My family adopted my youngest sister. We live in Upstate New York.
I am extremely pro-adoption. There are so many children in our nation, let alone the world, that need a home, and most of them come from troubled, upsetting backgrounds.
My sister was born to a prostitute who was addicted to crack and we believe also meth. She had three half-siblings, all of them boys, who were scattered around in the foster system with my sister. They ended up being adopted by grandparents, but no one wanted my sister, who was the youngest and only two weeks old when we got the call. My parents immediately accepted to be a foster family for her (we already were in the system for years).
My sister arrived with CPS the very next day. She had a messy diaper, not a hair on her head, and she was sobbing and sobbing. I was only ten years old, but I very vividly remember the CPS lady handing my sister to my mom and my mom burst into tears. She was moved. This tiny, two-week-old infant had absolutely nothing, and suddenly had something.
Because we were only fostering her, my sister’s biological mother had visiting rights (the father was not in the picture). We drove my baby sister to rehab to see her once a month for a day, and it was like this for two whole years. The mother wasn’t getting any better, and my parents began to encourage the state to ask her to hand over rights of adoption.
Finally, on Christmas Eve, 2004, when my sister was two and a half years old, we got the call. My sister was legally put up for adoption. My parents immediately said she was ours.
We went down to the courhouse that spring and signed the papers. We changed both her first name and her last name (for security reasons – drug addicts are unpredictable and the state said it would keep my sister safer) and officially made her ours. She has always known she was adopted, she has always known her old name (she likes her new name more, hahaha), but we have never told her that her mother was a crackhead prostitute and how she was the only one of all her siblings that was unwanted. She doesn’t need to know those details. All we have told her is that her mother was very sick and could not care for her. She is now seventeen years old.
And I literally, not figuratively, but literally, can’t imagine my life without her.