the drop of a hat. Sandi has already realized two of my bucket-list dreams by visiting Ireland and Machu Picchu. Maybe I’ll follow in my daughter’s footsteps – had a son become an Eagle Scout – are strong proponents of organic gardening and are avidly against genetically altered foods – were hospice volunteers We’re both “wordies”, which I define as taking delight in the use of words; we are writers, pleased to share our published pieces. Even though Sandi is a Registered Nurse and my highest level was a Certified Nursing Assistant and Medical Aide, we have common fields/interests that have included in-home care, pediatrics, work with developmentally disabled and rehabilitation of those suffering from brain trauma. The old question of nature verses nurture arises and it would seem that we do possess a natural inclination toward some things, physical traits being only the tip of the iceberg. As far as nurture, well, I think it trumps nature and it turns out that my concern for Sandi’s well-being in the home in which she was placed was unnecessary. Her parents are two incredibly awesome individuals who did a magnificent job in raising Sandi. They have my eternal gratitude for the loving, supportive environment they provided for her. Special thanks to my sister Laurie for opening her heart and home to Sandi, me, Sandi’s husband John, and their friend Pat, who helped with the driving. We’re grateful for Laurie’s overwhelming hospitality. Well, we just wanted to share the rest of our story, our once-in-a-lifetime meeting and hopefully help bring together others in similar situations. Our message to you . . . When all seems lost, when something appears impossible, when there is no hope left, don’t give up!

Whether you're an adoptive parent or not... whether you're a foster parent or not.. you can invest in the future of adoption and foster care by taking a few actions with your children today. Some of these are subtle, but can help create a generation of children who decide that they will be the last generation to know what an orphan is in the world. Open Door Policy - be the household on the block where all the kids come and hang. Create an atmosphere where children are welcome -- not just the popular kids, but all kids. Your Children Are Important - be sure they know that each and every day. Some parents dismiss kids in important conversations. Take the time to value what your children have to say and let them know that you don't discount their opinions just because of their age. Be a Global Parent - It's not easy for whole families to travel around the world, but travel (on any scale) broadens the mind. Expose your family to new ideas about the world. Plan family time once a month to watch a documentary (please... no reality shows) on a different culture. If you do get a chance to travel, take a look at a few cultural highlights on the way to Disney. Use these experiences to engage your children on what it's like to live in another culture or a different part of the world. Read - If you read, they read. It's a basic formula. Try picking up a book on a different culture and use it for discussions around the dinner table. Find books for your kids on different cultures - age appropriate of course. As a kid, one of my favorite books was "Island Boy" about a young boy growing up in Hawaii. I found the culture fascinating. Compassion - Be a parent of compassion for other children. Support a child or a program in a different part of the world. It could just be $10 a month! But imagine the difference it makes in the life of a child in another country. And over time, see what a difference it makes in the lives of your own children. Get them involved in learning about the culture or cultures your favorite charity represents. I'm biased, of course, but Orphan World Relief would be a great starting point! Regardless, involve your children in the decision and be sure that when you write the check each month, you talk about it as a family and engage with your own children about something they've learned about another culture. Involve Children in Supporting Causes - Find a cause locally or internationally you believe in and work with your children to make a difference. Do an annual garage sale and give the money to a charity of your children's choosing supporting kids (locally or globally). Have them come up with their own ideas of how they can support a cause. Learn a Language - Enroll the family in a language course where you can learn together (don't be too concerned if your kids do better than you). Connecting with another language helps connect you with a different culture. The younger your children are exposed to languages, the easier it will be for them to learn languages later in life when they need to in high school or college. Eat food from other Cultures - Even if it's just grabbing tacos, take the time to engage with the food of another culture. Try and find a local restaurant and not a chain with people working their from other cultures. It's probably easier than you may think! Research the food. Learn where it comes from and talk with your children about ways you can make it at home. Talk with Your Children - Every idea has one central theme: conversation. Engage your children in conversation... talk about other people groups. Help your kids talk about the differences and similarities of others. Try to help them become better world travelers by calling out things that don't make sense in our own culture as "different" rather than passing judgement by saying something is "stupid". Pose questions to your children to help them think through why something might be the way it is... and then research the truth! Volunteer with Others Less Fortunate - There will always be children who need a mentor. Sign up to be a big brother or a big sister. Spend time with your nieces and nephews. Help a single parent out at Church by befriending them and their children. Even if you do all of these things, there are no guarantees that your kids will decide to adopt or foster other children. They learn by what you do. Consider making room for one more child in your home through adoption. But even if you cannot adopt, you can help prepare your children to be better world citizens by following some of these simple ideas. It doesn't cost anything but time and a little creativity. Be a global hero to your children by making them global heroes in their own right. More blog posts about orphans, adoption and life: https://www.linkedin.com/in/dougriggle/detail/recent-activity/posts/

My motto since I had baby R is "I am birth mom strong". Placing her was truly the hardest thing I have ever done, and likely the hardest thing I will ever do (knock on wood). That experience was, in a way, a crucible. It shattered me. And then it built me, refined me, made me the person I am today. Every time something hard comes up I remind myself that I am birth mom strong. Today I was about to take off on the long road trip back to college, and my car broke down. It's not going to recover. I have to be at school in a few days and I have no idea how I'm going to do it. There's no way I can pay for this right now. I stressed and I cried and I worried... but then I remembered that I am birth mom strong. The trials I am going through right now pale in comparison to what I've already been through. I was pregnant and young and I didn't know what to do but I figured it out. This doesn't hurt nearly as much as that did. It was hard and still is, but I managed. Because of that experience, I am a better woman. I am tough, and I always find a way. Being a birth mother gives me comfort. I am more secure in myself because I know I can do hard things. I hold myself to higher standards. I try to accept hardships head on with grace, because I want my birth daughter to know that she can do hard things, too. I hope that one day she wants to be like me. I won't let her down. I can't always be strong for myself, but I can be strong for her. It's amazing how much sunshine one little child can bring so many people. I know she motivates me to be strong, and I know she motivates her parents to be the very best they can be. Such a special little girl deserves all the love in the world, and she deserves people who try their very hardest to make her happy. Even on hard days like this, even when I haven't seen her, to know she is out there being well loved and cared for gives me strength. I will see her again soon. I will be birth mom strong. For her.

I still can’t even believe everything that can happen in six months! My husband, Nate and I walked into an adoption agency in August of 2016 and began the process to become adoptive parents! We were so excited and we already felt so much love for the little one that is meant to be in our family. Some wondered how we came to the decision to adopt so quickly, but to be honest with you, this is something Nate and I have planned on doing since before we were even married. When Nate and I were dating and discussing what we wanted for our future, I told him I wanted to adopt. He eagerly jumped on board and that was the very first step to get to where we are!

