This is a tribute to my birth-parents: because of their unconditional love I am able to share my passions with the world: I thank you from the bottom of my heart: An essay for school.
The night before I couldn’t sleep, I lay awake tossing and turning. What was I to expect? What was I to call them? Mom? Dad? I will never forget the day I hugged my birth parents for the first time in a mid-sized chain restaurant; I was 12 years old.
“But why?” I often recall asking my mom, when the subject of being adopted came up. “Because they loved you honey,” she would patiently reply.
Ever since I can remember my parents have been nothing but honest with me concerning adoption. For that reason I have become comfortable openly talking about adoption.
I always find it funny how when a person I know discovers I am indeed adopted, they are always afraid to ask questions. Now I know they are just trying to be respectful but I have nothing to hide.
My parents being honest with me has caused me to come to admire the both of them as I have grown older. I realize that not all children are as lucky as myself. I have heard stories of adoptee parents who have hid the fact from there children that they were adopted.
This saddens me deeply. Being adopted is nothing to be ashamed about. I am truly grateful for how my life has turned out thus far.
My birth mom at the time of her pregnancy was not married to my birth father, their relationship anything but stable. Receiving news that she was to have a boy, she began to think. She couldn’t stand the thought of me not having a father.
A father to play catch with me outside in the backyard. A father to take me camping on the weekends. A father to give me the always dreaded “birds and the bees” talk.
For this reason my birth parents agreed, for my own well being that I was to be put up for adoption. For my birth parents to put up their only son for adoption, shows how much they loved me. To do what they did must have been one of the hardest things they had ever done; but when it came down to the future of their baby boy, they knew what they had to do. To this day I thank them.
My parents always wanted to have kids, and like many other families adoption didn’t even register in their minds. They tried to have kids the “normal” way. Nothing. They tried again and again and again. Still nothing.
Finally after a visit to the doctors they discovered having biological kids was not part of God’s plan. For a couple whose only dream was to raise their own children this discovery became as my parents recall “one of the lowest points of their life.”
Biological kids may not have been in God’s plan, but the man up stairs had something else up his sleeve.
My parents still distraught over their inability to have their own children had no where else to go, they turned to prayer. It wasn’t long before their prayers were answered, in a form a of a phone call. A friend of my mom, who ran a daycare center, knew of a lady who’s sister was putting her baby son up for adoption.
My parents jumped on the bandwagon. With in a few weeks I was in their hands. Who said not being able to have biological kids was a bad thing?
It was finally the day! The day I was to finally meet the two people who brought me into this world. I picked out my favorite pair of jeans, a nice t-shirt, and a sweatshirt in which an outline of snowboarder gracefully covered the front.
My dad, Mom, little brother, my cousin, and myself were to meet my birth parents for lunch. I had been waiting for this moment all my life. Who was I going to look more alike? My mom? My Dad? My mind was bombarded with questions on the drive (which seemed like forever) over to the restaurant. We got to the restaurant and parked.
With every passing moment my heart began beating faster and faster for reasons I can’t explain. At the last moment I became scared, so scared I almost couldn’t move. We opened the door to the restaurant and walked in. Off to the side there was a couple with a table reserved. The couple, my birthparents.
The next few minutes are hard to recall as it all happened so fast. All I remember is hugging both my birth mom and birth dad and feeling a sense of joy fill my body. I was the luckiest kid in the world. I had four parents who would give the world for me. I had seen pictures of my birth parents as a child but nothing beat a real life photograph of them.
We continued on to have a lunch which was filled with lots of questions, none concerning adoption of course. What was my favorite color? (blue) and so forth. I can honestly say that was one of the best meals I ever had.
Every day I thank God for how things have turned out in my life. It is amazing how our lives are a mere result of cause and effect. If one small piece of my past was altered it would change the world today. I respect my birth parents for giving me up, for doing what they thought was right at the time. This is a pure act of love.
To say they were successful in providing me with a good life would be an understatement. They provided me with the best life a kid could ask for.
I also thank God for not allowing my mom and dad to have biological children for if that were to have happened, I would have not been adopted by some the most loving parents in the world. I wouldn’t be who I am today with out their guidance and knowledge. This is all part of God’s plan and I wouldn’t have it any other way.