I’m An Adoptee Without An Adoption Trauma Story
Not all adoptions cause trauma.
Dubova | Shutterstock, SDI Productions | Canva I’ve seen many stories about adoption trauma shared on social media and other platforms. First, let me say that my story doesn’t apply to those adopted outside of infancy. I have no problem understanding the trauma and hurt of those taken from a birth family, plopped into a strange home, and all that comes with stories of those adopted from the foster care system.
Where I struggle with understanding is those who were adopted at birth or in early infancy into safe and loving homes. It’s not my place to deny anyone’s trauma, but I genuinely have a hard time relating to the feelings they so poignantly describe. I was adopted as a baby, and when I was eighteen, I learned that it was a familial adoption where someone I knew as my aunt was my birth mom.
Growing up loved
I always knew I was adopted. I think I knew that word before I could even understand what it meant — it was just something unique about me. After all, I was special. I had been chosen.
In my teen years, as rebellion took hold, I remember fantasizing about my “real” parents. I was sure they would understand me in a way my Mom and Dad could not. Somewhere deep down, I knew that was a lie I told myself to cope with the angst of adolescence.
After all, a genetic connection wasn’t going to change the fact that my parents had known and loved me my entire life. They were the ones who worked and sacrificed, so I would have the things I needed. They did the sleepless nights as an infant, the exhaustion of chasing a toddler, the million questions of a preschooler, and everything else that comes as a part of parenting. At least one of them was there for every sporting event, and my Mom often proved that she knew me better than I knew myself.
My parents were not perfect, and my childhood wasn’t idyllic. There were struggles with money, and my mom’s health started to decline when I was in middle school. She died when I was 20 after a long battle with cancer. But I also grew up in a family that loved me, and my basic needs were always met. We laughed together, we took inexpensive vacations at the lake, and even though I was an only child, I had a huge extended family on my dad’s side. So, I grew up surrounded by cousins, aunts, uncles, and other family members.
When I turned 18, my mom sat me down for a conversation about my birth mother. Before this, I had thought my parents never met my birth mom. They had always told me, “She couldn’t take care of you and loved you enough to want to make sure you went to someone who would love and care for you.” As it turned out, my birth mother was my mom’s step-sister.
While separated from her husband, she’d gotten pregnant with me. She had children with her husband, and they decided to attempt to repair their marriage, but he couldn’t fathom raising a child that wasn’t his. I have no malice about his decision, as I can only imagine the trauma that might have been inflicted if he’d tried. Meanwhile, my parents desperately wanted children but couldn’t conceive.
I grew up several states away from this side of the family. So, we visited once or twice a year, and I adored my aunt (birth mom) and cousins (half-siblings), but I wasn’t close to them because of distance. When my mom told me the story, I cried, and I admit to feeling betrayed. It felt like the entire family knew this very important secret and had all been complacent in keeping it from me.
However, it didn’t take long for me to realize that everyone involved had done the best they could and with good intentions. I can’t imagine how awkward it would have been had I been given that information before I was ready.
Meeting my birth mother
Though the word meeting doesn’t work, I’m not sure how to describe that first visit after learning that my aunt was my biological mother. She apologized as though she’d done something wrong. I promised her that I couldn’t imagine my life any other way. It was interesting to see the things I had been blind to before. I inherited several of her features, and we had much in common, from food preferences to noise aversions.
I learned little about my biological father, as it was a one-night stand, and as far as I know — he has no idea that I exist. So, though I had a name, it’s a relatively common name with little else to go on. Other than a few half-hearted Google searches, I never made an effort to find him.
Then, my Mom’s health started to decline rapidly. So, for the next two years, I stayed in contact with my birth mom, but I was distracted, busy, and overwhelmed as a young adult dealing with my mom’s decline and eventual death from cancer. She was a warrior and fought so hard. Sadly, not too long after my mom passed away, my birth mom was diagnosed with cancer as well.
So, before I was 23, I had lost both the mom who raised me and the one who gave birth to me.
Adoption trauma
I see so many tales of adoption trauma, and I would never deny their right to their own feelings about adoption. If anything, it’s forced me into self-examination to see if there is some suppressed adoption trauma that I’m denying or covering up. After years of self-reflection, if there is trauma there, it’s buried so well it might as well remain hidden.
I had the honor and privilege of being loved by an adoptive family that wanted me and chose to take on parenting me. Like most young people, I didn’t always make that easy for them. I was fortunate enough to have a birth mother willing to make an unbearable sacrifice that was the best thing for my half-siblings and for me. I can’t imagine how she must have agonized over that decision while pregnant. Then, she spent so much of my life afraid that I would feel unloved or unwanted by her when I found out the truth.
In reality, even as a young adult, I understood. She’d made a difficult but loving choice and blessed my parents with the child they couldn’t have.
Not all adoptive homes are loving and safe
Adoption, like genetics, does not guarantee that a home will be a loving and safe place for a child to grow up. I’m not equipped to talk about that because I grew up in a safe home. If that wasn’t your experience, I’m genuinely sorry, and please know my confusion about trauma does not stem from stories like yours.
Instead, I’m trying to understand the social media influencers and bloggers who discuss profound adoption trauma DESPITE being adopted as an infant into a reasonably loving and stable home. They talk of a profound sense of loss and of not fitting in. Many go so far as to express beliefs that adoption shouldn’t be legal. Guardianship, maybe, but no child should be adopted until they’re old enough to give informed consent.
I’ll admit that I’m baffled. There seems to be some consensus that “legal guardianship” should replace all adoptions. Speaking as an adoptee, I can’t imagine how it would have felt to have grown up without the guarantee that my parents would be my parents forever. I’m blessed to have my dad still — and even as a woman in her 50s, I can’t imagine my life without him. I struggle with the logistics of how it would have worked if he’d been my legal guardian growing up.
Adoption has its place
While I never want to dismiss the voices of those who feel they’ve been harmed by adoption, I do want the world to know that there are beautiful stories of successful families built by adoption. As with everything in life, it’s never black and white. But, at its core, some good people are willing to take in and love a child as their own, and some children need the love and commitment of a forever home.
I’m not sure how we separate the issue of adoption from the issue of abuse. Abuse in all forms happens, and its impacts can be profound. However, according to Psychology Today, children adopted at birth are eight times less likely to experience abuse or neglect.
My concern is that the recent surge in discussing adoption trauma will force birth parents into keeping children they feel ill-equipped to raise instead of seeking loving homes because they may think that they’re hurting their child by the act of placing them in an adoptive home. And that loving parents like mine will have fewer chances of adopting a child because of the fear of adoption trauma.
Dena Standley is a professional content strategist and legal writer. She writes about family, travel, mental health, and a range of other topics.