Two Adoptee Voices, Part 1

I’m so thankful I get to share Nick and Tara’s stories with you.  I shared yesterday (www.amusingmaralee.com/2012/11/adult-adoptees-listening-to-their-stories/) about Tara’s influence in my life and I’d love for you to read that before you read this, just so you know what a blessing it is to get to hear her story.

I’ve known Nick since I was in high school (Rockets 4 Life).  Remember in high school how boys were mean?  How they teased everybody and put people down to make themselves seem cool?  Nick was never like that.  That’s what I always remember about him.  He was one of the few genuinely NICE people which means he always had a crowd of friends from all different walks of life.  Through the wonders of facebook we’ve been able to stay connected and it’s fun to see his love for his wife, his dog, his garden, his band, and his passion for helping kids embrace the joy of music.  He’s been a great support to me and has been willing to answer my adoption questions with a lot of openness and honesty, which is why I wanted him to share with you  (and also he has a great sense of humor, which makes it fun to read).  And in our family he will always be honored as the guy who first introduced us to the Parry Gripp video Baby Monkey (Going Backwards on a Pig).  You tube it.  You’ll be glad you did.

So, I know this will be long so I’ve divided it into two parts, but it’s absolutely worth your time to read.  I love seeing the juxtaposition of Tara (the soul of a poet and so gentle) with Nick (brutal honesty, practical). Dive in!

Tara- When my parents married, they knew they wanted children and a family.  They tried for years to get pregnant, but discovered along the way that due to my mom’s endometriosis and a few other health issues, they could be prevented from this ever happening for them.  It was after eight years of trying and waiting, that they began the adoption process through the nebraska children’s home society.

Nick-My folks were married in their twenties, but by the time they were close to 30, stable, homeowners, and ready to have children, something wasn’t happening for them. They tried — relentlessly they tell me (yuck), but could not get pregnant. They decided to adopt and found themselves waiting on a long list of other couples. When the time came for me to be born, they were contacted by the doctor who delivered me in Omaha, a family friend who knew my folks were looking. My adoption was penned between my birth mother and my parents, a closed adoption, and my parents went from being married to married with a kid in a matter of days. I can only imagine how fast it must have been for them. Nine months to plan or a couple days to prepare… They became parents almost instantly.

Tara- My understanding of “why” began at a very young age, when my parents began sharing my adoption story with me.  My mom laughs as she recalls joking that “the stork accidentally dropped me off at the wrong door”, but i somehow still found my way to the home where I belonged.  They told me from an early age that the mama who had me wasn’t able to take care of me, so she chose for me to be with a mom and dad who could.  What I understood as I got older, was that my birth parents never intended to be married or stay together.  She was only sixteen years old when she gave birth, and he was nineteen.  The decision to place me for adoption was a decision made by them both, together with my extended biological family, for reasons I believe were for my well-being, that I might have a better chance at life.  There is no information that suggests they ever considered another option.

Nick- My birth mother is the only one who could say. My adoption is closed. Like, black-ops closed. I only know that she was young, possibly in college, and that she just wasn’t ready.

Tara- As i grew up, details about my birth family began to unfold as I asked questions, and as my parents passed on what they knew as the time became appropriate to do so.  A little like a ball of yarn unraveling, as I understood more, my story became more real and increasingly significant.  When I was in my first year of college, I wrote a letter to my caseworker at the Nebraska Children’s Home, requesting any information or photos that they had on file for me.  Several months later, I received a reply with all of the information that they had, which was a letter containing two pages of facts that made up the beginning details of my life.  Just now, as I sat down to read the letter before beginning to answer these questions, I wept over it for the first time in many, many years.  I wept when I read that my birth grandmother was only one year older than I am now when her young daughter became pregnant.  I wept when I was reminded of how very similarly I must look like to birth grandfather and birth father, both tall with brown eyes and hair.  And I wept with a fresh look at these words once again, for the lives that were changed forever in this story, and for the joy and the pain that is so intertwined in it all.  The letter specified their physical descriptions and hobbies, labor and delivery information, and details of a family that I have never met but am forever a part of.

Nick- I have none and have never contacted my birth mother or had her contact me.

