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Growing up, being adopted was something I really struggled with. For me, and many others adopted in the 90s, it was a source of embarrassment. I was often called “Orphan Girl” and told that my “biological mother didn’t want me” by classmates. Fortunately, my parents were always open about my adoption, so to me, it felt normal—nothing to be ashamed of. But as I got older, I started to internalize the negativity and began to feel ashamed of myself. I began to believe that I wasn’t wanted, despite my parents doing everything they could to show me the exact opposite.
Looking back now, I realize how much things have changed. Today, being adopted, having stepparents, or being raised by a loving family member is much more normalized and celebrated. No child should ever be made to feel less than for who is lovingly raising them.
Growing up in an orphanage, where human connection and love were scarce, I struggled to emotionally connect with my adoptive parents, especially my mom. There’s a long-running family joke about how, when my parents first brought me and my biological brother home, I would give my mom the side-eye and call her “lady” in Ukrainian. Looking back, I realize I was probably afraid she would leave me, just like the caretakers at the orphanage did when their shifts ended. After a lot of effort, and even some psychological help, I was eventually able to lower my guard and form a deep emotional bond with my parents.
That said, putting aside much of my personal journey of pain and growth as an adopted individual, losing my mom was incredibly difficult. Even though I still had my (adoptive) dad, in the early waves of grief after her passing, I experienced a feeling that was both indescribable and hauntingly familiar. It felt like something deep in my memory and heart had been dormant for years. I can’t fully explain it, but it was as though I was an orphan again—like that little toddler in the orphanage, wearing shoes that were too small and mismatched clothes. I missed that maternal connection. I missed my mom. Emotionally, it felt like I had gone back in time, and it was truly harrowing.
While I don’t know what it’s like to lose a biological parent, I do understand the pain of grieving the loss of one—just in a different way. I’ve never known my biological parents (though I hope they are safe, especially with everything happening in Ukraine), but growing up, I still grappled with a range of emotions surrounding these faceless individuals. That being said, my adoptive parents are, and always will be, my parents. I will forever be grateful for their generous hearts in adopting me and my brother. To me, adoption is one of the most beautiful gifts you can give to a child.
So, what does it feel like to lose an adoptive parent?
This might seem like an underwhelming answer, but for me, it feels like the loss of a parent. I’m incredibly fortunate to have had the relationship I did with my mom, even though it wasn’t always smooth during my angsty years. I recognize that not every adopted child has a positive relationship with their adoptive parents. And while I mention that she’s my adoptive mom in this post to clarify in the context of my biological parents, she has always been my mom and will always be my mom.
After her passing, a thought crossed my mind. If it’s true that dying individuals are greeted on “The Other Side” by loved ones and guardian angels, and if my biological mother has already passed, I like to think that she patiently waited to welcome my mom. And when they met, I imagine my biological mother thanked her for being the amazing mom she couldn’t be for me. On the other hand, if my biological mother is still alive, maybe my mom will be the one waiting, ready to welcome her and thank her for giving her her two children.
Overall, losing a parent is an incredibly difficult experience, no matter the blood relation. But I know I will always miss my mom, and I’m endlessly grateful that she chose me to share her heart with and to be her daughter.
-j🌻