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Free Therapy

This time of year always gets a little touchy for me, but the touchiness is not nearly as bad as it used to be. In 20 days, Insh’Allah, I’ll turn another year older. My mom LIVES for this time of the year, because it is extremely special for her. I’ve always known this, which is why I’ve made it a point to smile and appear full of grace no matter how I felt. Through the parties, the families, the friends, the gifts, and all the joy that birthdays bring, there were many times I couldn’t tune into it all. The love and happiness were great, but I could never shake the thought of knowing that it was the day I parted from the girl who had carried me close to her for the first nine months of my existence.

There are certain factors that shape the way people live their lives and adoption has always been an important one of mine. I’ve always known I was adopted as far back as I can remember, although I don’t remember the exact moment when I was told or the words used to tell me. My parents have always been very open regarding the matter; never trying to keep anything from me, even when I didn’t want to hear it. Although I had many questions, I never liked talking about and always seemed to avoid the subject of adoption with my parents. I just never wanted to seem like I didn’t appreciate all that they had done for me by continuously bringing up the fact that I wasn’t a part of them, and honestly, I didn’t want to keep reminding myself.

My beginning, which is too accepted now-a-days, wasn’t as accepted back in the late 1970s. My biological mother was a fifteen year old girl and my biological father was a seventeen year old boy. I guess they thought each other was cute, he said the right thing to her, she ate the shit up, ba da boom, ba da bang, the stork is preparing for flight. She cared for me by caring for herself during the first nine months of my existence, but made a smart decision to allow someone who was better able to care for me to do so. My mother told me that she and my father were so excited when they got the word that a girl was putting her baby up for adoption and they were going to be proud parents, once again, in nine months. My mother said that they were able to plan for me the entire nine months as though she were pregnant, which was a very special and exciting time. So, I guess you can say we formed a bond even before we met. At three days old, I met my new family and I’ve been with them ever since. (Wait, now that I think about it, that should be a celebration day as well…hey, anyone who knows me knows I’ll find any reason to have a party).

I can’t say that it has been emotionally easy to deal with, but at the same time I am truly blessed that Allah (swt) blessed me with a wonderful family. As far back as I can remember, I’ve strived to be a benefit to them and not a burden, which is why I was always cautious of the decisions I made. I guess that’s where the “think about others before you think about yourself” comes in. I just never wanted them to regret the decision they made to adopt me, and for me, that always weighed heavy on my mind…too heavy at times.

My therapy session is getting kinda long, so I’m going to wrap it up. I just want to end with voicing my goal to adopt because I’ve always wanted to. I would LOVE to bestow the blessing upon someone else that was bestowed upon me. I also feel it’s important to be there to support the emotional side that comes with adopted children. It is such a blessing to have people in your life who love and care for you and consider you as family, but I’d be a serious liar if I said that the disconnection from that biological part doesn’t have an affect on me in ways I sometimes hate to admit to myself. If I can comfort that part of someone else, I am so ready. As I’ve gotten older, and truly began to understand that Allah (swt) is the best of planners, I’ve found it a lot easier to cope.

I could go on forever about this topic, but I’ll stop here before you all start charging me…

posted by Madeehah @ 11:46 AM