The title of this article says it all. Being adopted for the second time was hard because I was afraid that it would not work out for me. Sometimes I feel that people think itís horrible when I say, "Iím adopted." Sometimes they seem to gasp when I say the word adoption. Thatís right adoption. You know, when someone wants to give a child a chance at life because the person who gave that child life didnít have the means to give that baby boy or girl what he or she needed. Perhaps the person who gave life to the child tries and in some cases abuses the child.
After I was taken from my birth parents I went through the system as a foster child for a while. Then someone wanted to adopt my sister and me and they got us. After two and a half years with them they relinquished their rights as parents saying they couldnít handle the responsibility of being parents. So once again my sister and I went through the system. We got placed in a home for a while. Then the state social workers decided to separate my sister and me and they did no in a manner that to this day I dislike. They got the family we were living with to take my sister to dinner without me. And then I was taken away before my sister got back. And so thatís what happened. We didnít have a chance to say goodbye. I got placed in a different home from my sister and I thought I would never see her again. But I did every once in a while. Then she came to live with the family I was with. After about two years they decided to adopt us.
I donít think I was too keen on the idea because I was afraid that they would say later on that they couldnít handle the responsibility of being parents. The thought had spooked me so much that I turned into a beast and tore my room up. I broke the glass over the pictures on the walls. I threw clothes and my desk drawers all over the room. I overturned my desk and bunk beds and punched holes in bookcases with my fist. An eleven year old boy doesnít usually have much strength but I think the past experiences with the first adoptive family set me off.
I ran away after I was done trashing my room. I was not ready to try or trust
another adoption. I ran to a friendís house and told him why I was at his
house and that I was going to the house next door because I knew it was
abandoned. The only way I was found was by a phone call that my friendís dad
made to my parents and to the cops who were looking for me.
The police entered the house and found me in a bathtub with my knees to my chest. They cuffed me because I was trespassing on private property. They took me back to the squad car and put me in the back seat. My current father was there to talk to me. The cop took me to my house and said he was not going to put me on record. And thank goodness because I knew what it would mean and mess up my life.
The next day was the big day. We went to court and went through the proceedings. The judge asked my sister and I in private if this is what we really wanted. My sister said, "yeah," and I said so too after I paused to think about it. And Iíll tell you what. If it hadnít been for my friend, my caseworker, and especially my parents, who adopted my sister and me because they love us. If not for them, my sister and I would probably still be going through the system. Thank to all who have been there for me.