I waited to respond to your message, I wanted to consider your point of view a little more, your position about me not being a mother to the daughter I gave up for adoption. I can see where you're coming from. At first I thought maybe you said it from emotion, but I've considered what you have said that title of mother means to you.

You're right, after leaving the hospital I never changed another diaper for her, I didn't wipe her nose or teach her the ABC's. I never helped her with her pets or made her clean her room, I did not get her ready for picture day or buy her dresses for special occasions/school dances. I did not support her ROTC command. I wasn't there when she had to have a palate splitter or have her braces tightened. And those are things that mother's do for their kids. So in that way, I'm not her mother. I respect that.

I was 15 when I realized I was pregnant. I was sexually abused since I was 2 years old; my abuser had told me that I was still a virgin because he had never "done that" inside of me. I was a very good kid, I didn't lie, drink, smoke or sneak out. I did not have sex. Because of the way my abuser had trained me growing up, I didn't think what he was doing was sex. I was isolated from very much interaction with people my own age, he was very intentional about that. I'll spare you the really yucky details.

When I accepted that I was pregnant, the first thing I did was hide the pregnancy. I was pretty sure that he would force an abortion. After I could no longer hide the pregnancy, my abuser first tried to find a way to force a late term abortion, but when he could not find the funds he informed me that I would give up the baby. My mother told me that no one should know about it.

It was at this point that she also decided to tell me that my abuser was not actually my father, but my step father. She told me that my father had died in prison. He was a pedophile who had assaulted her and she had given birth to me. She said she kept me because she wanted something of her own, someone who would love her. She was the middle child in a large family and had always felt unimportant. She saw my birth as a solution to that.

I finished my sophomore year and when school let out I slept during the day and was allowed out at night, once everyone was in bed. I did not see a doctor, but I had heard that babies needed vitamin D and so I mixed up the powdered milk each night and had it when I woke up.

I spent a lot of time reading letters from hopeful parents that wanted a baby. I decided that I wanted her to have siblings, a mother that didn't work and plenty of money. That was how I narrowed them down. I was always hungry as a kid, I imagined if she had plenty of money she would not be hungry, she would have pets, her own bed in her own room, a normal Dad and a mom that didn't get high.

I went into labor in the July heat. I had no idea what was about to happen, I had not seen the doctor and no one explained it to me, but I was sure about bringing her into the world.

I don't remember her labor or delivery, I don't remember signing the papers or leaving the hospital. I do remember waking up after she was born. I thought I was still pregnant and I wasn't sure where I was. A very nice nurse explained to me that I had delivered the baby. After she left, I used my IV to steady myself and set off to find the nursery. I found my daughter and I had a bit of a disagreement with the nurse there. In my first act of openly going against an adult, I reminded them that this was still my baby and I would keep her with me.

While I stayed in the hospital I kept her with me. I changed her and fed her; a nice nurse helped me try to figure out nursing her. There were moments with her in the hospital that are too personal for me to share here.

I believe that I had never really loved anything or anyone before I was pregnant, not really. When I left the hospital I went back to the heat of hiding in the little bedroom. I wasn't to come out during the day until I no longer looked like I had been pregnant. I did not speak, I just thought about things. I decided that I was not likely to feel that way about anyone ever again and so at 16, I decided that I was going to live without love, but that it was fine as long as she would have a good life. As long as she would be safe from the mess she was born into.

After about a year I told on my step father. He did not serve any time. My mother implied that the blame was on me.

I moved out at 18. I grew older, fell in love, had more children and even became a guardian to a teen at risk. I also kept up with my first daughter's parents. I wrote her letters and requested photos and updates. I wrote about how I love her, about the birth of each of her siblings and about myself and her heritage. The letters from her parents stopped coming when she was about 12. I still don't know why.

When the letters stopped coming my husband helped me by setting up a family website with the info I was certain she would know about me and the family. We linked it to our Facebook pages. If by some miracle she found the page, she would get to see her brothers and sisters right away.

