Adoption, and Family Bonds

6 thoughts on “Adoption, and Family Bonds”

  1. I was adopted at the age of six. My birth mother was well I won’t be shy to say that she was a drug hazed whore who slept with anything with a penis. I know for a fact I have a half brother in China, yes China! and goddess knows how many other siblings. The man who was my father might not of even been my father. Well I bring this up for a reason. I was adopted at the age of six by a woman who was my social worker who fell in love with a malnutrition little girl who was in dirty clothing. My bond with my adopted mother is stronger then any birth parent, though I will comment that we don’t worship the same way but that has nothing to do with it.

  2. i am a mother of two children i had the good fortune to grow in my own womb. however, my second was brought into the world via an emergency c-section. he also spent a month in a NICU, part of that time in an incubator attached to many & diverse pieces of life-saving & sustaining equipment. i had to pump my breastmilk & it was given to him via a machine. some people will say that because of all that we also are not properly bonded. that’s a bunch of bullshit. i sat in that effing hospital for weeks, holding him to my skin as much as would be allowed, with all the probes & wires & tubes. people can say whatever they want, but you have it damn straight Anne. what makes a mother is what you are willing to do for your babies. it’s what you put into their upbringing; the love, the sacrifices, the effing commitment to them & their success, their happiness & their survival. it’s a great deal more than just getting them into the world. it’s being a mama bear & doing what it takes, not just pumping out pupae.

    whew! /rant off.

    1. I agree. I’ve seen in the wild animals ‘adopting,’ young – some not even of their species! If you want to – look up the mother lioness who adopted a faun!

      I just got miffed, is what happened. I want to scream ‘open your damned mind!’

      Ok, I’m off for some rum and ‘daily squee,’ because I need some adorableness right now.

  3. My son’s birth and resulting aftermath were so awful that to this day (ten years later) I still have PTSD, and was damn lucky to survive at all. (C-section, golden staph infection in the wound…) I didn’t ‘bond’ with him (hooray for untreated post partum psychosis) until he was 18 months old. He’s autistic, epileptic, has ADHD, a chromosome abnormality and an intellectual disability. And he is the most wonderful thing in my life, and I would crawl through broken glass to make him happy, and I would die a hundred times over for him if necessary. THAT makes me a mother, not the fact I am genetically related to him, or that I birthed him. People who claim some kind of superiority because they managed to squeeze a kid out make me froth at the mouth. [/end rant]

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