Gonna hit you with a sentimental Saturday post.
I saw a baby picture of myself for the first time at 37 years old. This was that picture.
The story is long and somewhat sad, but after years of transient life, my bio mom put me in the foster system, and I was eventually adopted at almost 5 years old.
I had tried for years to contact my birth mother so I could just see pictures of myself. I wanted so badly to connect myself to a baby Jen, but it felt like I was born a 4 year old.
Years of dead ends, road blocks, and cold shoulders stopped me from pushing on, finding where I fit.
When I was pregnant with my daughter, I wanted so badly to have something to look at, too get a glimpse of what she may look like.
It was difficult living in one life, never truly feeling like you belonged, but not a part of your “true” life, because you were adopted out. It been very tough for me to form solid bonds as a result, I have just never felt connected.
It’s been a long road, trying to overcome those feelings of not belonging anywhere.
I don’t hold bad feeling, anger or resentment. I would love answers and insight, but I know I’ll never get those, so I’ve moved on.
But when I got these pictures from a biological family member in 2018, I sobbed for what felt like hours. That’s me, little me. I did exist as a baby. And damn, I was cute!
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