Since they were born, the other kids knew about their sister. I realize now how unfair that was to her. Her parents decided not to give her the letters I wrote, so her siblings knew all about her, but she didn't know much about them at all and never even knew the youngest was born.

In 2014 she found the family website using combinations of our names linked together. My husband is an IT Director and worked very hard to be sure that the family page would be high up on the search results if our names were searched linked together. From there, she linked to my Facebook page, but it was a whole year more before she got a message to me. Facebook messenger had sent her first message to my "other" box. In 2015 she realized this was a possibility and she sent me a friend request.

I recognize that this is not the same kind of mothering that you described. This is something different.

I consider myself a mother because I fought to be sure she would be born, I protected her, I tried to keep her healthy, I fought for the right to spend what time I had with her and I was willing to give up what her life would require from me. I was steadfast in my desire to know her and to be sure she would know I loved her.

Now, as the mother to my adult daughter, I try to stay consistent, reliable and not ask for more than she wants to have. I am not perfect at it, but I don't give up. Because despite what you might think, I'm not a quitter.

TL;DR: I was afraid contacting my birth parents would tear two families apart. Instead, I learned I was never a secret and was welcomed by my birth parents, siblings, and extended family with open arms 🥹🩵

About six months ago, I (33F) [Posted](https://www.reddit.com/r/amiwrong/s/kdGw6co6jo) on r/amiwrong asking if I was wrong for not wanting to reach out to my birth parents.

For some background, I was adopted at birth by a wealthy couple. My adoptive father was caring to the best of his ability but mostly absent; my relationship with my adoptive mother was complicated. There was a lot of conflict, abuse, and eventually a 15 year period where we didn’t speak after she kicked me out at 16.

My adoptive father committed suicide 5 days short of my 21st birthday. Between my childhood, that loss, my adoptive mom's absence, and no contact with other adoptive family members, I spent many years alone and utterly depressed.

One of my best friend's found both of my birth parents on Facebook 7 years ago, but I never contacted them. It wasn’t because I was afraid of rejection. I was afraid I’d show up and disrupt their lives.

They were both married to other people and had children. I kept thinking, what if I was a dark secret? What if I’m the secret that ruins their marriages or hurts their kids and their relationship with them by surfacing?

From time to time, my boyfriend (32M) brought up that reaching out wouldn't really change anything. I could possibly be a part of something amazing, and be with my loving family. If they ignored me or didn’t want a relationship, I’d be in the same position I was already in. I finally realized he was right.

So I reached out.

I could not have been more wrong about how this was going to go.

My birth parents were immediately loving and welcoming. One of the first things they both told me was that I was never a secret— not to their spouses, not to their kids, not to their families. They said they had always loved me and had always wondered about me.

My siblings were just as excited to meet me as I was to them. My birth dad’s wife was excited to meet me. My extended and immediate family was excited to meet me.

Every fear I’d built up in my head for years turned out to be completely unfounded.
I spent so much of my life worried that reaching out would tear a family apart.

Instead, I found one 🩵

It’s honestly been one of the most healing experiences of my life, and I’m really grateful I finally took the chance. I've shared some photos of our first and second meet up.

I know reaching out can be scary. From what I've learned, it's worth the risk. I'm so grateful I took my boyfriend's advice 🥹

I am an adoptee. Closed, adopted as a newborn. Loving, wonderful parents. An amazing life. A SIGNIFICANTLY better life than what I would have had if I had stayed with my biological family (bio parents in college and not ready to be parents).

I came to this subreddit looking to see others stories, but after two years, I have to leave. It breaks my heart to see the comments and posts lately which almost universally try to shame or talk people out of adoption. And it’s even more infuriating to see people insist that all adoptees have suffered trauma. No. Not all of us. Certainly not me. It’s unhealthy to assume that everyone who has a certain characteristic feels the same way about it.

