Posts Tagged ‘ Parent ’

Dad tells son (11) he’s adopted

An adoptive dad (who wishes to remain anonymous) reveals how telling his son the truth about his adoption has changed their family dynamics for the better…

I have two adopted children: my daughter, now 18, was adopted at the age of ten, and I adopted my son, now 11, when he was just three years old.

My daughter knew her biological father and had some contact with him before I adopted her, but they never really enjoyed a close relationship. After I adopted my daughter, she decided to break contact with her biological father altogether, even though I never discouraged their relationship. I wanted to make sure that she knew she could have contact with him if she wanted to.

My son did not know he was adopted until recently, when we decided he was old enough to know the truth. I was extremely reluctant to tell him about his adoption at first because he and I had a very difficult relationship, and I had also heard about so many adoptees who found out late in life about their adoption and the pain this caused.

I guess one will never know for sure when it’s the perfect time to tell someone that he/she is adopted; my wife and I made our decision based on our son’s emotional maturity level and readiness to hear this sensitive information. We asked a close friend, who is a preacher and counselor, to facilitate the process for us, as we knew our son would need access to someone he could trust when this life-changing information was revealed to him.

We approached the process as a family, and included my adopted daughter to support our son and be there for him should he have any questions or concerns. Although it was difficult at first, we believe that we can build a better family structure without having to pretend that we are something we are not.

My wife and I both suspected that Nathan (name changed) knew I was not his biological father, but I don’t think he understood his adoption and the complexity of the situation. When the facilitator revealed the information to him, he was not surprised, but became very emotional. That he was not surprised confirmed that he suspected the truth, but the complexity of the situation made him emotional.

As we spoke, the facilitator continually checked that Nathan understood what we were trying to tell him by asking him for feedback and examples. One comment Nathan made was that he knew I loved him, because of what we do and share together and that if I didn’t love him as my child, I would not have to do what I was doing for him then.

As a psychologist, I appreciated the facilitator’s effort to continually “check-in” with Nathan during the session to ensure he was okay and reassure him of the love our family’s and my, as his adoptive father, love for him. Nathan cried a lot while we talked, not because of his adoption, but because his mother was very emotional and he was the focus of attention in a serious matter.

This session firstly made me feel that I can be a father without having to pretend that I’m someone I’m not: I could be Nathan’s adoptive father and no longer pretend to be his biological father. Some may wonder why this is so important, and it’s difficult to explain, but it was important for me as I don’t have any biological children. Although I wanted to, I have come to accept that I will never have any. Pretending that Nathan was my biological child constantly reminded me of the fact that I do not have biological children and that I was living a lie.

Also, pretending to be someone I wasn’t caused me to push the children away, as indirectly and subconsciously I blamed them for my not having biological children. However, by telling and living the truth of being their adoptive father, I can make peace with not having biological children and be the real father to my children that God intended me to be.

For Nathan, not much has changed; he does not blame anyone or feel unloved. His standing in our family remains the same and he still regards me as his only father. He has not asked about his biological father and we don’t think he will for a while yet, but we believe that when he does, he will be ready to understand more about this complex situation. For now, he knows that he is adopted, and that this doesn’t change our love for him – he is our son, regardless of who his biological father is.

Should he want more clarity and information on his biological father later in life, we will support his decision, as we did with our daughter. We will never prevent our children from contacting with their biological fathers if they choose to do so.

Unexpectedly, telling Nathan about his adoption has positively changed my relationship with my daughter. We communicate better, trust each other more and talk about things we never could before. I believe that although my daughter knew about her adoption, she also never realised how much she gained by having a “real” father who cares for and loves her, and how much having a father and mother who love each other has changed her life for the better.

What was discussed with Nathan was not a surprise to her, as she already knew about it, but I believe that what her and her brother’s adoption has meant to them has helped to change her previously negative and antagonistic attitude and behaviour.

For my wife, the biological mother of our children, this session has helped her to realise what I was going through as a “secret” adoptive father. Her relationship with Nathan has also changed for the better – previously she always tried to protect him from the truth, to the extent of becoming over-protective, which hampered Nathan’s emotional growth as he was overly dependent on his mother.

