 by Hannah Andrews This month’s theme is “Luck and Adoption,” and it’s sure to spark conversation across our Peer Support Groups. We offer free ZOOM peer support for adopted persons, first parents, adoptive and foster parents, and DNA discoveries. Just send an email to aka@adoption knowledge.org specifying the group you identify with and you’ll receive the ZOOM invites. We have monthly themes, but you’re always welcome to speak on other topics in addition to, or instead of. As for me, here’s my two cents on “Luck and Adoption.” My first thought was UGH. Like many (most?) adoptees I’ve been told ad nauseam how very lucky I was to be adopted. By relatives, friends, total strangers, society, the media, and the entire world. Yet, even though I knew I was “lucky” to have ended up with the good, supportive, loving parents I landed in. Many adoptees do NOT land in safe homes, this should be the least of what we are guaranteed as adoptees–safety and love–I am aware of the privilege fate granted me. I also always knew that even that was pure happenstance. Total coin toss. With another figurative coin toss on top of it. My adoptive parents had received a call about a baby girl (not me) on a Thursday, set up an appointment for Saturday morning, and guess who showed up at the agency Friday? Me!
“Another baby girl has arrived. You can have your choice.” They chose me. Sight unseen. It was an age thing. I was younger. This I’ve always known. It’s part of my story. Lucky, lucky me. That photo? It’s me on my fifth birthday. I’d just wiped away tears before the “say cheese” part.. I was always wiping away tears on my birthday and I never knew why. I had most everything a kid could want. Two cool brothers. Nice parents. Big family. Pets. So, why the tears? “She’s so lucky…But she cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart. If there’s nothing missing in her life, then Why do these tears come at night? ” -- Britney Spears, “Lucky” Yes, I just quoted Britney Spears, who hadn’t even been born when I was a kid crying over my cake, but that song’s been bouncing around my brain for years and was one of my first thoughts when I got this month’s theme. Britney is not adopted, but she was certainly what the world saw as lucky, what I looked at as lucky. I knew she actually spent years working, training, taking dance classes, auditioning, so I didn’t think of it of pure luck, but luck nonetheless. What a glittery, rainbow world she must live in. Her song, “Lucky” was released in 2000 when she was a giant superstar, and it’s about some supposedly other random superstar crying in her pillow. But of course, that singer named Lucky she references is her, the message seemed not so veiled. What’s she whining about? I thought. How ungrateful. She was gorgeous, and talented, had a cute boyfriend, and would go on to make a zillion dollars. So very lucky! Well, a couple of decades later what did we find out? Well, the “Free Britney Fans” knew it long before the rest of the world but I digress. She was NOT SO LUCKY, life wasn’t so perfect. As it turned out didn’t even have any control over the money she earned, suffered from post-partum, was at war with her family, and her kids were taken. And more than one cute boyfriend did her dirty. She was miserable. She likely cry, cry, cried through her gazillion-dollar Las Vegas residency. But lucky. And a star. I saw Britney perform during her Las Vegas residency. I lived in Vegas. Because of course, I did. Where else would this lucky adoptee move? I didn’t gamble, I just loved Vegas. I loved the Neverland of it all. A town of tourists and transients, a city built on sand and sin and empty promises? Sign me up! Vegas at least lets you in on the joke. It tells you who it is. You just have to listen a little. This town wasn’t built on winners, they’ll tell you. The house always wins, they’ll tell you. But have a lucky day, they offer, because hey, you might, but luck, at best, is still fleeting. But back to adoption, and me, and being lucky. What if I had been lucky from the get-go? What if my first mother would’ve gotten pregnant with me at 25 instead of 15? And she was married or in a supportive relationship with my father? She’d have finished school, and been financially stable. Maybe we could have lived happily ever after as a family. Maybe I’d have brothers and sisters and a big extended family of cousins. Or if not that then: What if her family would’ve stepped up, helped support us while she finished school, went on to college or maybe entered the workforce? Relatives would’ve provided childcare assistance. My dad would’ve provided emotional and financial support. Happily ever after… Or if not that then: A relative would’ve adopted me or provided legal guardianship and I’d have still known my mother. Or my adoptive parents still adopted me but we had a totally open adoption, I knew blood relatives, knew my medical history, had genetic mirrors, and maybe even kept my original name. OR, okay, okay…If not any of those how about… You get the picture. There was a whole lot of bad luck before I got to good luck. When all else failed yes I did get lucky. All else failed and then I ended up with amazing parents. But still-- I had nightmares as a child, wet the bed as a child, wet my pants TWICE in Kindergarten. I resembled no one in my family or community. When my parents sought help for the myriad of issues I suffered as a teen, from eating disorders to suicidality, they were brushed off. No adoption-competent therapist. I lost everything (my mother, heritage, medical history, genetic mirrors)before I gained anything in adoption. Adoption wasn’t built on winners. Lucky? Not so much. I’m still trying to break even. Thanks for reading, Hannah Andrews AKA invites you to hear from members of the extended family of adoption and the surrounding community. While we take great care in curating the content please know:
1 Comment
3/6/2024 07:55:48 am
Thank you Hannah! I love this essay. Adoption is so bittersweet with both good and bad luck. Leave a Reply. |
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