Our family speaks frankly about adoption. So much so that our kids assume adoption is part of everyone's birth story, which is either funny or tragic, depending on your own experiences.
I'm pained to realize that in all of our formal discussions and impromptu conversations and off-hand mentions of adoption, we've barely talked about their birth fathers. We just don't know much about them.
I know they made decisions that will reverberate in my life as long as it lasts.
I know their first names.
I know what one of them looks like. I know he was adopted and wanted to be present at the birth.
I know the year the other one graduated from high school. I know he was a straight A student and was no longer in a relationship with M when the baby was born.
What I know about them amounts to a pile of nothing.
I can't give my children anything of substance about the men they came from.
It's an awful feeling.
The Adoptive Parent
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