[img]https://adoption.com/community/PF.Base/file/attachment/2017/05/a7d125982b7c8e74dee3e2e357790d6f_view.jpg[/img] I have a story to tell. It’s not a short one, but this is the beginning. I’m the inquisitive type. Stubborn. Both emotional and logical. At three days old I met my parents. My father wore a blue suit with a yellow tie. My mother laid me on her stomach in the hotel room and I smiled up at her when her tummy rumbled. She always said, “You may not have grown under my heart, but you grew in it.” I knew that I was loved. Always. A few times in elementary school I was teased about being adopted. “Your mom must not have loved you. That’s why she gave you up. That’s why nobody likes you.” It never bothered me. I laughed at them. My mom always made sure my brother and I knew that we were chosen. We were never mistakes. They prayed for us for years. That never stopped me from being curious. Where did I come from? What was my story? Did I look like someone out there? Do I have biological siblings? What’s the strength of nature vs. nurture? Did she care about me? Did she want to meet me? She’s like me, I know it. She’ll want to meet me. Prepare for the worst. Protect your heart. She might not be what you think. She may not want you. She might be a drug addict. She might be dead. She’s not your family. You have a family. Family doesn’t have to be blood. Family is a bond. Where does she live? I love you, daddy. I love you, mommy. You are my angels. Thank you for this life. Thank you for everything. Thank you for picking me. Thank you for loving me, even when I don’t deserve your pureness. I love you. Do you know how much I love you? Does she have my eyes? Does she want to meet me? Read More: https://sarahfittravels.wordpress.com/2017/04/28/adopted/?frame-nonce=d2d521d219

“I was so afraid of being seen as imperfect. What happens to imperfect things? They get sent back…” The above words were my reference of thought for much of my childhood life: you better be perfect or you might get sent back to foster care. I can recall, as a little girl, the panic I felt each time my adoptive mother would leave the house. I was certain that my foster care giver, in England, would come to America to get me while mom was away. Mom would surely have learned what I already knew — that I wasn’t her perfect girl — and I’d be returned to the place from where I came. Adoption may seem like a simple equation: a child needs a family and a family longs for a child. The process of adoption serves as the cement that fills this gap between need and longing. Only, the cement that fills the gap in an adoptive parent’s life can be the very binder that leaves a gaping whole in the adoptee’s life. This contrast is difficult for many people to understand. I’m not every adoptee and my thoughts don’t represent the whole. However, I do want to offer what I believe are ten important needs that many adoptees have in common and, therefore, would want you to know about. You see, adoptees hold a wealth of wisdom on family, love, relationship, identity, pain and healing. We’re just beginning to allow this wisdom the light it deserves. Read about the 10 needs adoptees have, here: http://michellemadridbranch.com/10-needs-adoptees-want-you-to-know/ [img]https://adoption.com/community/PF.Base/file/attachment/2017/12/1d5c86231047db75c4cfef4f611c480b_view.jpg[/img]

I’m an international adoptee. I’m also the parent of two children delivered into my life via adoption from Russia and Ethiopia. We’re an international family created through adoption. We love each other and we have so much fun together. We are also Americans; immigrants to the U.S. and citizens by naturalization. We contribute and we serve this nation, our community, our family, and our friends. Recently, I read a staggering statistic: International adoption by Americans has declined by 81% since 2004. And, crippling new policies and practices are projected to completely end international adoption within the next five years. (How to Solve the U.S. International Adoption Crisis, by Nathan Gwilliam, Ron Stoddart, Robin Sizemore, and Tom Velie, adoption.com, March 19, 2018) I couldn’t believe my eyes! Is international adoption really in danger of ending for Americans by 2022? If so, how have we arrived at this dark hour? Furthermore, who are we as a country if we are willing to risk the possibility that orphaned children around the world might not have a place to call home, in America? UNICEF estimates that 15.1 million orphans around the world have lost both of their parents. According to the adoption.com article that I noted above, “International adoptions by U.S. adoptive parents decreased from 22,989 in 2004 to 5,370 in 2016. We believe international adoptions dropped to about 4,600 in 2017 (although the 2017 total has not yet been publicly released). The director of IAAME, the new Accrediting Entity, stated they are working under an assumption of only 4,200 intercountry adoptions in 2018. This is an 81% decline in international adoptions by Americans. If this trend line continues, international adoptions will completely end by 2022.” Why is this happening? Let me quote another leading voice in the adoption community, Former United States Senator and former Co-Chair of the Congressional Coalition on Adoption, Mary Landrieu, who recently said, “Congress passed the Hague Convention on Intercountry Adoption believing that this action would pave the way for a more ethical, transparent and streamlined process for inter-country adoption… Sadly, several years later, it is clear that this decision was a tragic mistake. Instead of shoring up the process and providing support for sending countries, the State Department has twisted the intent of the treaty to close one country after another. The process has become far more cumbersome and far less transparent. American parents who want to help and lovingly raise a child are often made to feel like criminals. As a result, intercountry adoptions have fallen to an historic low, and they continue to decrease each year as the need of desperate, abandoned, and orphaned children increases. Major change is required now before it’s too late.” The Office of Children’s Issues (OCI) says that they are implementing a “re-interpretation of adoption regulations” in order to protect children from child trafficking. Yet, within this push to re-interpret policies and practices, is the OCI ignoring the negative impact on the children who were not able to be adopted into loving and permanent families? Read the full article: http://michellemadridbranch.com/saving-international-adoption/ [img]https://adoption.com/community/PF.Base/file/attachment/2018/03/f6e0910d1c4d8894a760db50aa9c348f_view.jpg[/img]

My name is Annabelle Wadsworth Duncan I was born December 24, 2000 in Primorsky Krai, Vladivostok Russia. I was adopted in 2003 by my parents Doug and Elizabeth Duncan. I think my birth name was Valaria. Please help me find them if or If anyone knows who could be my birth parents please contact me. I have been trying to look up adoption places in Vladivostok and see if any of them look like the ones in the back of some of my photos. I do not know their names. Please help. [img]https://adoption.com/community/PF.Base/file/attachment/2021/01/f81d062286a1577aa7f7be7cbc20da04_view.jpeg[/img]pictures. *The first photo is of me a my mom(one who adopted me) at the orphanage in Vladivostok. I do not know what orphanage this is so if someone can tell from the background please contact me. Here are 2 photos of me as a baby [img]https://adoption.com/community/PF.Base/file/attachment/2021/01/1a5af176fcea2acbc214f60d358ff052_view.jpeg[/img] [img]https://adoption.com/community/PF.Base/file/attachment/2021/01/1772893fed9908e260c58ee011c988bd_view.jpeg[/img] And here is a photo of me now [img]https://adoption.com/community/PF.Base/file/attachment/2021/01/2bc91d3989ad0298e57fe99c6e3db8ae_view.jpeg[/img]

Please help us. Long story short, we adopted our son last April. We fostered him since he was 7 weeks old when we got the call that he was in the hospital with sbs. They didn't think he would make it. Since we adopted his older sister that's why they called us. Honestly, he is a miracle baby. He does have delays, ex: not walking and will be two in feb, didnt crawl till he was about 15 months old and he actually still doesn't crawl he hops like a frog. He's not had any seizures and had a shunt in until about 5 months ago. His sister does have some delays. My question is, have you had any experience with a child or heard of a child with a TBI caused by sbs having anger issues. He throws a fit and or cries about 85% of the day.

