Adoption is a complex and deeply personal experience, with each story being unique in its own way. Only 5% of United States adoptions are closed, meaning the adoptee has zero contact with the biological family. I’m Hannah Steacker, and I want to share my experience as an adoptee from a closed adoption, growing up alongside my older brother, L.J., who was adopted in a fully open adoption. My story is one of curiosity, jealousy, and the longing for answers that are often hard to come by.
Early Awareness
As long as I can remember, I knew I was adopted, my family never hid it from me. While I don’t have a specific memory of the exact moment I was told, my mom shares this story: It was when I was around 2 years old, and we were going to court for my adoption finalization. My mom explained that we needed to dress nicely because I was officially going to be adopted, just like L.J. She recalled my enthusiastic response being, “Yay! I am adopted too!” At that age, I didn’t understand what that concept meant, but I loved that fact about me and I loved to tell everyone who would listen that I was adopted.
A Positive Perspective
One of my grandmother’s favorite stories to share is from when I was 4 years old. While on a family trip to New York City, we hopped in a taxi, and without any prompting, I told the driver that I was adopted. While the taxi driver was very understandably confused, my family couldn’t help but giggle. This story was to show that I never associated being adopted with anything negative or abnormal. Adoption was simply a part of who I was and I did not know a life where it wasn’t.
Jealousy
My experience growing up with an older brother who was in an open adoption filled me with jealousy. I envied the fact that he knew his birth family. He grew up with people who looked like him, shared his genes, and could answer his questions. My story was different, I have always had questions, and I still do. On one hand, I wondered about silly things like how many people out there look like me. But on the other more serious hand, I wondered about my medical history and my birth family’s heritage. I went through years of counseling to prepare myself and cope with the unique challenges that come with being an adoptee.
While my experience may differ from those in open adoptions, it’s important to recognize that every adoption story is unique and shaped by individual circumstances. As I continue my journey, I hope that one day I will find answers to my own journey. But until then, I will continue to talk about my adoption story as proudly as I did when I told the NYC Taxi driver.
