I was married at eighteen years old, to an adopted man. He was adopted during the era where everything was a secret and adoptive parents might never even tell the child. He had some real difficult times dealing with his adoption when we became parents together not once but twice in fourteen months time. Being the mother of children with an adopted father was just about as close as my life would ever get to understanding some of the hard parts about not knowing anything about your past. It started to become something I noticed when I filled in the … Continue reading →