Meet Rosemary's Other Baby

J.C. Chaplin By J.C. Chaplin, 21st May 2015 | Follow this author | RSS Feed | Short URL
Posted in Wikinut>Family>Adoption

An introduction to a personal side of myself. I grew up as an adopted and only child. Now in my forties, I am on a journey of healing.

My Journey Begins

In 2001, I moved my adoptive mom (Mom) from Yankee Land to down here in Deliveranceville, so she could experience the joy of her grandchildren, a joy (cough) I get to experience every day. One day Mom surprised me by telling me that she did not want anyone here to know that I had been adopted. Though I am secure in our relationship, I found her thinking to be odd, since my adoption has never been a secret. While I agreed, out of respect for her wishes, the request poked at the familiar bruise on my tender heart, a constant reminder that I live life as an emotional nomad, never sure of where to invest myself.

Over the years I have met many adult adoptees, each with a unique story and exclusive emotions. I began to wonder if I had been honest with myself regarding my own feelings. With so much dysfunction already present in my environment as a kid, I don’t think I ever took the time to acknowledge the pain I carried from growing up as an adopted only child. I brushed aside the memories of birthdays and holidays, when I felt like the odd man out, riding on a fifth wheel. Somewhere along the way I buried those tiny twinges in my soul that occurred each time I answered questions from curious children and adults. If you are an adoptee, you know a few of the questions:

How old were you when you were adopted? My adoption was arranged before my birth. After spending the first eighteen days of life in an incubator, I left the hospital with my adoptive parents.

When did you find out about being adopted? I can recall being aware from a very young age. My parents talked about it with me from as far back as I can recall. They also told me I was found under a cabbage leaf, which sounded harmless at the time.

Are you going to look for your birth mother? For most of my life, I did not think I wanted to take on that search, for fear of rejection. In 2012, I met my birth mother and my biological brother for the first time, in Connecticut (see Flight Plan on my nonfiction page).

The list of questions goes on, depending of the depth of discussion. Over the years, my responses became automatic and brief. After all, to elaborate on the truth would have meant venturing below the protective surface at the risk of striking a tender chord.

Here in Deliveranceville, the South, veins of quart can be found in rich, red dirt. Sometimes you get lucky and stumble upon a few promising sparkly pieces as you explore a path. The first chunks often resemble solid white rocks, which may be disappointing. But… should you proceed to scoop away the dirt and follow the vein, you might reach the cloudy pieces, an indication of progress. Not what you hoped to find, yet still clearer than the first rocks. With bare hands, you sort through soil, lumps of clay, and an occasional worm (God bless you), but you continue searching because the crystals with the most clarity are worth the effort, regardless of their value to anyone else.

Whether you find satisfaction with those first loose rocks, or you decide to rent a backhoe to do some excavating, may you achieve success and happiness as you travel your own path. Above all, I wish you the inner peace of knowing, embracing, and loving who you are. Until then, my hope is to connect with others on similar journeys, so we may support and encourage one another through the growing pains and the healing process.

Please feel free to send me a message on my Get in Touch page. All correspondence will be confidential and nothing will ever be posted without permission. You can even use an alias, I don’t care.  My goal is to build a community for adoptees by providing a safe place, free of judgment, to share the good, the bad, and the ugly stories. I am not a victim and I do not seek sympathy. I want to open discussions about the good things, as well as the scars I know I am not alone in bearing.

Author's note: There are references in this piece to my website, which is listed in my profile. Thank you so much for reading.


Adopted, Adopted Children, Adoptee, Adoption

Meet the author

author avatar J.C. Chaplin
I am a caffeine addict, living in the southern US. I am a mother of four, and I write humor to avoid becoming a tower sniper. Visit my website at

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author avatar Sivaramakrishnan A
22nd May 2015 (#)

I know of two who were adopted. One is a middle aged lady who is quite close to her adoptive parents. She told me she knows her biological parents but does not have much feelings for them as she considers her adoptive parents as the "real deal". Another is a young man who could well be closer to his adoptive parents than others with biological parents - siva

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