Today I was with a friend and she asked me if she could ask me questions about adoption. She shared with me about how she fears adoption because she hates the thought about the deep loss. The tragic, traumatic, grief that is all encompassing. We talked about how I am constantly looking at my son and thinking about his birth mama and wondering how it will impact him as he grows. And about how much pain is all-encompassed in adoption. How its hard to just fully feel only joy regarding him, because loss is wrapped up so much in his identity and story and history. We talked about how we cannot imagine being strong and brave enough to say, "I am not in a place I want to be, to parent my child," and place them into another mamas arms. We talked about how openness helps with all of us -- that as my son grows, him knowing his bio mom will hopefully be nothing but a blessing to him. It was very emotional and very raw and I wish more prospective adoptive parents held this perspective...the balance of grief and joy, loss and gain, the goodness in openness.

[img]https://adoption.com/community/PF.Base/file/attachment/2017/02/a6be241a1245812cc5ae144ba890b6b1_view.jpg[/img] I told myself I wasn't going to reach out to them. As I looked at their names, I reminded myself that the whole point of getting my original birth certificate was to learn my identity and do some genealogy. Now that I had names, I could figure out my ethnicity and have a lot of questions answered. It didn't make sense to reach out to these people who---most likely---wouldn't want a relationship with me. But something Mary----my birthmother---had said in a letter to me all those years ago, kept echoing in my head: "My middle son is very excited to meet you someday". She explained that she didn't have much contact with her other two children, but that this particular son knew about me and apparently was at least somewhat pleased about my existence. It took me about 2 weeks of thinking it through, and wondering if I could cope emotionally with being told again that I was not welcome in someone's life. When I finally decided to take my chances, I sat down and wrote a letter to my brother---Don. I must have written about 7 different drafts, showing each one to my ever supportive husband, who finally deemed the last one "not overly emotional or rambling". With the support of a dear girlfriend who had been cheering me on through this journey, I finally worked up the courage to put the letter in the outgoing mail, and prepared myself for a less than positive response. It was almost a week later, while I was I on vacation with friends, that I received one of the best emails I've ever read: "I'm so happy you found us...we have so much catching up to do.....can I call you?" Within days, I had spoken with both of my brothers, Don and Ron, on the phone, and had exchanged emails with big sister Ava. I don't mind telling you that I was thrilled to learn all three have a wonderful sense of humor, and of course, most amazing of all.....they have welcomed me with open arms. It's as if my appearance has been completely natural to them. I honestly have been so touched by their kindness that it has more than made up for the sadness I felt so many years ago when 'our' mother chose to stop contact with me. The outcome has been better than I could have ever hoped for. Mary is not yet aware that we are in touch with each other......Because her contact with her kids is infrequent, I am leaving it up to their discretion if or when they want to share that information with her. In the meantime, I have spent the past few months feeling more "whole" in my heart than I ever have in my life. Pieces that were missing are finally being put in place. And as wonderful as its been, something else amazing is about to happen...... I'm meeting Ava face to face this weekend. http://simplysnarky.blogspot.com/2016/12/i-told-myself-i-wasnt-going-to-out-to.html

A research study at Temple University is investigating connections between language and memory in individuals who experienced a change from their native to another language. If you were adopted from a Russian-speaking country after the age of 6, you are invited to participate in this research study where you will be asked to describe events. Your participation will contribute to the body of knowledge and help international adoptees worldwide. You do not need to speak Russian in order to participate. Your time will be compensated $20 per session (total of $40 for 2 sessions). Must be between 18-30 years of age in order to participate. On-line interviews are available, so no travel is required. Please fill out this brief questionnaire in order for us to determine your eligibility. https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/BC378ZZ

[img]https://adoption.com/community/PF.Base/file/attachment/2017/04/8110e59dc12356223f7fb0660d87bf1f_view.jpg[/img] "They saved my life. And when you adopt a teenager, 90% of the time you will be saving their life." - Katie Goudge, adopted at 15. After spending 20 years of his 21 years of life "in the system," Noel Anaya shared his story on NPR's Youth Radio. He began his story with a heartbreaking statement: "Walking into court for my very last time as a foster youth, I feel like I'm getting a divorce from a system that I've been in a relationship with almost my entire life. It's bittersweet because I'm losing guaranteed stipends for food and housing, as well as access to my social workers and my lawyer. But on the other hand, I'm relieved to finally get away from a system that ultimately failed me on it's biggest promise: That one day it would find me a family who would love me." Ouch. Noel continued with his story, saying, "I use 'gray hands' to describe the foster care system, because it never felt warm or human. It's institutional. Opposite the sort of unconditional love I imagine that parents try to show their kids. In an idea world, being a foster kid is supposed to be temporary. When it's stable and appropriate, the preference is to reunite kids with their parents or family members. Adoption is the next best option. I used to dream of it. Having a mom and dad, siblings to play with . . . a dog. But when I hit 12, I realized that I was getting old. That adoption probably would never happen for me." Noel's articulate description of what his childhood was like, and particularly the loss of his dream of being adopted, provides a poignant insight into the lives of thousands of teens across the country (and in orphanages worldwide) who are growing up without a family. And it underscores a painful truth: Teens available for adoption only have a 5% chance of actually being placed with a forever family. That means of 100 kids hoping to be a part of a family, only 5 will currently see that dream come to pass . . . and 95 will "age out" and embark on adult life alone, untethered by the love and stability of a family. I've watched a lot of Wednesday's Child features introducing teens who are hoping to be adopted. Sometimes while I'm watching them, the reality of children living without families hits me hard. It hits especially when they say things like this: -"Why do I want a family? Family is basically everything." "I want to just say to people if you don't have a kid, here is a kid for you who is respectful and who is honest." "I've never really had a family. I just know it from the movies." In 2013 a 14-year-old boy named Davion Only stood up in church and begged for someone to adopt him. He told the congregation, "My name is Davion and I've been in foster care since I was born. I know God hasn't given up on me, so I'm not giving up either. I'll take anyone. Old or young, dad or mom, black, white, purple. I don't care. And I would be really appreciative. The best I could be." These are the voices of children. Children pleading for love. Children who have been through tremendous challenges. Children who have experienced unthinkable tragedy. Children who just want someone who loves them - no matter what. Someone they can rely on - through thick and thin. They shouldn't have to beg for this. They shouldn't have to do video features. They shouldn't have to perform at adoption camps, or stand up at church and ask for a family. Have they outgrown chubby cheeks? Yes. Will adopting a teen be rough? Undoubtedly. But these kids didn't ask to be born to parents who would ultimately not be able to care for them. They didn't ask to be neglected or abused. They didn't ask to be shuffled from home to home. They weren't ready for these heavy experiences. But they happened to them anyway. And now we are given the opportunity to open our homes and help them overcome. To encourage them. To provide them with love and stability, hope and encouragement, limits and consistency, patience and compassion. Each of these kids is of infinite worth, and even though they're no longer tiny and chubby cheeked, they still need love. They still need to be held. They still need to be taught and encouraged. I get that it's scary. It's a big unknown. You worry how adopting will affect your other kids. You wonder if you've got what it takes to parent a kid who has been through so much. These are my own worries. I haven't adopted a teen, and I'm not sure if I'm courageous enough to take the plunge. But it's something I'm seriously considering - because these are whole human beings we're talking about. They shouldn't be brushed off with a quick, "I can't do that," or "Too much baggage." Teen adoption is worth thinking about. REALLY thinking about.

