I have three adopted children: Rick, Tom and Anne. This story is not about them. It is about my husband’s Aunt Orpha, his Uncle Bill’s wife. She was from northern Ohio and has been dead since the early eighties. I met her soon after I married.
Aunt Orpha was a sweetheart. She put up with Uncle Bill. I don’t remember if she had been married before, but I think she had. She was a favorite of mine. Uncle Bill and Aunt Orpha would come from Hillsdale, Michigan, to our house to watch TV.
That was back in the day when there were only three channels and they all shut down after the eleven o’clock news. That was fine at first, but it soon became an almost every night event. That finally was too much of a good thing for me.
Anyway, here is the story she told me about her family and adoptions. Aunt Orpha was from a large family. There were at least seven children, all of stepladder ages with the youngest barely walking. Both of her parents passed away at about the same time. That left the brood needing homes. The children were all adopted out, mostly to family. I remember Aunt Orpha telling about the time she and her adopted family visited an uncle on her father’s side. She and a cousin were playing out on the wood pile. When you heated with wood, you always had a wood pile.
“Ya!, ya!, you’re adopted!” he would taunt over and over again, as if it was a bad thing. Aunt Orpha didn’t take it very long before she fought back.
“So are you! So are you!” He was a younger brother and didn’t know the history of their adoptions. “No, I’m not!” he screamed back. “Yes, you are!” she responded.
He ran into the house to ask his dad. “Orpha says I’m adopted! I’m not, ain’t I?”
His dad caught off guard by the situation, finally responded. “Yes, you are. You are Orpha’s brother, not her cousin.”
“You have always told me that you’re my dad. You lied to me. I will never believe anything you ever say again.” He stormed out of the house. There was no repairing the situation. He had never told his son that he was adopted. That ended their relationship.
I have always told my three adopted children that they were adopted. It is a special relationship. I picked them out. Other parents had to take what they got. I always taught them to pray for their natural mother, even as a small child. It is hard to give up a baby that you have carried under your heart for nine months.
Some adopted children are hesitant to search for their natural parents. They feel like it is almost like telling their adopted parents they weren’t good enough, that they were being unfaithful. Adoptive parents get caught in that trap when they mislead their children at a very young age. When is the best time to tell them? Right now, if you haven’t already done so.
Yes, being adopted is wonderful. They were chosen to share a new parent’s lives, but not to judge their natural parents for their decision. It is all in how the new parents handle it.