I firmly believe that the truth has set us all free from pretending and living a lie. Now we are free to be who we really are and to build on a family unit regardless of the past. Finally, we can start building a family based on truth and trust. Because it’s not the blood in your veins, but the love in your heart that makes you a family.

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An adoptee writes to the birth-mother he never met

I was so touched by this letter from Kevin to his birth-mother, who he never got to meet, that I had to share it. I am sure there are many adoptees who have not reunited with one or both of their birth-parents and can relate to the emotions he expresses…

30 Seconds

November 16, 2010

A year has passed since I found out my birth mother died in 2003.  I never got to meet her and talk to her and over this last year I have had mixed feelings about that.

Part of me was relieved that I didn’t have to bathe in the tub of emotions that that meeting would’ve stirred up, and part of me is saddened that I didn’t get to hear from her what she was thinking and feeling all these years.

Recently, I was watching the Dr. Phil show and there was a woman on the show who lost her parents at an early age and she was dealing with so much years and years later.  Dr. Phil suggested she write a letter to that parent and share her feelings both good and bad as a way to deal with the emotional powder keg that was contained behind her rib cage.

I sat there and wondered it that would help me.  I wondered if writing a letter to my biological mother would help sort out some things for me.  Below is that letter.

**************************

Dear Helen,

I call you Helen because calling you mom just doesn’t feel right.

On October 24, 2009, I found out from an adoption angel via a text message that you had died in 2003.  Sitting on the cold metal bleachers at our local high school watching a football game I found out you died in May of 2003.

I searched my heart to find the right emotion to feel and couldn’t find it.  To that point, you were a stranger to me and I wasn’t sure how I should mourn the death of a stranger.  I really didn’t feel sad.  I was more disappointed than anything.

Over the last year, I have had some time to sort things out,  but the right emotion still doesn’t register.  When I think of my wife or my boys, I immediately get powerful emotions that fill my heart.  When I think of you, it just goes blank.

Part of the reason I think I was so hesitant for many years to look for you was because I feared being rejected by you…again.  I think even in death I still feel that.  I feel rejected because you never spoke about me to ANYONE.  When I ask your daughter/my biological sister, or your best friend what you said about me, they both say the same thing.  You never talked about me.

It is my understanding, your death was not a sudden death.  I can’t help but wonder why in those last months, weeks, and days, you didn’t speak of me.  How come you didn’t leave a message for me or tuck away in a private place something that you wanted me and only me to have.  How come you didn’t take 30 seconds to tell someone that I mattered?

There are days when I think the separation from me was just too painful to talk about and I try to spin it in a positive light.  Then there are days when I think, that you just didn’t care.  As a father, I can’t understand that.  I can’t conceptualize how that is possible; how you can have a child roaming the earth somewhere and not care or think about them.  I have no evidence that you did and more evidence that you didn’t.

In this past year, I have struggled with telling myself over and over that I matter; that I am important; that I am worthy.  I artificially construct and build up my self esteem that could have been raised to an all-time high if you would’ve taken 30 seconds to whisper to someone your regret.  Instead, I am left to do as have always done from as far back as I can remember; fantasize.

My imagination fills in the holes created by you that you were meant to fill.  My creative mind tells me you suffered in silence and thought about me on my birthday, and on Labor Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day, Memorial Day, The 4th of July, and again on my birthday in August.  Reality tells me I have nothing to support this fantasy.

Like a child on Christmas looking for that one special gift that isn’t there, I still wait and hope in some chest, some book, in your personal belongings somewhere, someone will find a letter written to me that kills reality and awakens fantasy.

These are the feelings, that surround me today and guilt drips from my fingers as I type these words.  As an adoptee, I have learned really well to protect others around me often at the expense of my own feelings and thoughts.  So I wrestle with guilt and push it into the nearest closet so I can express what I need to to protect me.  I needed only 30 seconds and I have a right to those 30 seconds.

Kevin

Kevin’s blog can be found at: http://mymindonpaper.wordpress.com/2010/11/16/30-seconds/

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