While I understand that there are many unethical sides to adoption and many adoptees have not had a great experience with their families, I want all adoptive or potentially adoptive parents to know that, as long as you are knowledgeable, willing to learn, and full of love, you will be a wonderful parent. Positive adoption stories are possible. You just won’t find many here because those of us with positive stories are too scared to comment publicly.

I wish everyone on here a positive future, whether that’s starting or adding to your family, working through trauma, or finding family connections.

I was adopted at three months old. I had a dysfunctional family growing up, but I was cared for and loved. Both my adoptive parents passed away in separate car accidents, my dad when I was 17, and my mom three years ago, when I was 24.

I had a semi-open adoption, but my birth parents requested my adoptive parents stop sending them photos and updates about me when I was less than a year old.

I had a vague idea of who my birth parents were, I grew up knowing their names and I had several photos of them. I did a DNA test, and was matched with three full siblings, which shocked me. I was always told they were young, and that they barely knew each other, and wanted to further their education.

About three months ago I decided to google their names, and I found their social media. Turns out they are married to each other now, with seven more children they had together. I stalked them on Facebook a bit, and it seems like they have a relatively happy life.

I was shocked to find out I had seven full siblings, and that my sister who is closest in age to me, is actually only 11 months younger. I was even more shocked to find I have an older (full) brother who was not adopted out, who is only a a year and a few months older than me.

I ended up reaching out to my birth mother via Facebook, telling her that I would love to get to know her, that I’ve had a great life and that I have no expectations. She took a month to respond, and when she did she said she was surprised that I reached out, and to please not contact any of my siblings, as they aren’t aware of my existence.

I didn’t respond for a few days, but I ended up just asking her why she chose to give me up, and why never told anyone about me.
She responded and said that I was a NICU baby. She and my birth father were 17 when I was born, and they weren’t prepared to raise a disabled child. She said at the time, they were under the impression that I would never live independently, and that they weren’t in a place to have a special needs child.

I was again, shocked. I definitely was always in the lower price tiles for growth until puberty, but according to my grandmother by the time I was 8 months old I was hitting all the markers for regular mental development.

I have an MS in mathematics from a tier 1 university. I was an athlete in high school, and I never had any issues in school beyond being really horrible in art class. I’m married, with a child. I’m a fully functioning adult with a successful career and a family of my own, and it hurts to know I was given up on because of the slight chance I wouldn’t turn out perfect.

Part of me feels like I missed out on a life with siblings (I was raised an only child), and that I could still have a chance to know them and love them, that my daughter would have a chance to have cousins. My youngest siblings aren’t even in elementary school yet, and I could have a normal sibling bond with them, or at least be part of their lives from a young age, and I wish that I had that chance.

I’m not angry at my birth parents for giving me away, I don’t hate them. I’m hurt, but I’m not angry. I am angry that they’ve requested I not reach out to my adult siblings, and I’m considering doing it anyway.

I've been in and out of foster care since my youngest years. My biological parents made multiple attempts to win custody over me and in the past 15 years of my life I've moved in and out of their house four times. No matter how much they claimed to love me and need me in their life, their issues were just too much to be able to give me proper care and healthy family environment. The fourth time I was taken from them was the last one. I was 11. There were still multiple foster families I was staying with, some better, some worse. None of them made me feel at home though. I never felt safe, I never felt like I belonged, I never properly unpacked my bags cause I knew I'd be moved to another family like a pet.

I was 12 when I was adopted. When I found out I wouldn't have a mom and a dad, but two dads, other kids mocked me, told me that it's no better than living with my abusive parents or constantly changing foster families. And not knowing any better, I believed them. And I was very sceptical when I moved into my new home. And recalling that, it makes me feel so bad because now I know how much my dads tried to make me feel loved, safe and cared for. They did their best. And they continue to do so.

