It's difficult to decide on a beginning. Most life stories begin with, "I was born on..." , but is that really the beginning?
With my own children, I feel like their lives began many months before their birth. My middle child, my first son, my husband and I talked about him and his name before he was even conceived. It was as though his soul was created when we met. Then of course there was his conception, his life within my womb...his birth.
As a party of a closed adoption, that time of your life before "life" is officially acknowledged is lost. The date (no time or attending physician) of your birth is officially documented...a year after your birth. Your birth story is unwritten, untold. No pictures, no time you were born, no knowledge of the type of labor your mother endured. Nothing. It is a history lost.
In my story, there are two months missing. I spent 3 weeks in the hospital before I was released to foster care. After a month in foster care I was finally placed with my adoptive parents. The first pictures of me, I was already two months old. Who cared for me? Who held me? Who fed me? Who comforted me?
A history lost.
Not many people can remember their life as a newborn and I am certainly no exception. However, we are effected by all the experiences of our life, even the ones we do not remember. I never considered the early moments of my life until my own first child was born. Ironically, my daughter's birth marked the beginning of a conscious curiosity. For what felt like the first time, I wanted to know about my own first days and weeks without the comfort of my mother or even a consistent care giver. Who was my mother? Who were my nurses and foster parents? Where do I come from? What happened after my birth? What happened before my birth?
And that is where this journey begins...
With my own children, I feel like their lives began many months before their birth. My middle child, my first son, my husband and I talked about him and his name before he was even conceived. It was as though his soul was created when we met. Then of course there was his conception, his life within my womb...his birth.
As a party of a closed adoption, that time of your life before "life" is officially acknowledged is lost. The date (no time or attending physician) of your birth is officially documented...a year after your birth. Your birth story is unwritten, untold. No pictures, no time you were born, no knowledge of the type of labor your mother endured. Nothing. It is a history lost.
In my story, there are two months missing. I spent 3 weeks in the hospital before I was released to foster care. After a month in foster care I was finally placed with my adoptive parents. The first pictures of me, I was already two months old. Who cared for me? Who held me? Who fed me? Who comforted me?
A history lost.
Not many people can remember their life as a newborn and I am certainly no exception. However, we are effected by all the experiences of our life, even the ones we do not remember. I never considered the early moments of my life until my own first child was born. Ironically, my daughter's birth marked the beginning of a conscious curiosity. For what felt like the first time, I wanted to know about my own first days and weeks without the comfort of my mother or even a consistent care giver. Who was my mother? Who were my nurses and foster parents? Where do I come from? What happened after my birth? What happened before my birth?
And that is where this journey begins...
Cheryl, Your journey is worthwhile, and I hope you find some answers to your questions! I have been thinking about you. It is almost like, everything is colored by this "unknowing" and until you are satisfied with some answered questions, you will be thinking about all of this, which is understandable. Perseverance furthers... Love you, Anita
ReplyDeleteBest of luck Cheryl.
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