Tuesday, 23 September 2014

I think my son was hoping he's adopted


I think my son was hoping he's adopted
23 September 2014

So there I was, pleasantly minding my own business, enjoying a bit of me-time in a lovely, relaxing bubble bath, when my youngest stomped into the bathroom.  Stomped I tell you!  Never mind knocking, or quietly asking if he can come in.  Like an invasion, he burst through the door, nearly taking it off the hinges, banging it against the wall.

And asked me The Question.  You know – The Question.

“Am I adopted?”.

My mouth was still flapping open and closed, and I hadn’t even had a chance to reply, before he said,

“Are you keeping a secret from me?”.

I’m not entirely sure what he was aiming for?  Was he hoping I’d say ‘yes’ or ‘no’? 

I mean, let’s be honest.  We’ve all had that moment where we’ve thought – “Please Lord, let me not really be related to them.  Is there an escape clause here somewhere?”.

And so, I did the only logical thing.  I gave him the honest truth.

“My boy, I can’t lie to you.  I’m not keeping it a secret any longer.  I’m sorry that I’m the one that has to tell you, but you’re not adopted.  You really do belong to us.  I grew you in my belly.  And Daddy and Mom (that’s what all my kids call my mom, their granny), were there when you were born.  And everyone took lots of photos and a video too.  That baby is you.”.

Still, I wasn’t convinced what he was aiming for.  My answer seemed to satisfy him.  Yet he demanded that Grant show him the pics on the computer in any rate.

I remember this so clearly as a child.  Wondering if I was actually adopted.  If everyone was keeping a secret from me.

And I think it’s probably very normal.  And for a while, I think some of us really cling to that hope.  Until you realise that you do indeed have your dad’s nose.  That your hair is the exact same colour as your mom’s.  And that your sister looks a bit like you (maybe she was adopted too?).

I absolutely love my family.  The one I was born into.  As well as the one I gave birth too.

And I suspect my Cole is delighted that we’re his real family.  Until he becomes a teenager.  In which case he’ll be seriously bummed, that there is no out.  He’s stuck with us.

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Visible proof that I grew Cole


  1. Helene, you are not adopted........
    It is true...
    I am sure most kids have a twinge of fear that they are adopted...
    Then that it is true and that some of the maniac family
    blood courses through their veins....