A World Away From Home
Q: Do you think you will ever meet your biological parents?
Q: Do you think your biological parents might look like you?
A: I want to believe so.
Q: Have you been back to Russia since your adoption?
Q: Do you want to go back to Russia?
These are some of the questions I typically get asked when I reveal to people that I was adopted. To be honest, I often forget that I was adopted. Well, I don’t actually “forget,” of course, but I don’t think about it as regularly as some adoptive children do. My parents never treated me any different than my brother. My adoptive parents, Susan and Ernie, are just as protective of me as they are my brother, who was not adopted. I have never, even for a fraction of a second, felt left out. Nor will I ever. My mom and dad raised me to the best of their ability and did one heck of a job. The beauty in my adoption is that I will always be able to say that I was adopted with a smile on my face and a twinkle in my eye.
Meeting my biological parents was never a serious desire of mine. I choose the word serious because some adopted children constantly struggle with not knowing who their real parents are. They feel like they have been abandoned and left out of their ‘adoptive family.’ This colors their outlook on the world and can often lead to depression. They find themselves in inner turmoil wondering how and why their birth parents gave them up. I consider myself lucky because I do not feel this way. In fact, I feel extremely grateful and loved. I am a crucial part of my family and I understand that to the core of my being. Who knows where I would be if it weren’t for my adoption.
Although I can easily tolerate not knowing who my parents are, I am still inquisitive. As I grow older, I become increasingly curious about what my biological parents look like. Yes, I want to know about their physical features. I want to know how tall they are. I want to know if they have the same hair and eye color as me. I want to know if their personality is similar to mine or far removed. It may just be that the closest thing to knowing what my parents look like is comparing what I looked like when I was ten years old, to what I’ll look like when I’m fifty. It’s only in fleeting moments like this that I wonder what they look like and what kind of people they are. Now, this is the time in which I really begin to stretch my imagination. If I had to guess what my real mother and father look like, this is what I would say: Mother: She’s 5’1 (I’m 5’3). She has light brown hair (I’m dirty blonde). She has hazel eyes (I have blue/green eyes). She is muscular (just like me). Father: He’s 5’7 and muscular. He has light blonde hair and brown eyes.
One troublesome matter that all adoptees have to come to terms with is not knowing about any health risks they may have inherited. When I go in for a physical and I have to fill out my parent’s health history, it’s then that I am reminded that I have no idea of my genetic makeup. Does heart disease run in my family? What about cancer or diabetes? I do my absolute best to eat as healthy as I can and exercise to ward off any inherited risks. That’s all we can ever really do, isn’t it? I have to be pro-active and set my mind straight. Worrying gets me nowhere and only increases whatever risks I may have.
The last question that I presented at the beginning of my post in the ‘FAQ section’ is one that I think about most frequently and that is – “Do you want to go back to Russia?” Yes, I do. When the time is right, I will go back. I’m curious about my “homeland” and what my reaction to it might be. Will I be happy? Will I be sad? Will I be frustrated? Who knows. But, I do know for sure that someday I will be able to answer these questions truthfully and with dignity. No matter what anyone says, I’m certain that I am the luckiest girl to be able to live in a world where I am free – the beautiful United States of America.
Beautiful story and person. Maddie, this is what I love about you – your honesty. As my family is blended and a bit of ethnicity melted in, I see my blood line – meaning inner self of being a Doyle in my family that is adopted. I can imagine your birth parents as you described but I see your mom in Russia looking into your eyes and knowing that Alex and your dad are going to love you as much as she did the moment she laid eyes on you. Your parents are the luckiest to have you as their daughter. And Chris is even luckier to know and love you! Stay true to who you are!!!