Two years and two months ago, my life changed forever. I went from an angsty 17-year-old girl to an adult with big responsibilities in about five seconds. I had big decisions to make that would change the lives of many. This day was the beginning of a journey that led me through deep, intense pain and grief- as well as through periods of tremendous growth and happiness. I am a birth mom and this is my story. January 2015 was full of promise. I had just graduated high school a semester early and moved out of my parents home to a small town about 500 miles away. I was living all by myself, in my very own apartment, making money and preparing for college the next semester. I had never felt so free and independent. Independence meant responsibility, but I hadn't learned that yet. I felt invincible, immune to consequences because my parents weren't around to enforce them. I was also scared and lonely out on my own for the very first time. So I fell into the arms of the boy next door. We had grown up in the same neighborhood, but I hadn't seen him in years. We reconnected over boxes in my basement apartment. Ryan* was too old for me. But it didn't matter, he made things feel safe and familiar. I thought he would always be around to take care of me. Within a few short weeks, he told me he cared for me, that he wanted to marry me and buy me a house so I could plant daffodils in our front yard. Everything was perfect. Then in February 2015, something felt different. I insisted that Ryan bring me a pregnancy test, even though I wasn't late yet. He held my hand in the bathroom as we waited. I was right- two bright pink lines. We were so excited. We had each other, and a new baby, and Ryan would be there to provide. We started working on a budget and looking at apartments together. We even went to a bridal faire to plan for what we jokingly called our "shotgun wedding". I was going to have my own little family, something I had wanted since I was a little girl. I was living my dream.- it lasted four days. *names have been changed to protect identity[img]https://adoption.com/community/PF.Base/file/attachment/2017/04/a9540fa27d21e546b9e836a4ee5ba969_view.jpg[/img]

apologize, but I have to be necessarily brief ... I leave you to imagine the details! In my book, The Rabbit Culture the story remains outstanding with my son who has many problems of integration. Because of the trauma of abandonment, and of his behavior, psychologists have recognized him as suffering from paranoid schizophrenia borderline; apparently looks like a normal person, but it is as if he traveled on a razor's edge. But the story continues ... .. About five years ago, he decided to go to Romania to find his birth mother. Beeing convinced me, after this experience, that the best type of adoption is that of the "Open Adoption", I accompanied him and we went together to Timishoara. You can imagine the atmosphere ... .that of a journey full of unknowns and unforeseens! In Timishoara we rented a car , to go to Bretea Streuloi where was his orphanage. During the trip he was pretty quiet and happy to see, after twenty years, the places familiar to him. We found with difficulty the orphanage, [img]https://adoption.com/community/PF.Base/file/attachment/2017/04/72a73f6a9aa51560872df985f268b862_view.jpg[/img] but to our surprise, there were no more children, had been converted into accommodation for the disabled and disinherited people. There were a dozen of adult boys, and a lady who ran the complex with a boy; My son watched him ... and they recognized each other ! As kids, they were together in that orphanage ... obviously ... hugs and kisses, and while they told their stories, I took the opportunity to ask questions about how we could find his mother. Unfortunately, the lady told me, that being dead the director who ran the orphanage, the only option was to ask the municipal police of the town of Petrosani, where he was born. We departed together for Petrosani, and we stayed in a hotel in the center of the city along with his friend; the next day, he would accompany us to the district of the municipal police to ask questions. The next morning, we went to the District; there were many people waiting, and my son and his friend, came in to ask questions. I remained out; despite the situation, I was optimistic. But ... when came out, my son came to me, and in a weak voice said to me: my mother is dead ... and has been crying non-stop for thirty seconds. I embraced him trying to comfort him, and he, taking note of the stark reality, stopped crying and has expressed the desire to go to the cemetery to bring her a bunch of flowers ... if ever we would be able to find her grave. The cemetery was large enough [img]https://adoption.com/community/PF.Base/file/attachment/2017/04/2637b9dd915c9c40f244d3000edfbeab_view.jpg[/img] We have searched for over an hour, but we did not find the grave of his mother. More than a third of the graves were unnamed, and in the end, we left the bouquet of flowers on a grave with no name, however, catered for the symbolic gesture! We departed to Timishoara, in order to take the next morning, the flight to return to Italy. Paradoxically, we were both more confident. Is doubt, uncertainty that create anxiety! When the reality is clear and obvious ... you start over. But in my mind, followed each other thoughts and considerations that I had already done, that suddenly appeared to me, in all their clarity: No condition of indigence or poverty justifies the abandonment of a child. As far as my own experience is concerned I am sure that a child would rather die of starvation or get to know that his parents are in prison, but they did not abandoned him. [img]https://adoption.com/community/PF.Base/file/attachment/2017/04/c04c6d9f98a244d64c55c6a9eca781d1_view.jpg[/img] If genocide is a crime against humanity, the abandonment of a child is much more, it calls into question the first ethical principle for our survival: a mother who abandons a child. Animals do not do that, or do so only if the little ones are naturally self-sufficient by birth. It is an everlasting torture and I am sure that my son is wondering – in his own confusion – why he did not get what many people were granted. While I was driving, at some point, seeing me absorbed in my thoughts, he asked me: "Are you worried? Anyway ... dear father, I think you're a saint! "I looked at almost smiling; and he, knowing that I do not love the Pope and the Saints ... said: "Correction ... a secular saint." I have never received a better compliment in my life! In the evening, in Timishoara, we went to a pub and we nearly got drunk, to face the night with a well deserved rest. But ....! Six months later, my son decided, against my advice, to return to Romania. He was not convinced of the version that the police had provided for the death of his mother. He 's back in the orphanage, and the lady who owns the structure, not knowing what to do, called the local police. The police, naively, seeing his original birth certificate [img]https://adoption.com/community/PF.Base/file/attachment/2017/04/28e0f6055e12a3f9ebfa1db78ed1cd99_view.jpg[/img] accompanied him to his mother who was alive and well, but in conditions of poverty. I can only imagine their meeting ... .aniway, surely, his behavior has improved, and tries to help his birth mother by any means. So if by chance, you buy my book or make a donation, you can be assured that every penny will be used for their survival when I am gone…! Fre ebook : http://www.therabbitculture.com/free-ebook-read-it-give-it-a-value-and-donate/

