Born Addicted

I am adopted and wouldn't have it any other way. My story is simple, and a much happier ending than most.

When I was born, I was addicted to heroin. My mother was an addict, but was given a change to save herself and raise me. She couldn't do it. I was placed into foster care. I was passed around a few times, but I was an infant and found a lovely home. 4 years later, my biological mother gave birth to another little girl. She, too, was born addicted. She was taken right from the hospital. My foster family did not want her. In fact, they were looking for an adoptive home for me. I begged. I didn't want my baby sister to go to strangers. So, she came with us. There were other foster children in and out of the home, but my sister, another little boy from another family, and I were the more permanent ones. I went on regular visits to my biological family. I hated it. I was a good child, but when the social worker would come, I would scream, cry and even get violent. My foster dad had a way of calming me down and opening up my mind to see the bigger picture.

To make a long story short, there was a long court battle. My foster family wanted to adopt my younger sister and I so we didn't get separated. The little boy... his family didn't want him so they chose to adopt him, but waited to do so until my sister and I could be adopted. They wanted to adopt the 3 of us together, to make us a family. There was drama. There was child abuse and neglect on my biological parent's side. I remember when my future looked grim. I was told I would be sent back "home." Don't kid yourself. My real home was with my "foster" family. I considered them my real family. But the state considered "home" with the people who gave birth to me. My "parents" sobered up some, so there was no reason for us to stay in foster care. I was 6 going on 7. I cried every night. My foster dad took me on the back porch every night, and we wished upon a star, because that's how you talk to God you know. I wished with all my heart to be adopted because I didn't want to go back to my biological parents. Well, my "parents" couldn't do it. They could not give up drugs to sober up to be the parents we needed, so they lost their rights. Finally, I was adopted. My parents always told me I was special. They hand picked me, my sister and my brother. I believe it. I don't even feel like I am adopted. I have my family. That's what they are. My family.
youngambitions youngambitions
22-25, F
1 Response Dec 2, 2012

This is, by far, one of the best stories I have ever read ! I am so glad that you do not define yourself as an addict, but what you have risen above.
Keep your head high and continue forward as you have great strength and wisdom !
May you surround yourself with peace of mind always.