I did have an idea of what a loving family could be. Saying that my dads met my expectations would be an understatement. I'm not afraid anymore. I know they're there for me and that I can always count on them. I have my own place here and this is my forever home. We watch movies together, we go on trips, we play board games, they're really interested in my passions and they encourage me to pursue them. During the past 3 years I've traveled to more places than in the rest of my life. And I've heard "I love you" more than in the rest of my life. A part of me doesn't want to grow up and get older because I just want to stay here and enjoy my family.

I wrote this post because it makes me so sad that people still claim two men shouldn't have children and that they can't make a family. It couldn't be farther from the truth.

My siblings (11F, 9F, 6M, 4M)and I (13M) are in the foster care system for 3 years, after being separated for one year, our foster mom agreed to take the 5 of us together. It’s two years we are in her care, she finally asked my siblings and I if we wanted to make it official and that we become a real family!

I’m really delighted, I really love my mom and so do my siblings, we’ve been really happy with her. At first I didn’t want to only have a mother, I wanted a father figure because I have never had one and I thought she was too young to be my mom (26) so I thought it wouldn’t work. I’m happy that I was wrong because she’s the best mom ever. It’s still kinda weird that we only have a 13 years gap but it doesn’t matter at the end of the day I think.

At first I hated it there because there were rules and chores, I was a stubborn, I hated my sisters because they loved her from the start also I thought she could never love us like her own kids. But then I started to love her, I love my life there and now I never want to leave.

My kids are adopted. They are biological siblings, they're funny and kind, and they are the most important people in my life. This is not an anti adoption post. But I think that by pretending adoption is easy on anyone, we are doing parents and children a disservice.

My husband and I are both mental health professionals. He's a MSc level psychologist and I'm a Dr in paediatric psychology. I work specifically with children who have experienced trauma.

For years I was seeing all these incredible kids who ended up in orphanages because they had no family available to take them in. We had the skills and training, so we looked into adoption and eventually two siblings were placed with us.

Just as a note, we do not live in a country where you can pay an agency to adopt a child. You sign up, get various assessments over a 6-12 month period (psychiatric, medical, background and family checks etc) and then if a child is unable to be reunited with family, you get a call.

Even with all the training we had, it's been HARD.

Adopted children are not blank slates that you nurture into tiny versions of yourselves. They're tiny humans who started life with trauma and insecurity and loss. The first few months after birth are foundational in creating a sense of safety and security that will follow them for the rest of their life. Most adopted children either did not have that, or had it and lost it. There will be ramifications. ​There will be acting out. Every change in school, in teacher, in friend group, in routine is a possible trigger.

I get so frustrated when prospective parents go into adoption without getting adoption specific training.

I don't want to discourage adoption.

My family is incredible.

But I do want to discourage the idea that it's somehow the same as raising children without trauma. I don't want parents to think they can read a parenting book meant for non adopted children and think they're well prepared. We owe it to our children and ourselves to look at the harsh reality of adoption with open eyes, and to make sure we have every resource at their disposal.

I've now met all of siblings. What originally turned out to be seven siblings, turned into eight when I learned I have a full sister who was also an adoptee.

I have spend every day for the past nine with one of my siblings. I have three adult brothers, and two adult sisters. My sister who is also an adoptee reunited with them two years ago. You would never know she didn't grow up with them. The five of them mesh so seamlessly. I would be dishonest if I said they felt like strangers to me. I feel like I've known the five of them my entire life in some ways, despite only a bit more than a week having passed.

The call themselves 'First Batch' and they call our younger siblings 'Second Litter.' It is funnier and more catchy in our language, haha. I am now a part of the 'first batch' text threat, and social media group. It is odd, and insane. They're unfamiliar to me in almost every way, but it's more like seeing a best friend after being torn apart by war or tragedy.

My oldest biological brother is 29. My younger biological sister and I are both 27, thought I will be 28 in a few weeks. My younger sister who was also adopted out is 25, she will be 26 on the same day I turn 28. The twins who are the youngest of my grown siblings are 23. We all have winter birthdays.

I cannot imagine what my birth parents went through. My birth mother had six children between the ages of 15 and 21. I understand why she adopted out two of her children. I cannot imagine the weight on her shoulders.

