Personal Narrative: My Adoption Story

A long time ago, in about 2004, I was born to two drug and alcohol addicts. We lived in Plano, Texas, in a disgusting apartment. We had cat and dog feces everywhere, and overall it wasn’t the best environment to raise a child in. But when I was about four and a half, my mother put me up for adoption without telling me. I ended up being adopted by my aunt and uncle, but although being four and a half, I will always remember that day vividly, because that was the first day I had experienced real love.

I’m BACK! I was in school studying phlebotomy for the last month and a half so now I’m studying for the state test and hoping to keep up with my blog again! Sorry about that, I hope you missed me like I missed you.

I was fifteen years old when my mother invited me to help out with the local foster home. When I arrived at the foster home I began to cry in response to the young children that I saw. It was difficult for me to understand the children's emotions initially but throughout the day I learned the reason behind their joy. Most of the foster children were grateful for the little deeds that the volunteers performed for them because we showed that we cared about them. In all honesty many people take for granted the advantages they have for succeeding in life. The foster children that I've seen that day were limited because they did not have the physical and the emotional support of their families. I did not realized how blessed I was to have a loving

A new year had just arrived. I can still picture January in my mind, the mood was sullen and dark, I could feel the cold reaching my bones, but now I know that was the best feeling I‘d ever had. I had only a few weeks left to start college, which had been my dream since I can remember. My dad had already paid for my tuition, I was so exited I had promised to do my best. Then, I realized there was an obstacle in my way. I knew I needed to make a decision on whether or not keeping my pregnancy, it sounds rough, but it was definitive. I did not want to miss school, so I was definitely not taking this to the last term. I just could not think of myself being prostrated in bed for so long, as an impediment to start school. Never, nothing would

I’m in the prison line minding my own business as a few girls punch me. I did nothing to them, but that day i was getting out of prison and the girls get jealous if the others get out. The police are sending me to a foster home. My seventh one and i’m hoping it’s the last. My head is throbbing and there is a cut on the upper part of my lip. Before I leave I ask where is my brother you said you promise would never split us apart. The social worker finds my brother and he is taken out of the home he is in, now he is with me I feel safe.

I had a kid at a young age and many people said I would be a failure in life and would not be able to take care of my child and thought I should put her up for adoption. For me that was not an option, so I took it as a challenge to show everyone, that I could finish school, help take care of my child, and work

I remember as a teenager thinking I never belonged to this family, and that I did not fit in, and I never would. I admit, not looking like everyone else in the family was difficult. It was not just the color of the hair. Going through life, not truly being attached with your real parent. For people who are raised by their real parents, this is not a big deal. They grow up knowing whose freckles they have, where they got that chin, why they are talented in different areas. For me, living without that knowing, was a huge deal. Maybe it doesn't sound important to you, but when you do not know the answers to those simple questions, it really bothers you. Those of us from open adoptions deal with knowing a very little if anything about our parents.

It was five years into our marriage when my husband and I decided to adopt. We were told that I was infertile. We adopted a 3-year-old boy called Ryan. He was very kind and affectionate. He would often hug me and say 'I love you mommy'. We were happy; our little family was complete. I then became pregnant.

When I was a baby, my sister and I were placed in a foster home. I didn’t have a mother or a father, and while I did have clothes and toys, I had never felt the true love that only a parent could give. My sister and I lived in a foster home until she was 3 and I was 4. It was normal for us, and we never realized parental love was missing from our lives.

Another thing that has made a significant difference in my life is that my biological father passed away when I was only two years old. Because of a hunting accident, my dad’s life

Why don't I fit in with my family? That's the question I’ve been asking myself since I was eight years old. That question came up when my parents had my baby brother, his name is Elijah. Through my years I was picked on for having a white mom and dad. I never listened to them until I was 11 and a kid name Lilly asked me,

When I was thirteen years old, I gave myself a shot. I was never good with medical things as a child, like never wanting to take medicine and absolutely hating needles. Many children, and even adults, hate needles but they just have to suck it up and deal with it. That was what I did for most of my life, until I had a very bad ingrown toenail. My mother made an appointment with a podiatrist and off we went. I had no idea what to expect, and figured they could just remove it with not too much difficulty. However, the doctor informed me that removing it would be extremely painful and that my foot had to be numbed before he could do the procedure. Naturally, I freaked out, especially when he pulled out the needle. In my mind, the needle was a

When I was six months old, I was adopted from Vladikavkaz, Russia. At the time of my birth, Vladikavkaz was war torn, and Russia had just recently become involved in the Second Chechen War. Due to the dangerous conditions of Vladikavkaz, my parents could not come directly to my orphanage to meet me. They made the long trip to St. Petersburg where they met me, and at that moment at just six months old, they became the only “real” parents I have ever known. For as long as I can remember, I have known that I was adopted. It wasn’t some big reveal that I can recall, it was just always something that had been a part of me. It wasn’t until I was a teenager, that I realized the significance of my childhood and my adoption. I began to realize, that

In the beginning, my father was a man who worked his whole entire life, even up to a week before he passed away. He was very determined, smart, and indescribable. He was someone who would take his own life for someone else and helped everyone he met. All of the memories I have made with my father is significant to me. I have cherished each and every one, whether it was good or bad. Losing someone is hard and your life completely changes. Strengthening my faith in God has helped me the most through this tough time. No one said life was going to be easy, but the bumps in life lead you to become a stronger person. Since my father has passed away, he has made me change the way I look at life. Never take anything for granted and always try your very best. If you set your mind to something, you will become successful.

I never had a person show me love or take time out to spend with me. I experienced new things living with my auntie and I even began to start calling her mom. Not because I had to but deep down I seen her as my mother because she put a roof over my head and food in my mouth every night and showed me unconditional love. Going from not having anything to something is a big difference In my world because I grew up in the ghetto, homeless shelters, to having my own room, my own bathroom, A fridge full of food every day. I’m very grateful to be where I’m at now.