ADOPTION

My dad was adopted the day he was born. The story I've been told is my grandma (my dad's adopted mom) went to the hospital one day and unfortunately had a miscarriage. Then, fortunately, later that same day, my dad's biological mom gave birth to my dad but, for whatever reason, didn't want to keep him. So, the timing worked, and my dad went home that day with his new mom, who only hours earlier lost her other baby to a miscarriage. It's heartbreaking and beautiful, all at the same time.

Adoption was a lot simpler in the '50s.

My dad's family are his (adopted) mother, father, and two sisters. When people find out my dad is adopted, I'm often met with, "So, does your dad know his real parents?"

I understand what people mean, but my dad's real parents raised him, taught him things, tucked him in at night, and loved him. My dad's biological parents are the ones who gave him up for adoption (and there is nothing wrong with that). Hell, if my dad hadn't been adopted, he wouldn't have married my mom, and I wouldn't exist. I am thankful my dad is adopted, and I believe he is too.

This is why it is so essential for me to adopt. I want to give a child a chance at a life they wouldn't have been given otherwise. Even if I have no problem conceiving, I feel it is vital to provide a loving home for a child that needs one. This child would not be my adopted child. This child would be my child.

And if, at some point, he/she was curious about his/her biological beginnings, I would like to think I would be supportive of it.

My dad began his journey a few years ago to learn more about his birth. He wasn't desperate in his search, nor did he want to develop strong familial bonds, but he was curious. He learned who his birth parents were and that he had something like seventeen half-siblings. He got in contact with a few. I've also met some of them.

My dad jokes about the handful of siblings he has, but he told his sisters recently, "I have seventeen new siblings, but really... I only have two."