Before I became a part of the adoption community, I had an interest in adoption. I loved to read blogs about adoption and sometimes I would even peruse adoptive parent profiles, just for fun. I remember reading a blog one time in which an adoptive mom remarked that now that she had adopted a Marshalese child, they had become a multicultural family. I remember thinking that was the weirdest thing. My thought was, "No you're not. She's a baby. She'll just adapt to your family's culture." I truly didn't understand what she was even really meant by that. I could see saying that they were a multiracial family - but multicultural? That didn't make sense. Along those lines, I always thought it was a little weird when adopted people looked for their birth parents. "You already have a family," I'd think to myself. "Why are you looking for more?" Fast forward several years later, however, and now these two ideas have come into sharp focus in my mind. As I have listened to adoptees talk about their adoption experiences, I have come to realize that biological connections and cultural roots are much more powerful than I'd ever given them credit for. Now when I interact with people at family gatherings - and extended family gatherings - I realize what a comfort it is to be surrounded by people who look like me, who have similar quirks to me, who share the same grandparents and great-grandparents and great-great grandparents. There is something very powerful and grounding about knowing WHERE you came from and WHO you came from. When a child is adopted into a family, they still carry their birth families in every cell of their bodies. This isn't to say that there isn't a power in the family that they were adopted into - the child will become a part of that family, integrated by love and shared experiences and the daily weaving of being together - but now I understand how important it is for adoptees to have access to and experiences with the biological roots that shape them just as powerfully.

One of the most frequently asked questions I get from new birth moms is "Will the grief ever end?" I would like to tell them yes, but it won't. Grief is the price you pay for love. As long as you love your birth child you will grieve. There will be anger, denial, depression, bargaining, and acceptance in phases for the rest of your life. The hurt in your grief will spread out and become more infrequent, but it will still come. Some days you won't expect it. I thought I was doing really well as far as coping with my adoption, and I hadn't hurt about it for a long time. I can see photos of her and smile because I'm so proud of her and the choice I made. I can visit her and love her and go home happy. But then yesterday I saw a photo of my birth daughter and the pain hit me like a brick again. I can't tell you why, but instantly I doubled over in pain because it hurt so much to not have her. She's two years old but she'll always be my baby. All I could do for a solid hour was cry and say "I want my baby.... I miss my baby". But it passed. I got through it. Today I am okay. I can push through the pain and refocus on the joy in my adoption. No, the grief will never end. But you learn to manage it. You learn to gain more joy than pain. You learn to soldier through because you're birth mom strong.

I am an adoptee. I am completely supportive of adoption. Every person and every situation is different. I may not understand the reasons one decides to place a child for adoption, but I always support the decision. I could never place a child. I am selfish when it comes to my kids. I was not in a good position financially when I had either of them. I have never been able to give them all the things that they asked for or take them all the places they wanted to go. That aside, I have always felt I am the best person to raise them. I don't feel like anyone can love them, take care of them, or protect them the way I can because I am their mother. I recognize that is not always the case. I respect other people's choices not to parent. Despite my feelings as a mother I believe there is a tremendous amount of strength on adoption. The thought of taking a person who was physically attached to me for nine months and passing them to someone else is unbearable to me. In that position, that act would break me. It would end me. There would be no way to repair the shattered pieces of my former self. For those in open adoption, to see that child again and again would be like a knife stabbing me in the chest with every breath. I don't know where you find the strength, but I'm glad you do. For the parents who adopt, it must take great courage and confidence to raise a child who starts off as a stranger to you. I don't even like other people's children that much. I can't imagine moving one in and giving him or her the same love and affection as a biological child. Yet I know that you do because I was that child. It's not a charade or facade. It's real because I felt it. In recent years I have read too many stories of adoption wrapped in trauma and loss. What we need more of are tales of everyday people sporting invisible capes. I see you. No, adoptees should not be obligated to "give thanks" to their adoptive parents. They should feel thankful though. Adoption shouldn't be about sadness or emotional injuries. Adoption is about love and life and family.

