Yesterday (April 1st) was my birthday and I turned 41. It was far less dramatic than it was last year. Turning the big 4-0 is a scary thing! It was a good day however, and my family celebrated with me without my turning into a crying mess. My birthday is somewhat unique, in that I was born on April Fool’s Day, and I was also adopted. Kind of ironic, isn’t it?

I was adopted at the age of five, but was given to foster care as an infant. My biological mother was unmarried, and was 26 years old at the time of my birth. I know nothing else about her, and I know absolutely nothing of my biological father. I found out later (through many questions I’ve had from my foster parents and the adoption agency that took care of my case), that she didn’t sign her parental rights immediately following my birth, which is why I was placed in foster care. I believe she wanted to somehow figure out a way to take care of me, because she would occasionally go to the orphanage to check up on me, but would never say anything to me. She wouldn’t even know which child was hers when she came for a visit. She would have to ask the caseworkers which one was me, and apparently she would stand there watching me, but never made an attempt to go any further than that. Once she finally gave up her parental rights, I was adopted in Ohio and my life as I know it, started at that very moment (That is another story that should be written, but it is not the main topic of this post).

I have no animosity toward my biological mother whatsoever. In fact, if anything, I respect her greatly. She gave me a gift….a gift of life. At a time when being pregnant out of wedlock was looked upon as extremely unheard of, she did the best thing she could for herself and for me. I’m sure it was a devastating experience for her, as giving up a baby would be for anyone. The only thing that I regret the most, is that I do not have any medical history of either one of my parents. I would like to know if she has a history of depression (It would make things a lot more clear for me if I had that information). I would like to know if I should be aware of cancer or any other disease that could be passed down from one family member to the next.

On days such as my birthday or special holidays, I often wonder if she thinks of me. Does she have those nostalgic moments where she wonders what I have become? Does she ever wonder if she is a grandmother? Does she ever wonder if the parents who adopted me were good people? Has she ever considered trying to find me? All of these things are questions that will never be answered. Although I was adopted into a good family, there is a certain hole in my life which cannot be filled, and sometimes I feel as if I do not know who I am.

But I digress…

April Fool’s Day has been a tradition since the 1500’s and is marked by doing practical jokes and hoaxes on people to embarrass the gullible. As a child (before anyone knew that I was adopted), my friends would find out that my birthday was on April 1st, and immediately go into a tirade of jokes they thought were hilarious. “Ha ha! You were born on April Fool’s Day? Seriously?? You were a joke!! Your momma didn’t really want you!!” Now you might think this is a cruel thing to say to a youngster, but I knew how to play the game back. I would look very seriously at them and with the knowledge that the joke would be played on them, I would reply very sadly, “Well you are right. My momma didn’t really want me, because I am adopted.” Drop dead silence. I laugh, because being adopted is not something which is difficult for me to discuss. I laugh because it is not something I am ashamed of. Many of these friends felt horrible for trying to make me the butt of their jokes, but I sat them down and explained the situation to them so they could understand it. To be well informed, is to have power and knowledge. They could understand the truth, because it came from a very reliable source.

Kids can be cruel, however, and there were others who were not as understanding as the ones who were asking questions. I think it’s easy to be cruel or hurtful when you do not understand something, and as kids we don’t understand that words really do hurt. It’s not until we are older, that we realize that the old saying of “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” is totally false. Words do hurt, and sometimes they stick with you forever.

To the ones who tried to break me down, I was still smarter than they were and was still not ashamed. You see, I was adopted which meant that I was chosen. How many of those kids could actually say that? Their parents had to accept what they were given. My parents chose me to become part of their family and no matter how hard those kids tried, they could not compete with that fact.

I was born on April Fool’s Day and I was adopted. I wasn’t a joke…I was chosen. And THAT my friends, is the best gift of all.