Adoption stories can help different characters in the adoption process including birth parents, adopted children and adoptive parents. They can help people decide if adoption is for them at all either putting them off something that would not have suited their circumstances or firming their resolve to go ahead. It is not only the adopted child who experiences loss and trauma in the process and the more we talk about adoption openly and honestly, the better off people in the process will be.

Adoption Stories

The first thing to say is that no two adoption stories are the same.

Even the reasons a birth mother will have for giving up a child will differ.

What is it like to be a friend or colleague of an adopted person?

How do adopted people cope with the education system?

Do adopted people struggle to form loving relationships?

Is it important to celebrate the day you were adopted even after you have lost your parents?

There is so much loss in the adoption process and some victims are forgotten such as a sister who loses her siblings to adoption.

There are birth fathers who perhaps never find out they are dads and there are those who were not given a voice in the adoption process. How do they feel?

What is clear that bare statistics can never tell the full adoption and fostering story.

Here’s to adoptive parents who give children a second chance.

Adoption UK is a charity that is a great diving board into the world of adoption.

Are you involved in adoption? Would you like to share your story?

Post Comment Love

Jacky Ha-Ha Book

Mum Muddling Through

National Adoption Week – a birth mum’s tale
I know she doesn’t understand. She will blame me I am sure. I can’t see her. I can’t face the upset it will cause to my family. What will she expect of me anyway? I can’t be her mum now. It is too late for that. What good would it do?

I had her in the Sixties. It is true that they were swinging and I had a great time in the dance halls of London. Away from Ireland, away from my parents, being young and free.

I thought I was in love. An Irish lad of course. A plumber by trade and a great dancer to boot. We talked of marriage. I was probably young and daft. I fell for his charm and was easily led. I don’t like to talk about it but he hit me. In the end, I decided he was not a good bet.

The problem was by then I was pregnant with his child. I had to hide it from Mammy and Daddy. This was difficult as I usually went home at Christmas every year. As I was due in mid-December, I had to say I was working over Christmas. I don’t know whether they believed me. They never knew about their grandchild.

He came to see his new daughter and said she was beautiful. A big baby with curls and soft skin. We argued though and he went away. I don’t know where he ended up.
My daughter went to a Yorkshire family. I told them to make sure she had a big garden to play in and to keep her in the Catholic faith.

I had to take my baby up to Yorkshire and hand her over to the nuns. I left her with a blanket and a doll I had bought her. I wonder if she still has it. (SHE DOES BY THE WAY)

Cuddle Fairy