Tara- Due to a chronic health issue, I contacted my caseworker years ago to ask if any medical history information was available for me.  There was not.  At that time, she informed me that it would not be difficult to make contact with my birth mom to ask her for more medical information, but I would need to also be prepared for a response or request that she might desire more or more personal contact.  At that time, and even still, my confidence in pursuing further was uncertain, and it did not feel like the right time to do so.  If curiosity were enough reason to make contact, I would have done it years ago.  But I have felt a protection and believe there is a purpose in why I have not had peace about it, but I pray I am sensitive to know and understand what direction to take in the future regarding contact.  However, I do admit that I have googled her name.  You know, just to see 🙂

Nick- Yes, off and on. When I was in high school I was very much into the idea of finding my biological parents, at least to say thanks for handing me off. This bothered my mother a little bit. I could tell she was hurt a little bit when I talked about it. The older I got and the more I thought about it made me less and less likely to pursue a relationship with my biological mother. Trust me, if you have a child that is adopted, that child’s birth mother is someone they will think about for the rest of their lives. I never had to make peace in my mind over my adoption, but I think about her often. I get all weepy around my birthday and explain it away as dust in the eyes or that the pollen count is out of control. My birth mother is someone who cared that I grow up and enjoy life. I have always held her in high regard. The fact that my adoption was closed makes me feel that contact is something she doesn’t want. She was the one who made that decision in the first place, and she can also make the decision to find me. Maybe I was kept a secret for some reason. Maybe finding her means realizing my conception happened under a less than honorable circumstance. No one wants to think their existence is the product of rape or incest, but anything is possible. I hope its not true, and it probably isn’t, but my adoption is closed and I will honor that.  When I was in high school I was in the English offices doing some sort of paperwork for the teacher and searched her name on yahoo and a hit came back to a woman in Omaha, which is where I was born. I nearly puked. I shut the window and was in a daze the rest of the day.

Tara- They did not.  My mom and dad continued to try and hoped they might still get pregnant after my adoption, but it was not meant to be.  Due to a number of circumstances, including financial limitations and an eventual peace that settled, they found contentment in neither adopting again or pursuing pregnancy.  I remember sitting at the dinner table when I was just little, asking my mom and dad for a brother.  I wanted one so bad.  The way I understood adoption at that point was with the simplemindedness of a child.  As I grew older, I understood that it was not quite so easy as going to pick up a baby. But I would have loved a brother 🙂  I still very much wonder what it would have been like to have a sibling, and more frequently wonder if I have half brothers or sisters somewhere in the world.  This may be one of the things I am most curious about, but also something I may very likely never know.  I am thankful for good, dear friends, who I have loved and who I have considered as near to me as sisters and brothers.

Nick- Like many adoptive couples who were unable to have their own children, they had their own kids after adopting. So for me, my parents wait and my adoption gave me two sisters and a brother, all natural. 🙂 So something as strange as being adopted can be a catalyst for good things- things greater than oneself or perpetual questions. My parents got me, and a the large family they wanted. Pretty cool, I think.  I have two sisters and a brother and they grew up with me. I wonder what they think sometimes, but no, I never think about my possible biological siblings.  Thats crazy. I’ve NEVER thought about that.  I’d be down to bug my birth mom for a shot at a few more brothers and sisters.

Tara- My parents explained to me very early that my biological mom was too young and unable to take care of me, but that she made the bravest and most admirable decision, which was to have me and to give me to a family who desperately wanted a child but could not have one.  I cannot remember ever not knowing I was adopted.  They began to share with me, in the very simplest terms, as early as they thought I might understand the story.  I grew up believing that it was a special part of who I was, that I was very purposefully placed into their arms, and that they couldn’t have been more thrilled.  My mom and dad have never spoken poorly of my birth parents, but have instead explained and taught me about it in ways that gave honor and admiration to her/them for the very impossible, and certainly agonizing, choice that they made.  And even if this premise was wrong, I believe they still would have approached it in much the same way.  If the truth was not rosy or done with good intention, like my parents believed that it was, I am confident they would have nevertheless spoken in a way of love and gratitude towards her.  This, I feel, has been a huge piece to how I have experienced my being adopted.

Nick- I think a lot of who I am has developed from my adoption. I have always known, as far as I remember, do not remember my parents ever sitting me down for the conversation. I must have been very small and they filled me in along the way. Because some people choose to terminate pregnancies that are inconvenient or unwanted, I have always felt blessed just to be alive. I think everyone should feel that way as much as possible, but you know how some people are- always blaming and complaining- never savoring or loving or adventuring. It’s a good thing, I think- feeling lucky. Or blessed. Whatever you want to call it.

