I was adopted from Russia when I was six months old. My biological parents were seventeen years old and they were in high school at the time. My birth mom was seventeen and had barely any support. She wasn’t financially stable and she was not in a good place in her life. Her circumstances were less than great to say the least, but she still decided she was going to say yes to beauty and say yes to life.
From that my birth mother placed me for adoption in hopes I would be a part of a loving family. And I was! Growing up I always knew I was adopted. My parents did a great job making it something I just knew. We had little aspects of Russian culture around the house; we celebrated family day; and I remember getting children’s books on adoption as a kid.
As children, we see things very different than we do now. I understand the logistics of raising a child. The emotional and financial aspect. I understand at that age she wasn’t ready to be a mother. But as a kid, I saw things very differently. As a kid, I didn’t really understand adoption. I knew what it meant, but I didn’t really get the logistics of why someone would be unable to take care of their own child.
For a long time, I thought that since I was “unplanned” that I was a “mistake.” I constantly wondered if there was even a plan for me since I was unplanned. In my little kid brain, I didn’t understand how someone could just ‘give up’ their child. I couldn’t fathom how the two people who brought me into the world, didn’t raise me. I thought they didn’t love me. From there a lot of misconceptions and hurt were placed in my heart. I often wondered what that said and meant about me.
After a lot of self-reflection and prayer, I realized how much my birth mother actually loved me. I came to this realization: A birth mother has three options. She can choose to have an abortion; I wouldn't be here right now; she can give birth, but choose to say "no, this is my child and I don't care what kind of life she has, she is mine and I'm not going to let her go," and be completely selfish, but my birth mom chose the most selfless option, adoption. And probably the hardest; she chose to carry me for nine months, give birth to me (through all that pain and suffering) and then hold me in the hospital room, look me in the eyes and say "I love you so much that I can't keep you."And so she kissed me on the head and said goodbye. It was that decision which was out of pure love and how my life started. She gave me a way to some people who could provide for me and give me everything she couldn't. And my parents received me as a gift and took me into their home.
Me being adopted was not any kind of abandonment or terrible rejection. There was absolutely nothing wrong with me. There is nothing wrong with anyone who is placed for adoption. I never chose to come into this world; no one did. Being given the gift of life and being placed for adoption only meant one thing about me: that I was loved. Looking back, I can see what was wrong in my thinking. I failed to understand being placed for adoption was total and complete love from my birth mother. It was just a different kind of love; a more profound love actually. I understand that to God, there is no such thing as an unplanned. He has always had each one of us in His heart forever. No one is a mistake. No one is disposable. Our worth is not how we were conceived or what has happened to us in our lives.
Today, I have found so much purpose in walking with other adoptees on their own journey's of healing. I have such a passion now helping adoptees realize that they too have a purpose and a plan in their lives regardless on how they were conceived or what has happened to them in their lives.