ADOPTION | MOTHER’S DAY
The Unsung Heroines: A Buy-One-Get-One-Free Baby Kneels in Gratitude
Every day is Mother’s Day
Whether your children are yours through biology or adoption, they are yours through love” — Sadia Rebecca Rodriguez
On Mother’s Day, laud all moms and pay particular note to the women who willfully accept a non-biological child as their own — truly the unsung heroes of motherhood.
In my mind,
For giving birth does not define a mother.
Giving life and love, however, does.
In my home, history repeats itself.
Some cycles aren’t meant to be broken.
And, so it is, our family’s adoption tradition continues into the next generation.
For this, our hearts swell.
History of Adoption Practices in the United States
While the practice of adoption has been around for millennia, the recent history of adoption in the United States can be tracked to the 1850s, with the passage of the first “modern” adoption law in Massachusetts that recognized adoption as a social and legal process based on child welfare rather than adult interests.
My mom made the grave error of revealing the details surrounding my adoption when I was quite young.
And throughout the years, when she would remind me that I was chosen, special, and hand-picked to be part of our family, I’d quickly shake my head.
My hand hid my mischievous grin.
“That’s simply not true. You never even saw me. You took my brother in first and that paved the way for me.”
“I’m nothing but a buy-one-get-one-free baby.”
My assertion always makes us laugh, and I’ve repeated those lines for more than 5 decades.
It never gets old.
True story.
In 1963, the Children’s Home Society of NJ approved the adoption of my brother to my parents.
With no precedent on their books for placement of full biological siblings born 13 months apart to guide them, the agency contacted my parents in 1964 to reveal my newborn existence.
When questioned if they’d like to keep us together, my parents agreed.
My mom didn’t hesitate.
Because that’s what heroes do.
They commit to raising a child from another woman’s womb.
Adoptive moms willfully put themselves on the front lines — tears, scraped knees and broken bones, heartache, teenage angst, hateful words, all mixed in and bound with threads of everlasting love.
Adoptive moms throw caution to the wind and step into the unknown.
They bravely face their child’s curious nature to search for biological connections.
Worry courses through them, “Will they love their birth mom better than me? What if they now reject me?”
Adoptive moms play dodgeball with illnesses. With no medical background to lead the way, they live on the edge of high alert for proper cures and care.
“I hate you!” from a teenage daughter is a commonplace hormonal script that hits a little differently. (I am sorry, Mom.)
These heroes in the household shoulder numerous burdens that hold the potential for emotional devastation.
The undercurrent of knowledge — of how you all came to be together — simmers under the surface, rife with sensitivities.
Mom heroes step up to the plate regardless.
They are driven to mother.
Look how excited I was to have a forever family.
My brother?
Not so thrilled with my arrival, I suppose.
The classic adoption poem appeared on plaques, cards, and an embroidered pillow covering.
The words were never drilled into our heads but quietly displayed in our childhood home as background reminders to seep into our souls.
It worked.
Not flesh of my flesh
Nor bone of my bone
But still miraculously my own
Never forget for a single minute
You didn’t grow under my heart
But in it — Anonymous
EVERY KID NEEDS A FAMILY
“This KIDS COUNT policy report underscores a simple fact about childhood: Family matters. Yet, today in America, 57,000 children are still living in group placements… The end goal? Brighter futures — and loving families — for some of our country’s most vulnerable children.”
The statistic for foster kids needing families is atrocious. Imagine how much worse it would be without the saving grace, loving touch, and selfless hearts of adoptive moms.
My mom won’t read this, but I thank her anyway.
Every day.
She recounts horror stories of insensitive remarks regarding the pot-luck kids she was given.
Callous, thoughtless comments reminded her of her inability to bear natural children and cut her to the quick.
Shamed, angry, and defensive when a man explained how he would never adopt because who knows ‘what’ you’ll get?
My mom soaked it all in, spit out the unsavory outside influences, and persevered with her head held high.
Steadfast in her desire to be a mother, and resilient against hurdles thrown in her path, she stood strong in her conviction to give us a loving home.
My celebration of her will be highlighted on Sunday. I imagine her excitement will start when she escapes assisted living for a bit.
Her hands, decorated with age, will smooth her thinned hair to perfection.
Seafood is her favorite.
We will dine on crustaceans, of course.
Joining us will be my 5-year-old grandson.
His adoption proceedings are scheduled for later this year; we are a good team. My hero mom led by example.
In my home, history repeats itself.
Some cycles aren’t meant to be broken.
And, so it is, our family’s adoption tradition continues into the next generation and my grandson will have stability with me.
For giving birth does not define a mother.
Giving life and love, however, does.
For this, my heart swells.
I live in eternal gratitude due to the love my mom so selflessly gave me.
My mom, my hero, and my guiding force.
Heroes, heroes, everywhere.
Current studies report that approximately 135,000 children are adopted each year in America. This brings the current total in the United States to around 1.5 million children that have been placed in permanency.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms, whichever way they earned their titles.
Thank you.
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