The Roads We Travel

I am shamelessly addicted to Teen Mom. I love that show. Every Tuesday night me and the hubby cuddle up on the sofa and get engrossed in the lives of Farrah, Catelynn, Marci, and Amber. The biggest reason I sat down for tonight’s finale is Catelynn and Tyler. They met their daughter for the first time. 

Amazing.

Being adopted, I have always followed their story closer than the others. It’s a big decision to give your child up for adoption, but it says a lot about them that they are able to meet their daughter for the first time with happiness and no regrets.

It makes me wonder how my biological mom would feel. It makes me wonder how I would feel. 

My adoption story is not an easy one. It strains from abuse. Geez… I don’t like using that word. Abuse. I don’t like it because it elicits pity, and those who know me know that pity isn’t part of how I view my adoption experience. But the word is the reality of what happened in my adoptive home.

It’s that very word that makes me hesitant on finding my biological family. The thought of it has my heart pounding. Because just like I don’t want people to pity me, I don’t want someone to feel guilty for me either. I don’t want someone to take on the responsibility of what happened, when it is not their responsibility to own.

But there is still the unknown. My face looks like someone else’s face out there. I have an older sister that may be a splitting image of me, but I am scared to know. Because just like I don’t want someone else to be disappointed in the decision they made, I don’t want to be disappointed by them either.

The question of why in Catelynn and Tyler’s case is obvious. They were and still are young. But I still walk around with a question mark over my head. I want that reason to be a good reason.

But the decisions we make today are the roads we will travel down tomorrow. They determine if it will be paved or gravel, straight, narrow or curvy paths we follow.

And we have to be ok with that. I have to be ok with that. Because God allows us to be in certain situations so we can become different people. My adoptions story is rocky, but it made me into the person I am today. I can’t go back and change that. It also gave me the amazing families I have today. So I thank God profusely for the experience. 

Too bad that doesn’t stop me from wondering. Does the male side of my conception even know he has a daughter? Does my sister know she has a sister? Of all the questions these two are the ones that always get to me. My intuition tells me they have no idea. 

But my logic is saying, for now, leave well enough alone and I don’t know if I am ready to travel that road just yet.