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From this point on, this lady was very different with A. She was very kind but still somewhat reserved, but she always made a point to talk to her when she came into the room. She would tell her how pretty she was, and that her curly hair was beautiful. I sit wondering late that night long after she had went home, “Why did A. being adopted affect her and seem to bother her?” I wondered if adoption had been part of her past, she seemed to have such a hard time saying the word “adopt” I wandered if she had been a birth mother that had to give up her child. After our talk about A. adoption she seemed to be at ease and not so troubled. I was glad that I was able to keep from reacting from her initial questions, since the way she worded her questions (I have to remind myself that for the most part people are not trying to hurt with their words just sometimes it happens.)

I was asked a number of times, “Wasn’t us both being adopted kind of strange?” I responded, “I do not think so. I guess it may be strange to others.” This is not something that has come up with a lot of people, so most people do not know I am adopted.

We had an amazing nurse that cared for A. and we talked about her being adopted. She asked more about the effects of the drug use on A. and how at birth, she could do that to her own child. She has been the first person that said, “You both lucky to have found each other and have each other.” Which is the truth A. is not the lucky one we are both blessed to have one another. I believe that my children were born maybe by a birth mother but still born to be my children.


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