Familial Bonds and Adoption
A maternal bond is instinctual. The oxytocin released in the mother when she holds her baby for the first time is a chemical reaction that proves that love is supposed to be natural for one's child.
To me, this is a foreign thing. I cannot understand the automatic connection that blood family has, because for me it was always in question in the back of my mind. I thought, does my mother really love me if she is not my real mother? Can she really have the same feelings for me that she has to her biological child? I questioned my relatives bond with me as well. But the whole time, my mother was intent on ignoring the subject of my adoption, and if there were any thoughts of it raised she was quick to say we were loved just as much there was no doubt, and that we were truly a family.
This messed with my mind a lot. Because in my mind there were still doubts, and if she was saying there was no difference between me and the rest of the world, it made me feel like I was wrong. The confusion with myself grew and grew, until I just gave up and accepted that I would never be right about anything. I would never fit in, and everyone would deny that and I would have to live with the lies. I felt CRAZY and ANGRY. And schizophrenic, just like my birth mom.
I have such a hard time dealing with family now, too. When I heard about my birth family and spoke to some of them, I had a hard time convincing myself that it was my real family because of all the voices of the past saying I belonged in my adoptive family. My birth sister reinforced this fear by saying that we WEREN'T truly sisters because we didn't grow up together. I believe it was her own rejection and anger at her lies told to her as well.
So now, all of us siblings in the world are just floating around, confused as to what we are to each other. We get close, but push back suddenly because it does not seem to be real. We are not real, we do not have those feelings of connection. But sometimes I'll get a rush of affection for my birth siblings, and want to get close to them. But the next day it's gone, and I'm left alone again.
The same happens with my adoptive sibling. I'll feel totally disconnected and angry at her because of our fight, telling myself there is no connection at all, birth or not. Then I'll come across a warm memory and feel like crying all at once and calling her. But I can't because she does not understand my disconnection and anger towards her either.
This is how it is, and I hope one day I will be able to feel more understanding towards both my families, and not just feel not here or there with either of them.
My own daughter brings out the most confusion for me. I look at her with love and empathy at times, and know in my soul that she is mine and nothing can break that bond. But then I face my childhood beliefs that there is no such thing as mother-daughter bond, and I get confused. Is what I feel here real? Then I am left with anger all over again at the lies I was told, and the secrecy of adoption being different than your own biological child. Because although they wanted to believe I was the same as their own biological kid, they forgot that me, as a kid, did not know of that need. And my needs were to understand what happened to me, and my identity as an adopted child growing up without knowing her real parents.
Love,
A Broken Adoptee
To me, this is a foreign thing. I cannot understand the automatic connection that blood family has, because for me it was always in question in the back of my mind. I thought, does my mother really love me if she is not my real mother? Can she really have the same feelings for me that she has to her biological child? I questioned my relatives bond with me as well. But the whole time, my mother was intent on ignoring the subject of my adoption, and if there were any thoughts of it raised she was quick to say we were loved just as much there was no doubt, and that we were truly a family.
This messed with my mind a lot. Because in my mind there were still doubts, and if she was saying there was no difference between me and the rest of the world, it made me feel like I was wrong. The confusion with myself grew and grew, until I just gave up and accepted that I would never be right about anything. I would never fit in, and everyone would deny that and I would have to live with the lies. I felt CRAZY and ANGRY. And schizophrenic, just like my birth mom.
I have such a hard time dealing with family now, too. When I heard about my birth family and spoke to some of them, I had a hard time convincing myself that it was my real family because of all the voices of the past saying I belonged in my adoptive family. My birth sister reinforced this fear by saying that we WEREN'T truly sisters because we didn't grow up together. I believe it was her own rejection and anger at her lies told to her as well.
So now, all of us siblings in the world are just floating around, confused as to what we are to each other. We get close, but push back suddenly because it does not seem to be real. We are not real, we do not have those feelings of connection. But sometimes I'll get a rush of affection for my birth siblings, and want to get close to them. But the next day it's gone, and I'm left alone again.
The same happens with my adoptive sibling. I'll feel totally disconnected and angry at her because of our fight, telling myself there is no connection at all, birth or not. Then I'll come across a warm memory and feel like crying all at once and calling her. But I can't because she does not understand my disconnection and anger towards her either.
This is how it is, and I hope one day I will be able to feel more understanding towards both my families, and not just feel not here or there with either of them.
My own daughter brings out the most confusion for me. I look at her with love and empathy at times, and know in my soul that she is mine and nothing can break that bond. But then I face my childhood beliefs that there is no such thing as mother-daughter bond, and I get confused. Is what I feel here real? Then I am left with anger all over again at the lies I was told, and the secrecy of adoption being different than your own biological child. Because although they wanted to believe I was the same as their own biological kid, they forgot that me, as a kid, did not know of that need. And my needs were to understand what happened to me, and my identity as an adopted child growing up without knowing her real parents.
Love,
A Broken Adoptee
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