Today, I didn’t cry. I didn’t cry because something inside of me said “you got this!”. It was that still small voice. When I walked up the steps to meet my brother for the “first” time, I was not sure what to do, do I hold out my hand, do I lean in for a kiss on the cheek, do I hug him? Do I take the lead?
One of the things I have learned through meeting my real family is that Yes, I take the lead and I see them on my terms, but they were also greatly affected by my being adopted.
I walked inside and he gave me this huge hug. This hug lasted for a long time. He cradled my head and whispered my name. The last time I saw him was when I was about 9 years old….not knowing who he was because my adoptive parents didn’t want me to be connected.
I ascended the steps to the living area. I had met my aunt before, but this time, (kinda like last time) I surprised her. We were supposed to meet tomorrow (Wednesday) but it turns out my brother couldn’t wait that long to see me.
I had met my sister (I blogged about this and there is a chapter in my book about it) so I knew what to expect-sorta. This time, she was pregnant and radiant…she had gotten a visa. It is so hard as a Haitian to get a visa. Haiti’s passport ranks number 72 on the (value) index scale. So to get a visa, that is a huge deal. She was denied 3 times prior. I knew how she felt, my oldest daughter still has no gotten a visa. We are trying.
We sat in the living room and they had a million stories to tell me and I talked to them too about my life. One of the MANY things that stood out and made me want to cry was this.
“I prayed to be in your place” both my siblings said. They were poor and apparently my real mother was not a “happy” person. She dealt with depression, on top of that, poverty, and on top of that I WAS NOT MEANT TO BE TAKEN FROM HER.
When my siblings both said they prayed to be in my place, i turned and looked them both in the face and said…..I would have died a million times to be in YOUR place. I would rather poverty and happiness instead of riches and abuse and sadness.
When I told them that, their jaws dropped. They had swallowed the Kool-Aid. They too thought that my life was “Better”. They wanted my life.
The second thing that stood out was when my brother told me he was the one who named me. It made me warm and fuzzy and even more of a reason to keep this beautiful name I have Maline…..I will trade it for nothing…..
The last thing that stood out (and this about made me cry) was when my brother told me that when I was a little kid, my APs took me to finalize the trafficking, they went to visit my real family and I did not want to leave their side. I wanted to stay with them. My brother told me how they had to pull me away from them because I knew that they were my family. My mother would NOT have allowed the adoption to go through had she known.
To think that adoption can be such a terrible experience for EVERYONE except for the APs is truly tragic.
I am a joyful person today. I hope to continue to visit my family since they are now only 6 minutes away from me. I hope to hold my new niece when she is born in February. I hope to be part of their lives. There were too many years wasted……NEVER AGAIN.
APs…..who gave your children their birth names?
APs……did you children want to stay when you visited the real family? Did you have to pry them away?
APs….Do your adopted kids wish they were in their real family’s place?
You see APs….adoption does not just affect the adoptee, it affects the entire real family to some degree.