On August 7th, 1991 I was born, and I was put into the arms of two strangers. Some of my first memories are of these strangers teaching me to ride my tricycle, helping me to conquer my fear of the slide, and tucking me into my covers every night.
These strangers read me a bedtime story every night. At least once a week, they read me a story titled, “It’s Okay to be Adopted.” In fact, I memorized every word of this book before I could read. These two strangers are my mother and father, I love them and they love me.
I believe in love towards adopted children. My brother and I are often questioned about being adopted. We are asked, “Do you wish you were with your real parents?” Or “Do you want to meet your mom and dad?” Our reply to these people often surprise, and take them off guard.
“We live with our real parents; we know our mother and father.”
Just because my mother was not the one to give birth to me does not make my love any less for her; in fact, it makes my love stronger. My mother never went through the pain of giving birth, but she did raise me and my brother. From buying us toys to taking us to soccer games, she has been there and done that… twice.
Both my brother and I have the same feeling toward being adopted. We are our mother’s and our father’s children. Often times, my brother and I will pass through months without ever thinking twice about adoption. Of coarse thoughts do arise on occasion, usually triggered by a long series of questions and opinions about the topic from close friends or girlfriends. Nonetheless it never bothers us.
When my parents talk about adoption they talk about the fear they had about us being ridiculed or of us not understanding and being frightened. With both my parents being teachers we were sure to have lessons hammered into our heads twice a day, from bedtime stories about adoption, to open dinner conversations where my brother and I were encouraged to speak up and ask questions when we needed answers.
Today, my parents still talk about it every once in a while, letting us know we can still ask questions. My brother even wants to meet his real mom, which is legal once he turns eighteen. I on the other hand, am perfectly happy with my mom and dad. My parents support both our decisions, and I thank them for being so open about adoption.
I believe in true affectionate love for adopted children, my mother and father believe in this too.
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