I’m not special!

When I ask questions surrounding my adoption or try talking about my situation, especially to family, I get the usual stories about someone they (the person I’m talking too) know who was adopted but never wanted to find out who their birth parents were.   And of course there’s always the “your parents loved you” and lets not leave out my favourite –  “you where special”.  I got this just recently from a relative.  I felt like I was smacked across the face. I felt like they considered me to be disrespectful to my adoptive mum and dad for searching.

Firstly, “I’m not bloody special!”. Secondly, I realise all too well how lucky I was to be bought up in a loving and happy family” and “yes I know they loved me and I loved them”. Then I feel the need to defend myself by telling them my search is more about knowing my medical history, which is very true,  but not the only reason.

When I start defending my reasons for searching I know the conversation’s over and I’m sorry I raised the topic in the first place.  And afterwards I fall into a black hole and lose the will to do or say anything else to anyone who isn’t in the same situation.  Pack the whole subject back into the deep dark hole it’s been in for most of my life.

I just wish people who aren’t directly affected by adoption would shut the fuck up. And here’s a thought – why don’t you support us.  After all you know where you got your blue or brown eyes from and you know what to say to the Dr when he asks you about your family medical history.

I can’t love my adopted family any more than I do.  All of them.  I prove it time and time again after all:

  • It was me who spoke to my Mum everyday, be it by phone but mostly by popping in.
  • It was my kids who saw their Grand-mother and Great-grandmother many times per week before they passed away.
  • It was my kids who continued seeing their Great Aunt almost daily until we moved to Sydney.
  • It’s me who secretly calls a little in-let “Daphy Bay” after my Mum.  This little bay is overlooked by the hospital my Mum died in. It’s a peaceful bay surrounded by trees and a great place to go and reflect and cry for the Mum who raised me, the Mum who I miss terribly.

And I’m the one who feels isolated every time you open your mouth and in a small unintentional way make me fell guilty because I’m searching for my birth family.

Author: Kitty

First and foremost I'm a busy working woman but I'm also a mother, grandmother and mother-in-law. I was brought up in a small country town but I've lived and worked in Sydney for over 20 years. I'm a slack blogger because life and earning a living gets in the way.

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