What I am about to say does not mean that I don’t love adoption. I love it. I will always advocate for it. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that placing my baby for adoption was the right thing to do. Except when I don’t. Because there is so much pain in my heart that I have not allowed myself to process. I am an advocate for adoption, I shouldn’t be so messed up about it. People look up to me. I get messages from strangers all the time, thanking me for being so open about my story, telling me how it has helped them on their adoption journey. My work in adoption has been incredibly rewarding, and I love it so much. In some ways, I feel like a spokesperson for adoption. But right now I’m recognizing that I’ve been lying to myself. I hurt. Every day. There are moments, especially at family events or when it’s quiet in the evening that I can picture so perfectly what it would be like to be a parent. I want to watch my little girl play with her cousins, and hold her in my lap when she gets tired or scared. But I don’t even know what she did today. I don’t know what new words she’s learning, or her favorite things to do. I can’t explain how hard it is to have such an incredible bond with someone, but to be so far away. When I visit my birth daughter, I feel a connection. We love each other so, so much. And the cost of that bond and that love mean that every time I have to say goodbye my heart breaks all over again. Love shouldn’t hurt, I’ve always said that that quote was unhealthy… but this love hurts. Fierce love equals fierce pain and sacrifice sometimes. I feel so guilty for feeling this way. I shouldn’t regret it. She has the most amazing life with the most amazing family. She has a beautiful home and she’ll never want for anything. She is so much happier with them than she would be with me, all by ourselves in my crappy apartment. I can’t give her all the stimulation she needs to reach her full potential. It’s better this way, and I know that. But sometimes I just want to hold my baby. I want to be her mama. I wish I had been good enough to be her mom. I wish her birth father had been kind. I wish I hadn’t been so young and angry and confused. I wish I had the money to provide for her. I get tired of reminding myself that it wasn’t my fault, I had been through so much and I didn’t know how to say no. I didn’t know how to be a mom at that point. I keep trying to shut off the shoulda woulda couldas but sometimes I just have to feel them. I feel selfish. I should never even think about how much better it would have been for me emotionally to parent. I feel like I’m betraying her adoptive parents (whom I love) whenever I think of her as mine. It should always be about her, and if she’s happy I should be happy. If other people look up to me I should be happy. I am supposed to be birth mom strong. I am supposed to encourage and lift others. There is a difference between focusing on the positive and completely shutting out the negative. That’s what I’ve been doing. I went in to see my case worker the other day. I told her I was doing well, that I’d had a few bad days but that I understood why and that I handled them, so I was fine. I didn’t really need to be there talking to her, I didn’t need help. The only reason I came in is because my psychiatrist thought I had borderline personality, but another one thought I was bipolar. Neither of them felt quite right to me. She ever so gently suggested that maybe I was holding back some feelings. Maybe it’s neither of those. Maybe I just have trauma from the adoption and before that manifests itself regardless of whether I know that’s what it is. Maybe I’m not as ‘fine’ as I say I am. That gentle suggestion unleashed the dam of emotion that I had been keeping inside for the sake of being strong. I sobbed for the first time in a year about how much I hate being a birth mom some days. I just want to be a normal college student, or a normal mom, but instead I’m stuck in the middle and all kinds of heartbroken. It’s time for me to acknowledge my grief. Here is where normally I would put a positive spin on it, and say that it’s all worth it in the end because I did the right thing for her. But this time I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to talk about how I’ll ride it out and be okay and come out stronger. It’s true, but I need to accept that I’m going through something in order to even begin to make real progress. So I’m just going to say that this hurts.

If there is one thing I know for sure, it’s this: the adoption community is a healthier one when its experiences and stories are shared out loud. We’ve learned, over many years, that silencing the voices and perceptions of those within our community will never help to forge deeper levels of understanding and inclusion. What was once thought as a healthy choice: distancing adoptees from the truth of their birth stories, is now known to be of great disadvantage to their overall well-being. We’ve learned the importance of supporting and hearing all members of the adoption triad. We’ve arrived to an empowering place within the adoption conversation as we speak this declaration: the adoption community will no longer be treated as a secret society. Every member of this community — adoptee, adoptive parent, and birth parent — has a story that needs to be heard. We’re standing up, speaking up, and sharing truths that were once kept in the shadows. It’s a brand new day! I have launched a new Facebook group called, Adoption Out Loud. This group exists as a channel of communication for all those touched by adoption. No matter the experience, or point of view, there is a place for everyone here. Adoption Out Loud represents a safe space and an opportunity to expand our community’s ability to understand and to be understood. When we share our voices, authentically and respectfully, we heal and we grow. Join here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/365091660591515/ [img]https://adoption.com/community/PF.Base/file/attachment/2018/01/e066bd989d75ad921112aa872daf9481_view.png[/img]

Hello I am currently 22...I was adopted from Russia when I was a year and a half! I would really like to find my birth parents!! Any suggestions or people I could call?! Thanks

I am an explorer. As an adoptee, I have explored the depths of my soul to find a meaning to the earliest parts of my history. I have ventured out, and within, to seek unknown parts of myself. I have tracked many a mile to uncover my identity and to dismantle the titles given to me by others. Titles that did not serve me in a positive life outcome. I believe that all adoptees are explorers. In some way, we are all searching, seeking, and looking for answers to who we are and why we’re here. We’re trackers of truth. At some moment in our lives, a severing took place that catapulted us into a situation we had no control over. Free falling — or so it seemed — we landed into lives that we were not born of, but were destined for. Earlier worlds unravel and somewhere in our distant minds, our first families are kept as a memory. Reunion, or the thought of reunification, gets stored in a mental file called fantasy. A place where we probe the “what if” of someday reconnecting with birth family. Sometimes, fantasy becomes reality and we find ourselves face-to-face with that unraveled world. A world that — on some level — unnerves us and, at the same time, delights our senses. Might someone, connected to us by DNA, offer us the gift of coloring in all those pieces of ourselves left blank? Could members of our birth family fill in the holes within us left hollow by abandonment? Secretly, we hope so. And, quietly, we pray. I did. I prayed, and I hoped. For years, I wanted someone to help me understand the mystery of my story — a mystery that held me distant from myself. Therefore, I put much stock into the idea of a reunion as a vehicle to aide me in arriving at my truth. And, so I wrote a letter while in my teens. It was addressed to my birthmother in England. I did not have her physical address — only her name. I sent the letter to the main office of the Royal Air Force, where I knew that my mum’s husband once served. The letter began something like this: If you have opened this envelope, I want to say thank you. If you are reading my words, I want you to promise not to throw this letter away. You see, I need an angel right now… I went on to briefly explain my situation and the story of my earliest life. I wrote how desperately I needed to find my birthmother in order to reunite and, as was my prayer, to heal what had been broken inside. Read more: http://michellemadridbranch.com/reuniting-worlds-one-adoptees-thoughts-on-birth-family-reunification/ [img]https://adoption.com/community/PF.Base/file/attachment/2018/02/49a3eb61bc69e5de238f5f965e9e11bc_view.jpg[/img]

Hello, I was given up for adoption 61 years ago. NYS just made it a law that we can obtain our pre-adoption birth certificate. Based on this I found my birthmother but I don't know how to approach her. Not sure what to say. Help

