Adoption, Really?

Wonder what my siblings think about open and closed adoption? I will ask them that question one day.  For now, I will just savor the joy of sharing the rest of my life with them; no questions asked.  Most likely by them being my younger siblings, they would not care to answer too much about this adoption thing. This  thing was part of my life when I was young, about ten years old.  A Closed Adoption of my youngest sister  took place.  I did not see her again until 36 years later.  Of course, I would learn this was a  Closed Adoption.   Believe me,  it is “closed.”  There is no communication, no visitation. I did not understand all the ramifications.  I heard our Mother say many times that she would never sign any papers giving her children up, where she would never see them.  I just remember a social worker took my little sister  from my mother’s arms.   After  realizing she was not going to return her,  my mother  was crying;  I cried, too. Not my “dad,” though. That evening when he came home from work, he was angry and fired up.  He stated he was going to paint “this town red!”  Things were tense and seemingly no one had any answers.

Why would anyone take my sister away?   I loved her dearly.  She was like a beautiful doll; she was very special to me.   When I initially experienced Closed Adoption, my sister was three years old and  I was ten years old.  A successful search would not be made until 36 years later.

Our mother was a woman of minimal means, was doing the best she could to support her  family.  No such thing as public assistance or welfare. We never knew of anything like that.  Our Mother was a domestic worker. She was also a sharecropper and  held  a job title as a “field hand.”   At the age of seven, I  worked on various plantations with my mother picking strawberries and cotton, whatever. We had to fill the pints in the strawberry crate heaping. When picking the cotton, I remember the sacks of cotton were heaping.  She would use the money I earned to help make ends meet.  This was a way of life.  It

was not unusual that our grandparents would raise the kids.  Also, it was the norm  that other family members, friends, and neighbors  would reach out to help you raise your  kids. I never knew of any strings being attached. Or maybe I was too young to know. For there were times when I would stay with other relatives, like, my Aunt Nell.  She was such a wonderful aunt to me. She would also babysit for my mother.

She cared for my youngest brother while my mom went to her job.

Now, Open Adoption is just that, open. The child of concern is inclusive with all parties.  We tacitly understood someone other than our parents were raising our siblings; that they were living in a different household. I would not know that this was known as Open Adoption. All I knew when I was young is that one of my brothers were living with an aunt. My sister  was living with someone my mother knew.

She was about forty miles away.  My brother was about 70 miles away.  I visited both my sister and brother as I was growing up, while I was in middle school and high school. I would travel the 40 miles to visit my sister.  Many times I would sleep overnight and share my sister’s bed. Then I returned  home the following day.  My brother was living farther, about 60 miles from me. Our bond was very close, too.  Never were any problems.  Throughout the years we visited each other.

I felt I was always welcome to visit my sister. But there was always the eerie feeling I had when I was young.  I began to wonder why my sister would not visit me sometime. I may have misdirected my thoughts. I just felt my Mother was not  able physically to care for my sister.   A big part of that time, my Mother was a single parent. She and my dad had parted ways.  She

Adoption, Really? Mystics of Open And Closed Adoption
Wonder what my siblings think about open and closed adoption? I will ask them that question one day. For now, I will just savor the joy of sharing the rest of my life with my siblings, no questions asked. Most likely by them being my younger siblings, they would not care to answer too much about this adoption thing. This adoption thing was part of my life when I was young, about ten years old. No, I was not adopted. Adoption took place with  three of my siblings, one by closed adoption, two by open adoption. My siblings are younger than I. When I initially experienced Closed Adoption, my youngest sister was three years old;  I was ten years old.   A “Closed Adoption” took place with my youngest sister.   A successful search would not be made until 36 years later.
As for Open Adoption, I like and appreciate more. However, years ago when I first experienced Open Adoption, I was unaware of it by that name.  I only knew that two of my siblings were living in someone else household; that someone else was helping my parents to raise some of their children. That was a practice that was known in my community as “raising a child up” as you would your biological child.
Part of the time, my Mother was living  with one of her sisters in cramped conditions.  They shared a two or three-room shot-gun type house.

Comments

  1. Well written what a life exprience

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