Just to let everyone know before reading this that what I write here is 100% true. I am an adopted child.
When I was born, my mother (let’s call her Freda) was very young. She was, in esscence, still a child herself. My father (let’s call him Jon) on the other hand, was quite a lot older. There was roughly a thrity year age gap between them.
My birth- parents tried to look after me, but me and the significant age gap wore on them, and by the age of five months, they weren’t together anymore.
They still tried to work together for my sake, but by a year old, I was in a foster home – where Freda and Jon would come visit me. I know they both loved me very much. And still do.
Between the ages of one and almost two, I was in about three different foster homes. The social care system decided that it would be best for me that I be adopted. Freda and Jon continued to visit me in my foster home. The social care system found a couple that weren’t able to have children.
I don’t know all the ins and outs of the adoption process, only that it was a long and hard road. Freda met with the young couple and decided that they were a great fit, and would be excellent parents to her little girl.
And so by the time I was two years old, I was living with the young couple in their home. I now know that although I was living with them, I still wasn’t legally their daughter and wouldn’t be until I was four years old. Freda was struggling to come to terms with my adoption, and wanted to try again to look after me.
But the courts determined that that wasn’t possible. That she simply couldn’t do it, because she didn’t know how and that I was being neglected.
At four years old I was wheeled back to court with my soon to be parents. And they signed the legal documents required to say I was officially their daughter. I imagine it would have been the best day of their lives, second only to their wedding day.
At about five, when I could understand quite a lot more what had happened, my mummy and daddy explained to me that I came from another mummy, but that she couldn’t look after me.
I got this. I have a birth mummy and a birth daddy. That’s easy enough to understand. I have a folder with photos of Freda and Jon in, and age relevant information for me to read whenever I want.
As I grew older, my parents told me more and more about Freda and Jon, and why I was adopted. I learned that I was neglected, in that I wasn’t looked after properly because they didn’t know how.
At about thirteen, I was allowed to start writing my own letters to Freda. We had had contact all my life, through something called letterbox. My mum wrote letters bi-annually and so did she. When I was thirteen, I asked if I could write the letters, of course mum would check them before we sent them. That way I could talk to my birth-mother. I also received birthday cards and Christmas cards from both birth-parents each year.
When I was eighteen however, this all stopped. Since letterbox is a government funded system, it ceases when the child reaches adulthood. That sucks honestly. And at eighteen I got a letter through from the social services asking if I wanted to meet my parents. At this point however, I was going through a rough patch and decided it wasn’t the best time, and so I’ve put it off. Until now.
My birth mother has since got married, and has five kids. And my birth father is also married. I got a letter asking again, if I want contact with them. And this time round I’ve decided that I’m ready, and so I rang social services and told them yes, that I’m ready to meet my birth parents. And that’s where I am now.
I’m waiting on a letter or email about how to go about it all. As I have to access my records first, and read about why I was taken away. My parents only know that I wasn’t looked after because Freda was too young. But apparently there is more to this story.
I’ll update as I know more.
If anyone reading this is adopted, or has adopted. Please reach out to me. It would be nice to talk to someone who can empathise, and I’m sure it would be nice for you too.
Thankyou for reading!