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  • Pamela

My first five days...


I often talk about loving yourself. YOU! I talk about this, because I need to remind myself, to LOVE MYSELF. I personally think we are born from pure love, but somehow as we continue to be with other humans we start to doubt love, and question our worth. Possibly, some of us get hit harder with these lessons than others. I believe as we move through life, we are always moving toward finding true love within ourselves, the love we were born with.

Love started by giving me a chance to have a life!

My story as a transracial adoptee, love started by giving me a chance to have a life. My birth mother did not have it easy to get me to this earth. Rejection from family and society surrounded her as she grew me and loved me. She was a determined lady. She wanted to give me a chance. She sang, talked to me, and played Barbara Streisand and Bill Cosby albums as I grew inside her tummy. This was the voice and the love I knew as I grew. When I was born, I was taken from her, abruptly! She was put under the drug ether, and I was somehow pulled out. She never saw me, nor did I hear her voice, smell her smell, or feel her touch. Everything I knew was gone. Bam! Then my fantasy kicks in, I imagine there was this wonderful nurse who held me for 5 days while in the nursery. I’ve always loved to touch. I am a hugger. I often wonder what happened in those 5 days? Psychologists would say I went through trauma and abandonment. I coped by creating a loving nurse who saw me, and knew my birth-mother was down the hall crying, and feeling lost and abandoned herself. 5 days, of wondering, where is she? What happened? Didn’t she love me? Why was she not holding me? Am I not worthy? Was there something wrong with me? 5 days. This nurse loved me. She said I was worthy. My birth-mother said I was worthy, but the system said, “you can’t hold your baby, and you can not touch her, because she gave you away”. We were torn apart without guidance and counseling, and we never got to say goodbye. The nurse was my angel. Whether there was a nurse or not, God put her there, in my mind so I could survive until my adoptive parents came and took me home.

We all have a story. We all start somewhere.

Often as adoptees we are told by society how lucky we are that we have a home, and are cared for, and while we are loved by our parents, we can also feel we “owe them” something. Which can put a big feeling of guilt over us. Adoption is not easy, but we are learning everyday how to do it better. Believe it or not, for me with all of that beginning “baggage” I do feel blessed and lucky. As I’ve aged it has been really important for me to remember I was loved and wanted. I was given life. My angel nurse cared for me, and my parents gave me a home and loved me. How does this all translate now, as an adult? At times I will get triggered when I perceive someone is leaving me out, or when I feel not wanted. THEN, I remind myself, that I started out as love. I had someone who chose to give me life, and then others to love and guide me through life. I have to remember how I started- from pure love. No matter what has happened to you during this life, remember to Love Yourself! You are worth it.

#selflove #biracial #Adoption #transracialadoption #blessed #loved

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