Incomplete Story, On Being Adopted
An incomplete story, no matter how lovingly presented, runs the danger of being perceived as surreal. Pg. 44, Journey of The Adopted Self.
Boom, my life. it started with my mother being vague about the significance of my history of my birth parents. With her acting as if adoption was as jolly as the cheerios on the table. Honey-nut.
My birth mom was a secret to her birth family, too. Because she was a sin, done by mistake. Rectification was losing her forever. And never letting her see her family. Her adoptive Mother conducted this.
But the reason the adoptive, infertile mother keeps it a secret is for herself. From sparing herself from her own pain of not being able to have a child. It is too sad to face so she gets to pretend too, in the face of "protecting the birth mother from exposure as a sinner."
Boom, my life. it started with my mother being vague about the significance of my history of my birth parents. With her acting as if adoption was as jolly as the cheerios on the table. Honey-nut.
My birth mom was a secret to her birth family, too. Because she was a sin, done by mistake. Rectification was losing her forever. And never letting her see her family. Her adoptive Mother conducted this.
But the reason the adoptive, infertile mother keeps it a secret is for herself. From sparing herself from her own pain of not being able to have a child. It is too sad to face so she gets to pretend too, in the face of "protecting the birth mother from exposure as a sinner."
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