The Bonds of Adoption

Many people would say that blood is thicker than water. Although this is the obvious truth scientifically, I don't agree with the connotations of the phrase. My family is adopted, both legally and unofficially.

Many people who are adopted as infants or small children search endlessly for their biological family. Their, as some say, true family; a link to who they really are. While this is neither wrong nor right, the circumstances surrounding the adoption can be a hard thing to digest until you're well into your adult years, and what is found at the end of this search very rarely resembles something off a Hallmark mini series.

When I was a child I sometimes dreamed of my biological family. I imagined a life where everyone could understand everyone else; a life that was not burdened with the complexities of various personalities and varied backgrounds. Not having a biological family of my own, I assumed that families who shared the same gene pool would understand themselves better. As I grew up, I learned this was far from the case but it took years before I could finally see it.

My biological family was a web of adoptions and children's homes. Finding a blood relative seems nearly impossible in some cases because of the adoption laws that have changed over the last hundred years in the United States as well as the paperwork that has been lost, misplaced, or otherwise filed in some dark basement in some courthouse that has been moved three times. I spent a good portion of my time faxing, e-mailing, and calling courthouses or government agencies for certificates of births, deaths, and marriages. I searched on the Internet for anyone who could have connections with the people I had written down after asking my biological father if he could remember anyone in our blood family. My biological mother had been given for adoption at birth, so she had no information for me to go on. I found nothing of interest or with any leads anywhere, although my fervor for this grew. Finally, years after I had started searching, I gave up. Not out of frustration, although that should have been reason enough.

Recently my biological father went hunting for his blood ties and what he found was far more confusing than the stories he remembered from childhood. Perhaps in some ways this is a good thing because it allows for more medical data to be explored, but is it so important to know who your 'true family' is when you've already grown up and made a life for yourself? Some say no, yet others feel it adds to who they are and helps them understand themselves better.

After years of searching, trying to understand who I was and where I came from, I finally accepted that I was not just a product of a gene pool; I am a human created of a gene pool, but raised by my adoptive parents who gave me everything they could including the support to find the blood family that I might care to find. I have the tenacity of my mother - my true mother - my adopted mother. I have the drive of my father - my true father - my adopted father. I have the friendship of people who are so close to me I call them brothers and sisters. I have a family, so my need and desire to find my 'true family' leads me to my photo album filled with people who do not share my DNA, but share experiences with me. They've seen me laugh and cry, watched as I grew up and go through experiences that no human wishes on another, and most of all, they have been there with me through it all even when I'm at my worst. They have accepted me, and that is why I love and accept them in return.

Family bonds are something that I feel is forged in the trials of life, strengthened by the acceptance of only being human, and polished with a love that runs deeper than any vein. Sometimes these bonds are legal, sometimes they are by blood, but many times they are by choice; two humans accepting each other entirely, regardless of what that relationship is - friend, sibling, or spouse.