This is my first time writing in this forum and my first attempt to verbalise what I'm feeling so please bear with me.. I am 36 and was placed in my adoptive home shortly after my 4th birthday and have always known and 'understood' the reasons for my adoption. After years of internal struggle, anxiety and depression I finally decided to actively find my biological parents and got my file from my local authority who handled my adoption. Fast forward a year and I actually stumbled across my half-sibling on Facebook which led to make contact with my only full sibling (I wasn't aware I had a full sibling) and another half sibling and both my biological parents. Some might say jackpot! After really positive reunions with all I looked forward to building relationships with them all, however after the initial meeting both parents have withdrawn. I have since developed an irrational anger, I understand having read my file, and spoken to my siblings, and in part to my biological parents about what happened. But I have this sense that I have been rejected again by them. I understand that they were unable to be parents when I was born, and I get they are still not able to be parents but I can't help the feeling that they should step up a bit more. I'm their child for all their declarations that they wanted me, loved me and wish that they had known me as a child etc etc but they just can't seem to think of me first. I'm a parent myself and I would give me last breath to protect my children or to tell them I loved them that last time. But even as grown adults 30+ years later they cant see past themselves. I know I should be grateful I had a wonderful childhood, an amazing husband and 2 beautiful children but why can't I shift this soul crushing anger and hurt? I want to move on, deal with the fact they don't want to be active in my life etc but it hurts, its like I wasn't enough to fight for as a child and I'm still not enough for them.. Am I stupid? Will I ever be able to just move past this? I find it hard to verbalise how I feel to my family, I try and my hubby almost gets it but there is just this sense that they just don't get it, am I making too much of this or am I justified in my feelings? I want to feel something other than deep routed anger, I feel I constantly have to squash the feeling down in fear it will all come out and people will look at me like I am mad! ***sorry for the rant!

When I was 17 and a senior in high school my girlfriend (same age and grade) got pregnant. We were both so scared and had no idea how to approach such a grown-up situation with our adolescent minds and problem solving skills. The back and forth we went through, the indecision and agony we went through over what to do sticks with me to this day. I'm 36 now and my bio-daughter will be 18 on the 20th of December. Sophie, wherever you are out there, I want you to know I think about you everyday and love you so dearly. My greatest hope is that you are healthy, safe and happy. My one wish and prayer for myself in this lifetime is that I meet you one day. And Elaine, sweet Elaine. I loved you more than heaven and earth. Wherever you are, I hope you are happy. You made me feel like the luckiest person in the world whenever I was with you. You had the innate ability to make every little rotten thing in life feel like it was going to be okay. No matter where I go in this life, whatever comes to pass, I will always, always, carry a room for you in my heart.

Some of you may already know that we are adopting our first child here in Zambia. I have had so many people asking questions about the process, and time just seems to be whizzing by (most days!) as things are moving rather quickly in these initial stages. I decided to share where we are at, for our own memories sake, to keep friends and family updated, but also to encourage anyone out there who is on a similar journey. I am a reader, and so I have loved reading of other peoples experiences, and seeing what God is doing in peoples lives through adoption. We started our adoption process in April 2020, as in, we made the decision to find out what our options were. We had hit a few bumps along the road on having biological children, and whilst we have a solution, and we can have biological kids, I just felt God pointing us to adoption. It is so important to me that people understand that adoption is not a plan B, it is not second best, it is not a last resort. It is our first choice. [img]https://adoption.com/community/PF.Base/file/attachment/2020/11/f93ffb92cd5a21ced1af21a9d5497089_view.png[/img] We got in touch with the social workers at House of Moses mid April, as they were the orphanage in Lusaka that friends of ours used. Zambia is different in that they do not use agencies here, you work directly with government social workers and orphanages. They confirmed that as expats we could adopt, which was a huge relief! We were given a list of documents we needed to get together along with a letter to addressed to social welfare explaining why we want to adopt and our request (age, gender, health). Please remember, this is our experience of adoption in Zambia, and every case might not look the same and the systems may change. Documents we needed to submit: NRC Bank statement/payslip Reference letters Police clearance Marriage certificate Medical report (only at government hospital) Early May, we then had our interview (also referred to as a home study/home assessment), with our social worker at House of Moses. Because we live outside of Lusaka, they did this on Zoom. It was about two hours long, very intensive! Which was really encouraging at how thorough they are. It was such a comfort to me that they are Christian, and were also so sensitive towards us as we had to share some difficult information from our pasts. It is not often you find yourself telling someone your entire history from birth! We still had to get our police clearance and medical report done, this was delayed purely from our own schedules as well as Covid. But we eventually got it done and we could then have our next visit. On the 10th June our social worker, Elizabeth Mzeche, here in Mazabuka came to our house to do the home visit and go through all our paperwork and application. We had a couple of changes to make and then our application was delivered to Lusaka on the 21st June. We had initially been told it could take anything between 2-4 weeks, but that there might be delays to Covid. Catch phrase of 2020! Naturally, as soon as we hit the end of 4 weeks I got in contact to see if there was any news, which there was none. Our social workers have been so kind and gracious towards me, with all my questions, and I am so grateful for Gods presence in all this. Then, completely out of the blue, on the 6th August, I received a message from Elizabeth asking if I had received my copy of the approval letter as she had just received hers. I could not believe it, so unexpected, but what was just miraculous, was the letter was dated 24th June, which means our application was processed and approved in less than 3 days?! That is a miracle, nothing happens that quickly, ever? So it was either waiting to be printed, to be taken to a different desk, to be taken to be signed, and then sent out for delivery, and or floated about somewhere in the postal system. Who knows where the delay was, but quite frankly, I am so thankful to God for the miracle! Our name has been added to the list of families wanting to adopt, and now, we wait to be matched to a baby. Our request was a boy or girl, under 12 months of age, as young as possible! They work with the Child Protection Unit to do family tracing on the child, then once that is done, a police clearance report is written to clear the child for adoption. So that will all take time. Hopefully, in the not to distant future, we will get the call to say we can go meet our child! We then have to spend some time with the child at the orphanage to go through a bonding/attachment period. Once that is done, then we get to take our baby home on a 3 month fostering agreement. Once that is done, then we do the adoption paperwork. It is all quite a process! I had a bit of a wobble around the time of our application being submitted, there were just so many unknowns and not knowing if I would be holding a baby in 2 months or 12 months or more was freaking me out. But I realised that I could ruin this season by allowing myself to be consumed with mistrust, impatience, doubt, fear, ingratitude, and even what was probably pride and selfishness. I didn’t want to look back on this season of my life and see how I had missed the happiness because I was being so self focussed. So I gave it all to God, and He provided me with such a peace and patience which I am so grateful for. This is a journey, and there have been and will be tough days, but I am keeping my eyes fixed on Jesus in this. Also, I am enjoying our time without kids. I am in a season now where I am looking forward to a bit of chaos in our lives, and even the sleepless nights and endless nappies. I know that it won’t be long before I will find myself wondering what it is like to have time all to ourselves and what on earth were we thinking having kids. But, I also know, having seen it in so many women, that there will will come a time, as our baby grows up, that I will miss the season of chaos. Every season has it’s mix of chaos and bliss. So we are enjoying our time, where we are at now, and I am reading and doing the odd bit of shopping … We would love you to pray with us on this journey. For our hearts, for our marriage, for our baby, for the birth parents, for their salvation and healing, for our social workers. The proverb, “It takes a village to raise a child” could not be more true. [img]https://adoption.com/community/PF.Base/file/attachment/2020/11/05d076c4e9f65a735c21f614113dc58d_view.png[/img] If you have questions about adoption, please do ask me, or someone, or Google. Adoption has never been a foreign concept to us, but I appreciate that for many people this is not the case, and there are questions. But don’t leave those questions unasked, not just for your sake, but for everyone’s. x A common, often unasked, question: “How will you love a child that is not your ‘own’?” They are my own, they just didn’t come from my body. I will love them the same way I love my husband, who is also not a blood relative. By choosing to, every day, for the rest of our lives.

