Plea to Adoptive Parents

As I mentioned in previous posts I was adopted at birth by two of the most wonderful people God has ever given breath to. There hasn’t been a single day that I didn’t feel loved and supported in every way by either of them, but I want to share my perspective and experience in case there are adoptive parents considering doing what my parents chose to do.

They kept the fact that I was adopted a secret from me.

I didn’t find out until I was trying to enlist in the Air Force in high school, and I was told sitting in the recruiter’s office at age 17. There had been clues throughout my childhood that never occurred to me to be credible so I didn’t question it, so finding out this way hit my like a brick.

I had a couple really important conversations with my mom and dad that day, and it took me about 2 days to snap out of the disbelief, but the point I kept coming back to was that knowing I was adopted didn’t change anything. If anything I felt more loved knowing that I had been chosen. I may have been an ‘accident’ to some other woman, but to my parents I was a gift from God.

My advice to adoptive parents is simple…
* be up-front with the child
* raise them to know about their history
* celebrate the fact they were adopted

They won’t love you any less and they won’t be any less committed to you…so don’t fear the notion that some day they may want to search for their birth-mother (which they may do, and I’ll save my story about this for another time)...because even if they do they are still your child.

My mom will always be my mom and my dad will always be my dad, and the fact that we don’t share DNA has nothing to do with that. Period.

Holding Hands on Flickr by Jedi Andy

Blessings in Disguise

Yesterday my seven year old daughter read my tribute to my dad and saw his Marine photo on the internet. Being impressed with the uniform and how handsome he looked she asked why I was never a Marine. I love it when she asks good questions.

I come from a long line of military men on both sides of my family, mostly Navy and Marine men, all of whom served with honor. The VFW hall was an important gathering spot during my bringing up years and so when I was in high school I decided I wanted to serve as well, but in the Air Force (rebel I know).

I met with a recruiter and initiated the process and was sent to Des Moines to be processed, poked and prodded and prepared for enlistment following graduation. The only problem was that for the previous 6 years or so I had suffered from debilitating migraine headaches. So sitting across the desk from the doctor as he reviewed my medical records I was asked "How often do you get these headaches?" to which I replied “Just 2 or 3 times per year.”

As he reached in his drawer and pulled out a big stamp he said "That's 2-3 times to many son.", and with that he stamped my file "Rejected", handed me the file and told me to follow the colored line on the floor that lead me to be discharged. A bus ticket was issued and I was on my way back home.

Clearly it was not God’s plan for me to serve in the Air Force and I’m thankful because of how different I’d have to guess my life would have been. I wouldn’t have gone to college right away, I wouldn’t have started dating my wife and wouldn’t have the great kids I have today.

I explained to my daughter that even though I was disappointed at the time I realize that it was the right decision because had I been in a situation where another persons life was at risk and I had been stricken with a headache I would have put that person further at risk.

The lesson for my daughter was that it's okay to not always get what you want, when you want it, and that with a little patience we usually discover that it turns out for the best. This lesson isn’t easy for a 39 year old to come to grips with, let alone a 7 year old, but it will be one I can come back to over the coming years as she grows.