Six of us are adults, and then there is a considerable age gap, three of my siblings are minors, a brother who is 12, and two under the age of six. My birth father arranged through my biological grandparents for me to meet the three of them, four days ago.

My youngest biological sister is four years old. She is the cutest little girl (aside from my own daughter!) I've ever met. She came up to me, tugged me down to her level, and then touched my hair. She said "Do you know you have curly hair?" I nodded, and she told me that now we were twins, because we were with only sisters with curly hair. I cried and laughed.

My youngest brother is younger than my own daughter.

My 12 year old biological brother hugged me, and cried a lot. We are the only two of nine who have brown hair, the rest have shades of blonde and strawberry.

He and I are strikingly similar. I'll say this again, it is so odd to see your own face in the faces of others. It's never something I've had and in the last week and few days, I have been overwhelmed by the shock of sharing mannerisms and features with those around me.

I met my birth father, he explained that he was young and he thought he did the right thing, and he's happy to see I turned out well. He cried more than he spoke.

Last night I video chatted with the 'first batch' siblings, and I met three of my first cousins via zoom. They are a set of siblings, my biological aunt's children. A female cousin and her younger brothers. All close to age as me. They were born and raised in North America, with an American father, thought one of my male cousins lives in our country, he married a girl from here and they have daughter the same age as mine. I will be meeting him and his wife on Monday.

My female cousin and I look so alike, I cried when I saw her face on the screen. My siblings and I are all very similar looking. We are clearly related. However, my cousin and I have the same face and laughter. It was so odd to hear an American accent out of my own face.

This set of cousins is very close with my siblings. My female cousin is a flight attendant/cabin crew. This is the only other career I ever seriously consider besides my own. It is also the same job as my own husband. These little coincidences and likenesses are the things I've been missing my entire life. She has a maths degree, she and I have texted all day today.

Apparently it is a joke among our extended family that her and her brothers look like they belong to my biological parents, instead of their own, and I understand why. All three of them are brown haired, darker eyed versions of my own biological siblings, and in this way I look more like them. It is so strange to see my face in the faces of others.

**This very long post summarised**

Part of me is a bit bitter about the years lost; having siblings near my age to brave the strange world through the lens of childhood with. Summer holidays in the states with cousins, one who shares my face and dreams.

I did have a wonderful mother and father, and I could never regret the life I've had. Grandparents, siblings, and cousins are all things I've never had until now. I have a reason to go to America (after covid), I'm going to meet my cousin (in person) next week (something I never thought I would say).

My husband is excited too, to have a big extended family. We are considered very young in our country to have kids, and now we know other young parents.

original post best to read first so it all makes sense

After taking on board a lot of your suggestions and advice I decided to invite both parents for a lunch at my house.

After the usual pleasantries we got down to business(never been a person to shy away from the hard conversations) I asked mom why she would feel the need to lay comparison between us. She said she felt a lot of jealousy,was often confused by our jokes and topics of discussion and I assured her that no matter what the girls would always choose her. (After all I am only 26 can’t keep a bf to save my life,literally vomited in a Uber on Friday after I got kicked out the club for beefing my now ex bf, like shit girl I am still a child,of course I know how to renegade and what rcu is). In fact I look up to her. I mean she has a wonderful husband, children,career,home and a great sense of style. And I told her this. (she was pleasantly suprised to hear me say this)

Somehow dad wasn’t aware of the conversation mom had with me and well he was very frustrated and angered by it all. He was telling mom that she crossed a boundary by going behind his back and in asking me to cut contact with the kids.

He felt I was a good influence and that since moving next to me that the children have become happier,more comfortable and less nervous. He has felt their bonds tighten and didn’t feel I was intrusive in fact the opposite as they often asked for my help and time. He reminded her how much she loved my notebooks and the recipe book I made for her. How much less stressed and worried she is now about doing the girls hair and caring for their skin. How they no longer cry at the thought of her brushing it because I let her practice on my hair for weeks and how honoured she felt that she was/is the first and only white woman to touch my hair(with permission)(her touching my hair took a lot out of me honestly )

I also brought up how the kids feel about having their names changed and how they didn’t feel connected to it. I explained the fear they felt whenever they chastised them for speaking in their language around them.

