Cabbage Patch? That’s where my parents told me I was from. It seems the stork dropped their special little girl off in Ohio, right into their cabbage patch.
How many of us have been told a tall tale about our arrival? There are lots of stories our parents told us: we came from Heaven, or we were delivered by the stork, or we were found behind a cloud, or, simply put, we were “a miracle.” I like to think I arrived because I had a birth mother who realized she could not take care of me anymore, and she did the right thing. Many years later I would learn this was, in fact, the situation.
Immediately after your arrival, how were you received? Were you old enough to remember those first few days? I remember a seeing a picture of a lady holding my hand and looking happy. For many years I thought she was my birth mother…but she was my caseworker. I still have that picture and I often wonder if she was smiling because she successfully placed another child, or because my placement meant one less kid in the orphanage.
Back to the reception- I became an only child, adopted at age 2. During the first few weeks (according to pictures) I was taken to visit every single relative on both sides of the family. I don’t remember those days but many years later I found some letters to my mom saying how cute I was and how lucky they were to have me. On my dad’s side of the family each of his siblings had one child. So in that respect, I fit in. My cousins were nice to me…I was the special little girl.
Fitting in with the family seemed to work. At home the “special” tag was a fact of life, but at school it was a different story. I was the odd man out at my Catholic grade school. There was one boy in my class that was also an only child, but everyone else came from big families. My friend Sue came from a family of eight kids! It was a feat if one could name all of her siblings in order. I used to ask my parents if they would get me a brother or sister but they never really answered the question. Being part of a large family was a dream of mine. Later in life this dream came true…more in a future blog.
Today I’m still an adoptee. I just had a birthday and turned 65…officially old. My perspective and experiences are probably different than yours but I would like to share with you and learn how you dealt with being “special.”
After 30 years in the financial end of local government, I decided it was time for some couple time, and I began the next phase in my life. My husband and I love to travel and we have been blessed to be able to hit the road on a fairly regular basis.
Who cares about the background and experiences of some old woman from Ohio? I hope you do because you are also an adoptee. I want to share with you and have you share with me. I’ll be an adoptee forever and need insight from others. I have some stories and adventures to share, such as: reading my birth certificate for the first time, learning how to search for my birth family, and dealing with successes and failures on this journey.
I’d love to hear about how you were delivered to your parents: by miracle, stork, or another, more creative, method. Did you feel out of place in school as an adoptee? I look forward to hearing from you.
That’s my view from the cabbage patch…