OMG I had never thought about the TESTS. So so many tests I had done on me in my youth. My adoptive mother had been a Registered Nurse so let your mind go there. I see now in many ways that was totally unnecessary medical abuse. Being adopted sucks so hard!!!!
I hear you, and I’m so sorry you went through that. It’s heartbreaking to realize how much unnecessary medical intervention so many of us have experienced just because of the unknowns surrounding our health history. When you add the layer of an adoptive parent in the medical field, I had an Amom who was also an RN so I know how that intensified things.
Being adopted comes with so many hidden layers of trauma, and the constant testing is just one of them. You’re right—being adopted can suck so hard, and it’s important we talk about this side of it too. Keep sharing your truth! Xoxo
You nailed it. I just realized that when I held my baby in my arms, was the moment I knew I had to find medical histories for my daughters. It took 20+ years and one breast, but eventually a full sibling found me. We need to change the system.
Thank you so much! Your story really hits home. The moment you held your baby and realized the need for medical histories resonates so deeply. I can understand how long those 20+ years have felt, but I’m so glad a full sibling found you, even if it came after such a difficult journey.
You’re absolutely right—we do need to change the system. Stories like yours are proof of just how critical it is to have access to our histories. Thank you for sharing that, and for your strength in this journey.
Thank you for writing about this. I could not come to terms at being denied this basic human right for decades until I was able to gain access to some information. I wrote a poem about this very topic recently.
Thank you for sharing, and I’m so glad the article resonated with you.
It’s truly heartbreaking to be denied something as fundamental as our own medical history for so long. I’d love to read your poem if you’re open to sharing it—it sounds like a powerful expression of the struggle so many of us face. 🩵
It beautifully captures the raw, aching absence of answers that adoptees often live with—an ache that becomes tangible in moments as routine as a medical questionnaire. The way you described the sting of questions and the haunting silence left by "access denied" echoes so deeply. This isn't just a poem; it’s an invitation into your reality, where something as basic as family medical history becomes a painful reminder of separation and secrecy.
Your words are a gift, a window for others to understand this unique kind of loss. Thank you for sharing your story so boldly—it’s voices like yours that bring to light what so many adoptees experience but may find hard to articulate. Your courage and honesty in expressing these emotions are truly inspiring. Have you thought about sharing it on Adoptee Remembrance Day?
Oh Pamela, thank you so much for your kind words, support and encouragement. It means such a lot to me for a fellow adoptee to feel what I was trying/hoping to express. No I hadn't thought to share it but will have a look after receiving your words. I'm an Australian adoptee from the Forced Adoption Era, we call it here, (born in '67) so wasn't sure if it would be appropriate to share but I think our experience is universal even if the circumstances/part of the world are different, the pain is shared.
OMG I had never thought about the TESTS. So so many tests I had done on me in my youth. My adoptive mother had been a Registered Nurse so let your mind go there. I see now in many ways that was totally unnecessary medical abuse. Being adopted sucks so hard!!!!
Hi there,
I hear you, and I’m so sorry you went through that. It’s heartbreaking to realize how much unnecessary medical intervention so many of us have experienced just because of the unknowns surrounding our health history. When you add the layer of an adoptive parent in the medical field, I had an Amom who was also an RN so I know how that intensified things.
Being adopted comes with so many hidden layers of trauma, and the constant testing is just one of them. You’re right—being adopted can suck so hard, and it’s important we talk about this side of it too. Keep sharing your truth! Xoxo
Pamela,
You nailed it. I just realized that when I held my baby in my arms, was the moment I knew I had to find medical histories for my daughters. It took 20+ years and one breast, but eventually a full sibling found me. We need to change the system.
Hi Sari,
Thank you so much! Your story really hits home. The moment you held your baby and realized the need for medical histories resonates so deeply. I can understand how long those 20+ years have felt, but I’m so glad a full sibling found you, even if it came after such a difficult journey.
You’re absolutely right—we do need to change the system. Stories like yours are proof of just how critical it is to have access to our histories. Thank you for sharing that, and for your strength in this journey.
We’ll keep pushing for that change together. XOXO
Thank you for writing about this. I could not come to terms at being denied this basic human right for decades until I was able to gain access to some information. I wrote a poem about this very topic recently.
Hi Gaye,
Thank you for sharing, and I’m so glad the article resonated with you.
It’s truly heartbreaking to be denied something as fundamental as our own medical history for so long. I’d love to read your poem if you’re open to sharing it—it sounds like a powerful expression of the struggle so many of us face. 🩵
Sure, I'd love to share it with you. Is it Ok to share here Pamela? 💖
That’s great! Thank you, and yes feel free to share here! Can’t wait!
When the Doctor Asks Me My Medical History
I stare out the window, turn to hide
my face, disappear into the seat, my hip
bone hard against the wood.
Diabetes, stroke, heart problems in the family?
the words sting like arrows. I shrug, my throat
chokes -
I don’t know, I’m adopted.
Separated from my mother at birth,
I lay in a dorm for unwanted
babies those first months, my identity
taken without consent, locked away in
a bureaucratic safe, a secret
marked confidential, access denied.
Did anyone hold me, rock me to sleep
there are no records to say, no
information left to show I was
loved, cared for, where I came from.
An outsider in my home, I was the one
who caught every cough and cold, every
stomach bug, skin itchy with eczema
and no one knows why I have asthma.
I wonder, did my birthmother clutch a puffer
in her hand, bring the acrid spray to her lips -
gasp for air as she climbed the stairs?
Hi Gaye,
Wow, thank you for sharing such a powerful poem.
It beautifully captures the raw, aching absence of answers that adoptees often live with—an ache that becomes tangible in moments as routine as a medical questionnaire. The way you described the sting of questions and the haunting silence left by "access denied" echoes so deeply. This isn't just a poem; it’s an invitation into your reality, where something as basic as family medical history becomes a painful reminder of separation and secrecy.
Your words are a gift, a window for others to understand this unique kind of loss. Thank you for sharing your story so boldly—it’s voices like yours that bring to light what so many adoptees experience but may find hard to articulate. Your courage and honesty in expressing these emotions are truly inspiring. Have you thought about sharing it on Adoptee Remembrance Day?
Oh Pamela, thank you so much for your kind words, support and encouragement. It means such a lot to me for a fellow adoptee to feel what I was trying/hoping to express. No I hadn't thought to share it but will have a look after receiving your words. I'm an Australian adoptee from the Forced Adoption Era, we call it here, (born in '67) so wasn't sure if it would be appropriate to share but I think our experience is universal even if the circumstances/part of the world are different, the pain is shared.