Tara- Because I look very much like my mom, it was never outwardly apparent that I was adopted or that I didn’t biologically belong to my family.  I did not grow up with physical reminders that I was different, however, I did recognize that there were differences both in nature and personality.  What became more important and meaningful, was that there were more-things-than-the-usual that made me me.  I was so glad to know I had an Italian, German, and Scandinavian biological heritage.  But I also liked to hear stories of my great grandparents who lived in the “Russian Bottoms”.  My adoptive family history is significant, because I am a part of the family.  And yet, while my history and where I came from is important, and stands for many who have gone before me, it does not yet define who I am.  It is not full of answers, nor will it ever explain why I am the way I am.  Only Christ is that for me.  I have felt connected to both my biological and adoptive history, but not out of necessity to be so.

Nick- I loved history in school and wound up with a History minor from UNL. I like historic movies and true stories, and it bummed me out when I was a kid when I realized that my grandfather- the highest awarded officer in WWII, wasnt really related to me. I was very proud of him, as screwed up as it made him. I have a great family with a fine history, but my personal family tree looks like a fire hydrant. I am me and me alone, and when I get all bummed out I get all introspective and wierd about it.

Tara- Yes, though not like you might think.  I would get teased because friends wouldn’t believe I was adopted 🙂  It must have seemed like such a crazy idea, years ago when adoption was not as prevalent or common as it is now, that I would have another mom and dad other than the parents raising me.  And that I so strongly resembled my mom gave an even stronger case for their argument.  I can’t remember ever being teased because someone was trying to make me feel bad about it or feel less than.  Maybe I was one of the lucky ones.

Nick- Yeah a little bit.  Mostly by people who don’t KNOW I’m adopted.  For a minute there it was hip for junior high school kids to tell each other they were adopted. I thought that was wildly interesting.  One of my students at Academy of Rock accused another student of being adopted and I was like HOLD THE PHONE.  I was mad, really mad.  I was furious, to be honest, but I had to remain cool so I could figure this out.  I knew it was some sort of off-color joke from a cartoon or a comedy show that this student (who is a great kid) was regurgitating.  I pulled the two aside and had a very frank and quick conversation with them. I was like “Look you two. I don’t know if you’re trying to insult each other or what, but I’m adopted.” I paused. They looked at me, horrified.  I asked them if they knew that, they said no. By this point, I hadn’t disciplined them at all — yelled at them, even raised my voice, but their heads were down. Physically, they were telling me that they were very ashamed, and possibly worried that they had insulted their instructor.  So I pulled them back out of it by explaining that it’s not a big deal. My birthmom was very young and couldn’t take care of me, so I got the family I have today and they are awesome. This was in my academy of rock class, so music and songs are key devices in explaining things or making a point.  And I asked them if they had ever heard “For A Loved One”. They had. I was like, you know what that’s about?  They thought it was about a girl or someone you missed a lot.  I said, that’s a song for my birthmom, because I’ll probably never see her. So hopefully she hears it one day and knows that I think she’s great and I love my life.  *minds blown.  They had no idea.

I’ve been meaning to say something that’s long overdue
I have been taking my time
Every new year I think about tracking you down
When the snow melts
Not again until autumn rolls aroundWould it be too unexpected to hear from me again
For the first time?
Just enough to say I’m doing alright

I think I owe you one for this
A brief history of everywhere I’ve been
Wherever you are now, it goes on and on

What have I got?
It’s easy to see
Just look at all of my friends
They have been with me for so long
My family will always welcome me home
From the road
They say I’ve made them all so proud 
For 24 years now

Would you find it too intrusive
To ask for just five minutes of your time?
Just enough to say I’m doing alright

I think I owe you one for this
A brief history of everywhere I’ve been
Wherever you are now it goes on and on
I think I owe you one for this
Wherever love is found
It will cross distances
Where you are now 
It goes on and on

Hold back emotion
And just let it happen
I’ll let the stereo play
While I wait for your reaction

It’s not a likeness that I’m searching for
Or a reconnection
More an exchange of words
Unlike an explanation
I’ll say, “Can you see the stars?
I see them every night
Above the wind and rain
Below those city lights.”

You won’t have to say a word
I wouldn’t trade this for the world