Skip to content

National Adoption Awareness Month: Guest Post

November 2, 2012
Kymberli is a former client of mine. She is an adoptee as well as an adoptive momma. I am so blessed that she has graciously and beautifully shared her heart with us.
I HAVE THIS BOX
by Kymberli Thurman
I have this box.
It holds parts of my past. Parts of my present. Parts of my future.
And I don’t take it out very often, but it is always a part of me.
It influences the decisions I make.
It determines some of the choices I hold most dear.
It reflects a large part of my personality.
It holds some of my deepest, most primal emotions.
I have an adoption box.
Two, actually, an inner box and a physical box.
In my physical box, over the years it has grown.
At first it held a beloved paper with a few facts of my birth parents…names and other identifying features blacked out.
Then, at 34, I met my birth mom. My box grew…faces of people who looked a little like me. Blanks filled in.
A meeting that led to contact with my birth father’s family…more blanks filled in and the box filled up with pictures and parts of the past.
This box sits high on a shelf. I do not pull it down very often, and I do not share it with many people. But I am always aware that it is there.
And I am thankful for the answers it holds.
My inner box goes with me wherever I go.
When I was younger, adoption was my birth story….
Intrinsically part of who I am, but filled with questions and blanks.
I did not feel different, because I was LOVED. I just had a different story.
As I grew, I felt different …at odds, like growing out of my skin…
and as many questions as I had, my mom was there to answer.
Not just about adoption, but about life, love, God, the world.
And my dad was there to laugh, play games, teach me how to bat, drive and be patient….
And my box was full.
Then, in college, I wrote a paper that brought to the surface a lot of the questions I kept shoved in the box.
And I talked to the agency, who gave me the same paper my mom had given me.
NOT HELPFUL.
But I did find out I could add my information to their file…their box.
And life went on.
And I got married.
And babies were born.
And more questions came with the not knowing.
Then I updated the information at the agency. And life shifted. The laws changed. I could search through the agency.
The all-knowing agency.
The ones who kept my information in their box.
And at 34 I was given the names of my birth parents.
And the lid was blown off my inner box.
After talking with my birth mom, all the emotions that I had never felt as a LOVED child, suddenly rose to the surface.
I was giddy. I was relieved. I was confused. I was sad. I felt raw and exposed and on trial. I felt anger.
But mostly, I grieved.
I grieved for my birth mom. I grieved for my birth dad.
I grieved for my birth dad’s parents, for they had been grieving since their son died in Vietnam, never knowing that he had a daughter.
I grieved for my parents, who, without adoption would not have been parents.
I grieved for myself, for the decisions made that changed my life.
I grieved for my birth mom’s kids, whose reality shifted when they were told about me.
I grieved because I did not know how to deal with so much grief and uncertainty.
I grieved for all the answers.
For months I tried to understand this new reality to who I was. Did I change? Did adoption change me? Was I still me? Why? And Why? And Why?
Then,
something amazing happened.
I realized that I had no control over the decisions made before I was born.
I did not “own” those decisions.
I could not change anything.
And, really, I was LOVED.
Loved by a birth mom, who gave me life.
Loved by a mom and dad, who showed me life.
Loved by Jesus, who gave me life everlasting.
Loved by my husband, who completes me.
Loved by my children, who bring me joy daily.
Loved by my birth grandparents, who gave me their blessing.
Loved by my friends, who love me for who I am, even when I wasn’t sure who I am.
And so, I carry my inner box with joy.
Filled with heartache, grief and loss.
But also filled and covered over with LOVE.
And, that LOVE makes all the difference.
It would take a lifetime to write all that I think and feel about adoption. It is a blessed mess. It is wonderful. It is God’s love for me lived out. In writing, I feel conflicted, because in sharing my grief, I do not want to hurt any of the people I love. But, in sharing my grief, I share the love that my family and friends, and most of all, Jesus, has for me. If you are thinking of adoption for your family, I would encourage you to pray and learn as much as you can about the different types of adoption. We adopted a newborn in the United States. We have family members and friends who have adopted overseas. We have friends who have adopted through the foster care program in their state. There is not one answer for every family. There are 147 million children in the world who need a family. Please consider making one or two of them part of yours.
Kym is “one less” and her son who joined their family through adoption is now also “one less”.  Adoptee becomes adoptive mom, passing on the blessing.
Advertisements
5 Comments leave one →
  1. November 3, 2012 3:18 am

    Beautifully written!

  2. Wilma Pickens permalink
    November 3, 2012 10:41 pm

    Beautiful story, Love Mother

  3. November 6, 2012 4:34 pm

    Kym, this blog is so fantastic. I did not know you were adopted and so glad you were and that your birth parents loved you enough to keep you alive. This world without you would not be as great. You are blessed with a wonderful hubby and a family who would not be here without you. What a blessing you are. Thanks for passing it on. Love you

Trackbacks

  1. I have this box.
  2. Adoption Stories: Week 1 « From the Heart

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: