Adoptee Remembrance Day

October 30th is Adoptee Remembrance Day. You might ask why we need such an observance. The narrative you hear from society is that “adoption is beautiful”, “adoptees are lucky” and “adoptees should be grateful”. But the adoptees who gather in support groups and cling to each other for mirroring know that we are anything but lucky.

The pre-verbal trauma we suffer from being separated from our mothers at birth lives in our bones. Going unrecognized and invalidated only layers on the trauma. Gaslighting makes us feel crazy. We are expected to fill the needs of others and stay silent about our own experiences so as not to hurt the feelings of adoptive parents. When not given the full story of our relinquishment, we are left to make up the story in our mind. We live without medical history. If we choose to search for biological family, we brace ourselves for possible secondary rejection. We often don’t find validation until we find other adoptees.

Adoptees are four times more likely to attempt suicide than non-adoptees. Adoptees are overrepresented in rehabilitation facilities. Adoptees are victims of crimes committed by adoptive parents. International adoptees may not have legal citizenship and could face deportation on top of losing their culture, country and language.

Before I found the adoptee community I felt completely alone. When I heard the above statistics, I felt like I had been walking a tightrope, unaware of how close I was to falling into an abyss. I had never actively thought about or planned suicide, but there were times I thought it would be easier if I just didn’t wake up. On this journey I found out that is considered “passive” suicidal ideation.

Today, as a mom of 2, the idea of dying is terrifying. In fact, the idea of something happening to me, thus leaving my children motherless, almost stopped me from having children at all. All that fear stemmed from my experience as an adoptee. I knew what it felt like to be given away by my first mother. And I knew what it felt like to be raised with total lack of attunement from a complete stranger.

Adoption is complex and nuanced. I can’t say what allowed me to stay here on the earth while so many of my fellow adoptees have chosen to leave, but I do understand their grief and pain. And for that reason, I will hold them up on October 30th and will continue to speak truth to the adoption experience so hopefully we don’t lose any more of us in the future.

Big adoptee love to you.

Lora

This is a poem I wrote in 2020 and I shared on the first Adoptee Remembrance Day.

Broken Promises

You promised better, I got different.

You promised a blank slate, but I had names, history, roots and genetics that you erased. You pretended they were not there, yet I carried them with me, hidden inside.

You promised a piece of clay to be molded, but that molding only left me unable to fit anywhere.

You promised love would be enough, but it was not. I needed my genetics and DNA to complete my story.

You promised a baby, but I already had parents.

You promised love, I got lifelong trauma and confusion.

You promised a family, I got strangers, loneliness and hypervigilance.

You promised giving, but all you did was take.

You promised a mother, but no one could mother me except myself.

On the surface you look like success, but the wake you leave is vast and you have failed at keeping all your promises.

I hate you adoption. I wish I had never been your pawn.

But I see through you now. I am fully awake. I am fixing your broken promises.