In truth, they really don't understand what it feels like to be adopted. They don't understand the questions in your head that you wonder about almost every day and can never answer. Or the fact that your adoption lurks in the background. It is somewhat like a shadow that never speaks. There are also feelings of being an "outsider" everyday. Another lack of understanding among people "who don't get it" is why we as adoptees can't move on and forget about the adoption. I wish we could. No one has been able to provide any direction to do that.

Am Cynthia 24 of Age willingly to be adopted by Family outside Nigeria here's my email address : cynthiaokonkwo63@gmail.com Please 🙏

Looking for natural parents and siblings. Name of parents before they divorced-Ralph and Mary(Anthony)Bennett. The siblings names before adoption were Michael, Susie Bennett and Harry Kuehn. They called me Ronnie. Michael and Susie were adopted by the same parents(Henderson family,moved to az). Harry and I were seperated and adopted by different parents or Harry stayed with our birthmother. I was born at San Bernardino County Hospital at 4:20 am 5 lbs.9oz. 19" in 1965. Doctor's name was James E. Cunningham.The last time I saw all of them was in the early 70's. Marriages: BENNETT RALPH H 26 ANTHONY MARY C 17 1964 09 08 SAN BERNARDINO MILEY JAMES D 27 ANTHONY SHIRLEY R 18 1964 09 08 SAN BERNARDINO* (found but,no info given)* Birth Families: BENNETT RALPH H 1940 02 19 MCATEE MALE CONTRA COSTA ANTHONY MARY CATHARINE 1947 07 12 STEVENS FEMALE SAN BERNARDINO BENNETT RONNIE R 1965 06 14 ANTHONY MALE SAN BERNARDINO (me) BENNETT MARIE S 1966 12 22 ANTHONY FEMALE RIVERSIDE BENNETT MICHAEL J 1968 07 28 ANTHONY MALE SAN BERNARDINO (Brother Found) KUEHN HARRY L 1972 06 24 ANTHONY MALE SAN BERNARDINO (half Brother) Father's siblings: BENNETT VERNON ALLEN 1931 01 18 MCATEE MALE CONTRA COSTA BENNETT WILFRED DOW 1932 02 01 MCATEE MALE CONTRA COSTA BENNETT BETTY ALINE 1935 11 30 MCATEE FEMALE CONTRA COSTA BENNETT Unknown BENNETT Unknown Mother's siblings: ANTHONY BOBBY HERMAN 1950 05 02 STEVENS MALE SAN BERNARDINO ANTHONY JOSEPHIN L 1922 06 23 STEVENS FEMALE SAN FRANCISCO ANTHONY SHIRLEY ROSALIE 1946 04 19 STEVENS FEMALE SAN BERNARDINO *(found but,no info given)* ANTHONY SHIRLEY A 1924 05 04 STEVENS FEMALE SAN FRANCISCO ANTHONY THOMAS FRED 1949 04 07 STEVENS MALE SAN BERNARDINO Grand parents mother's side: ANTHONY FRED F. 1893 02 15 Male MISSOURI Died 11-08-1977 in San Bernardino Ca. ANTHONY/STEVENS GRACE M. 1905 04 10 Female Michigan Died 10-13-1987 in San Bernardino Ca. Grand Father father's side: BENNETT, RALPH 478-01-6361 IA 22 Aug 1915 Jun 1973 CA Fontana, California MACATEE, PATRICIA J. CA 24 JUL 1926 DEATH UKNOWN SAN BERNARDINO,CALIFORNIA. UPDATE:! Shirley R. Miley, age 60, of Horicon, died on Sunday, September 10, 2006 at the Beaver Dam Community Hospital. Visitation for Shirley will be at St. Stephen Ev. Lutheran Church, on Thursday, September 14, 2006, from 10:00 AM until the time of the service. The funeral service will then follow on Thursday at the church beginning at 11:00 AM. Rev. Daniel Seehafer will officiate. Burial will be in Oakhill Cemetery in Horicon. The former Shirley Roselie Anthony was born on April 19, 1946, in San Bernardino, CA, to Fred & Grace (Stevens) Anthony. On September 8, 1964, she was united in marriage to James Miley in San Bernardino, CA. She was a member of St. Stephen Ev. Lutheran Church of Horicon. She was also a member of the Horicon VFW Auxiliary Unit 8057 and the Horicon American Legion Auxiliary Unit 157. Shirley was a loving , caring and dedicated wife, mother and grandmother. She was very dedicated and determined to over come any and all life obstacles. Survivors include; her husband, James Miley of Horicon; her five children, Debbie (Tim) Gutjahr of Mayville, Patty Miley of Ripon, Martha (Vonnie) Lehman of Horicon, James (Laura) Miley II, of Horicon and Barb Schuett of Watertown; her seven grandchildren, Tim, Jordan & Tyler Gutjahr, Bobbie & Chris Miley and Jimmy III & Ashly Miley; her two brothers and her two sisters, nieces, nephews, other relatives and friends. Shirley was preceded in death by her parents; her son, Robert and her granddaughter Melissa Miley. Memorials to the family are suggested. The Murray Funeral Home in Horicon is serving the family. www.MurrayFH.com Name Shirley Miley (Anthony) Born Apr 19, 1946 Died Sep 10, 2006 Place Beaver Dam Community Hospital Location St. Stephen Ev. Lutheran Church in Horicon First Visitation Thu Sep 14th from 10:00am to 11:00am Location Information 505 N Palmatory St. Horicon, WI 53032 Location St. Stephen Ev. Lutheran Church in Horicon Time Thu Sep 14, 2006 11:00am Location Information 505 N Palmatory St. Horicon, WI 53032 Location Oakhill Cemetery Location Information S. Main Street Road Horicon, WI 53032