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So... Found out I'm adopted.
2 months ago
General
My dad told me I was adopted last night. He decided to tell me now, since he's had a few close calls and wanted me to know before he dies.
In truth, my birth father was a paramedic (identity unknown) who had an affair with my real mother, whom I knew as my aunt Lorene. She'd have been 37 when I was born in 1990. She gave me up for adoption because she was poor, working lifelong at the laundromat of a nursing home, and wanted me to have a good life.
My birth father had three sons and a daughter with his wife. It's possible I went to school with all of them, though nobody has any idea who they are. My adoptive father wanted to tell me, but my adoptive mother was afraid I'd resent my birth mother, her sister.
My birth father died of a heart attack in his late 30s, not long after I was born. He didn't want to be involved in my life at all and chose anonymity. I never got to meet him or know him.
My birth mother, Lorene, was constantly in my life as my aunt. Bought me gifts on my birthday and for Christmas, came to visit on special occasions, and kept me when my adoptive parents had to work or were in the hospital or something. When my adoptive mother died in 2009, she helped to fill that void until she herself passed in 2016.
A lot of things make a whole lot more sense, now. Like the fact that I don't resemble my adoptive father at all. But ultimately, it doesn't change anything. Who my birth father was doesn't matter. I never knew him; he didn't raise me. So... It's nice to know, but it doesn't really affect me.
Well, actually, it's kind of cool in a way. It's an interesting bit of personal history I'm just finding out about. I have half-siblings out there somewhere. Technically, I had two moms in my life. I'll miss thinking I was the miracle baby my mom had before she got ovarian cancer, though. :p
Oh, also, apparently *everybody* in the family knew. Aunts, uncles, cousins, distant relatives, and relatives by marriage. So, for what it's worth, they're really good at keeping secrets, I guess. At least up until recently. Well done to all my kinfolk, lol.
In truth, my birth father was a paramedic (identity unknown) who had an affair with my real mother, whom I knew as my aunt Lorene. She'd have been 37 when I was born in 1990. She gave me up for adoption because she was poor, working lifelong at the laundromat of a nursing home, and wanted me to have a good life.
My birth father had three sons and a daughter with his wife. It's possible I went to school with all of them, though nobody has any idea who they are. My adoptive father wanted to tell me, but my adoptive mother was afraid I'd resent my birth mother, her sister.
My birth father died of a heart attack in his late 30s, not long after I was born. He didn't want to be involved in my life at all and chose anonymity. I never got to meet him or know him.
My birth mother, Lorene, was constantly in my life as my aunt. Bought me gifts on my birthday and for Christmas, came to visit on special occasions, and kept me when my adoptive parents had to work or were in the hospital or something. When my adoptive mother died in 2009, she helped to fill that void until she herself passed in 2016.
A lot of things make a whole lot more sense, now. Like the fact that I don't resemble my adoptive father at all. But ultimately, it doesn't change anything. Who my birth father was doesn't matter. I never knew him; he didn't raise me. So... It's nice to know, but it doesn't really affect me.
Well, actually, it's kind of cool in a way. It's an interesting bit of personal history I'm just finding out about. I have half-siblings out there somewhere. Technically, I had two moms in my life. I'll miss thinking I was the miracle baby my mom had before she got ovarian cancer, though. :p
Oh, also, apparently *everybody* in the family knew. Aunts, uncles, cousins, distant relatives, and relatives by marriage. So, for what it's worth, they're really good at keeping secrets, I guess. At least up until recently. Well done to all my kinfolk, lol.
Regardless of whose seed/womb I came from, my adoptive parents weren't perfect, but they did their best to give me a good life. They spoiled the fuck out of me. I had everything I needed and wanted. That's way more than a lot of kids can even dream of.
Ultimately, I'm grateful. Grateful Lorene didn't have me aborted, and grateful to have had loving parents and a good childhood.