They said they thought they were helping them adapt to English faster this way and that this was advised to them, by the adoption agency. They said they didn’t have a clue that the girls felt like they couldn’t be themselves completely around them or that girls saw my house as place to be themselves in it’s entirety.

This of course led to a massive crying fest.

I asked mom if she still wanted me to reject them when they asked for me. She told me that she felt bad/regretted it since asking me and had hoped I would stay in their lives.

When the girls came from school they had a chat with them. The girls said that they saw me as neutral person and they weren’t worried of me leaving them if they told me the truth.(all we do is talk memes and watch tiktok, so yes of course they aren’t worried about telling me shit cause they see me as their age mate)

They thought not going along with the name change would get them “kicked out” by their parents. Or that they can only talk about life back in Ethiopia or their late mother and father when at my house without feeling bad for their current parents.

Their parents assured them it was okay to talk about their late parents and any memories they might have. And that they shouldn’t feel bad or guilty for needing a bit of my time. I did do some internet sleuthing and gave them contact details for several therapist and councillors who deal with adoption especially trans-racial/national adoption.

Lastly I’ll leave you all with some Ethiopian sayings on love,family and your duty as a fellow human being (very roughly translated as some words/phrases are untranslatable)

1. Not all love and family come from blood. Some are born of the heart. Nurture the heart and the heart will always be yours. Fail the heart and you have lost life itself.

2. A family is made of more then a few. Create your tribe for when you fail or fall, you’ll have others to help you rise.

3. Offer a hand,an ear,kind words and open heart freely for mankind has a right to you and you a right to mankind.

Oh before you all start thinking that I am some goody goody saintly woman- I stole candy from a baby yesterday,granted it was my nephew’s but still who does that? Please also know that I regularly insta-stalk my now ex bf and plan to insta-stalk him shortly with a bottle of wine!

I saw this on a Facebook page called "culturally fluent families" and thought you all might enjoy it:

"In transracial adoption circles it is common to hear parents say that they don't care about the race of the child or that they can love a child no matter the race.

CulturallyFluent Families must understand...

Parenting a child of another race isn't questioning if you can love the child. The question is can you teach the child to love the parts of him/herself that society fears, doubts, questions, and rejects?

Can you teach the child to externalize assaults on their blackness and micro-agressions and love themselves when they feel excluded because of race?

Can you teach your black child to stand in a room and feel secure and proud even when they are questioned about their abilities, intelligence, and integrity?

Can you prepare your child to embrace and cherish the blackness of their skin when their skin color is considered a weapon?

Can you teach them to stand up straight and use their voice even when others find their very presence intimidating?

Can you teach them how hard and how loud to push back and when to use silence as their greatest defense and protection?

Can you teach them to push through the pain of racism and to externalize the consistent and persistent messages of perceived inferiority?

Can you raise a child to value their blackness when they don't see you valuing and building relationships with people who look like them?

Can you give them the tools to access closed doors, insight to visualize their future and strategies and plans to stopover landmines, avoid trap doors, and complete their journey?

Can you teach your child to love him/herself and value their culture and community when the media messaging only reports negative information?

Can you teach your black child to look in the mirror and love the reflection they see?

Can you teach your child to see their birth and blackness as a beautiful and devine creation?

Can you teach your black children to love themselves, to value themselves, to define themselves in positive and affirming ways?

If you can't answer yes to this questions, you may want to identify the professionals, coaches, and groups that can you help you sort through these issues first.

If you have already adopted or are fostering use this list of questions to assess how well you are doing and what work you still need to do."

