I was adopted when I was only 5 days old by my loving parents who tried everything to have children of their own but couldn't. Being adopted is not something that I think about all of the time. When I became pregnant my husband thought it would be a good thing to maybe find out who my birth parents were. The thought of that scared me to death back then. Really the only day of the year that I truly dwell on the thought of being adopted is my birthday. I guess I just wonder where my birth parents are, especially my mother and if she is thinking of me. Back in the 70's a father did not need to sign off on the adoption papers. So maybe my father does not even know that I exist. What a thought. A father out there somewhere who never thinks of you because he does not even know that you were born.
Now and again I will do some sort of search online to see if someone is out there looking for me. Butterflies in my stomach as I read through post after post of mothers looking for their long lost children that they hope to one day find and explain to them why.
I am not mad at my birth mother. If anything I am grateful for what she gave me. She gave me life and did what she thought was the right thing to do. For that, I thank her and will never forget her.
I may never look into her eyes or feel her warm embrace but she will always be in my heart.
