I am an adoptee. I am more than that, and there is much more to my life than my adoptee experience. But this blog is only (well, mostly) about being an adoptee, searching for my natural family, and finding that my natural mother died eight years before I found out who she was. Details can be found in my first post.
If you are confused by the term natural mother, it equates to birthmother but reflects the fact that her connection to me is not limited to the act of giving birth. When I first encountered this term I felt it was unnecessarily politically correct, but after a bit of reflection on my feelings about my origins and my adoption, as well as the fact that she took care of me for at least two months after my birth, I have changed my mind and decided to use it.
I realize that it carries the implication that adoptive mothers are somehow “unnatural” or “artificial”, and after thinking about it a bit I have decided that no matter how great they are as mothers and no matter how much they love their adopted children, the circumstances of adoption make this true. I am tired of pretending it doesn’t, just to spare the feelings of adoptive parents, including my own, no matter how much I may love them otherwise.