Can you imagine ever making a decision that had to do with bringing a child to a loving home? Well, Millie and her 14-year-old daughter had to make a tough choice. Her judgment changed her life and all those around her.
The only difference between me and a non-adopted child is that I just happen to have two more parents. Questions about my adoption don't bother me because I am not ashamed. Rather, I think of my adoption of something that makes me unique.
While race is definitely an obvious component in our family, it is not, nor has it ever been the driving force behind our relationship towards one another. We don't love each other in spite of our differences; we love each other because of them.
I am both an adult adoptee and an adoptive mother to a beautiful firebrand of a 6-year-old boy from Ethiopia. I love adoption. I love the whole messy, rich, textured, complex world it has given me. I do not love it because it is one long Disney happy ending.
Gary and Ellen are the proud parents of nine children -- one biological and eight adopted. The adoption of six of those children, a sibling group, occurred just before Ellen had surgery. She beat breast cancer. Gary and Ellen are clearly heroes. But we can all be heroes. And we must be.
The experience of visiting my orphanage struck something within me, and I could no longer deny the reality of the two places in China that I had a connection to. For the first time in my life, I saw myself as I truly was: a Chinese adoptee.
We sometimes don't think to talk about what should seem obvious. And so, for the sake of all our children, and especially in honor of November, National Adoption Month, please, teach your children well.
Just before I turned 21, I had a baby girl who was adopted at birth by an amazing couple. The fact that I have another chance to be a mom -- and more, that I get to be a mom to a little girl -- is overwhelming at times.
Lots of families celebrate the day they met their adopted child and became a family. But while I appreciate the love and everything else my parents give me, Gotcha Day can be a mixed bag -- one that leaves kids like me sad and confused.
I am acutely aware that for me to gain my family, two women across the world suffered a massive loss. I can't imagine their pain. I don't know what I would say to them. But I won't ignore that they exist.
When people say, "Those boys are so lucky!" I'm quick to counter that I am the lucky one, to be entrusted with their care. Maybe that's my sign at the grocery store, a succinct description of a single gay man who adopted older biological siblings: "Lucky-dad parking."
Sometimes, I feel surprised, mad, sad and scared by how attached you "still" are to her. I confess that I have counted the years that you have been with me vs. with her and wondered why the love and longing scales continue to tip so deeply in her favor.
I don't harbor resentment about being given up for adoption. I don't see the point, because constantly questioning my identity would just eat me up. Instead, I'm grateful, and I can't begin to explain how liberating that is.
Fifteen-year-old Davion Navar Henry Only has spent his entire life in Florida's foster care system. He's been moved from placement to placement throughout his childhood. For some children like Davion, foster care can last an entire childhood.
On Saturday, I celebrated the 26th annual Adoption Day at the D.C. Superior Court with several Children's Law Center clients as their relationships were formally recognized with a final decree of adoption.