So I'm a black dude who was adopted by a white family as a baby and I fucking hate it. I was pretty much just raised as a white guy and was never given a talk about how I would be viewed in society and how to navigate this racial bias that i'm viewed through In America, and when the topic of racism did come up It was just talked about like some abstract concept not something that would be an actual day to day occurrence for me. This led to so many dangerous situations where I didn't understand the gravity of how my anger is perceived as a black man that could have ended badly. Also it makes no sense to adopt a black kid, yet still be so weird around black people in general, like my family never interacted with black people in any personal way, my parents had no black friends or even acquaintances that I could ask any advice from so it was just constant white culture around me with nothing else. This has made it so hard for me to connect with other black people now as an adult since I have no frame of reference for anything they talk about so It's hard to relate with them. And I'm suppose to be grateful for this shit? for what? being forced to cosplay an identity I'm not and never will be, having no connection to my race, being an outsider in both circles forever. Seriously white people, do not adopt a black kid just to fulfill your white savior fantasy, yet when you realize that there is much more that comes with it then just giving them a roof over their head and a safe place to grow, you act like thats too much too deal with.

I had a scheduled c-section on the 26th and I invited the family to be at the hospital so they could meet her right away. They hadn't told their son that they'd been successful in finding a baby to adopt because they didn't want me to feel like if I changed my mind I'd be disappointing a little kid, so I got to be the person to tell him he was getting a baby sister. He was over the moon. The whole time at the hospital just confirmed for me that they were the right choice, it was so clear that they loved that baby so much the second they saw her. I know the baby is going to have the best chance at a happy life with them. I'm so relieved it all worked out. There was a part of me that was scared that something would happen and the parents wouldn't want her any more or were no longer in a position to adopt and I'd be stuck trying to find new adoptive parents. I'm just so happy it all went well.

Edit: oof, I didn't spend the whole post referring to her as "the baby" to have every commenter call her my baby. She's not mine. I really do consider her to be theirs. This is just a personal preference. Thank you.

I was adopted as a baby. I’m proud to say I’m adopted and that my bio mom only being 18 made the choice that many others were so against. I have a wonderful relationship with her.

What’s pissing me off: I’ve seen MULTIPLE Tik Tok Live’s and Instagram Live’s of people who aren’t adopted and a few who are.

A woman from last night who I watched on Tik Tok doesn’t have adopted kids and isn’t adopted herself. She called herself a “adoption abolitionist” claiming that adoption is ruining America. That adoption is only about families getting what they want. She went on to read from a book I can’t think of the name of it and I wish I wrote it down, but from what she was reading it was fueling the ideas that adoption is just “legal human trafficking”.

I understand if you’re upset about how your story went or how you’ve seen things happen in rare cases. I truly feel for those who’ve been in those situations and wish them nothing but love. You’re taking away millions of kids opportunities by trying to ban or even abolish the foster care systems and adoption agencies.

I’m not here saying there aren’t flaws, I do wish they gave more psychological resources and gave parents a more trauma infused talk about what things can occur, but that doesn’t mean you can just go out and start abolishing all forms of adopting.

Edit: Holy cow, thank you all for your stories and your side of things. I’m someone who’s open to all sides of things. I didn’t expect this post to blow up the way it did

After being in a physically abusive home that caused life threatening damage for months on end (thanks police for doing nothing btw) and then being passed around foster care like a bag of crisps I was finally adopted when I was 2/3. My life might not be perfect and I have a lot of mental health issues due to childhood and drug use during pregnancy , but I’ll forever be grateful for the fact that someone decided to step up and take me in as their own and look after me. I’m now turning 20 and a mum of a little boy and a wife to a big boy. I have a lovely life that I’ll never take for granted and even though my adoptive mother and I won’t see eye to eye sometimes , she’s still my number one and my best friend and I love her to absolute pieces and I love my dad more than anything (he’s not like other dads he’s a cool dad). Please never give up on your dream ro adopt no matter what life throws at you. A little one needs you out there and you have no idea how much you might need them.