Family

I'm adopted so that might be a good place to start. I was adopted by my parents John and Eleanor Robson when I was about 6 months old. Catholic Charities of Spokane handled the adoption. Mom and dad had been married for about 10 years and had found out that they couldn't have children and had been waiting for only a short time for a baby when they where called about me. In those days there was no such thing as open adoptions. My parents where called to come pick up a baby girl on December 22, 1952. I have heard the story of that day many times through the years. It was my birth story. Mom and dad had gone through the adoption interviews, filled out all the paper work and where told to just wait. I've often wondered how Catholic Charities matched up families in those days. Mom said she was overwhelmed when she got the call. They had no baby furniture, clothes or any items. They had two or three foster children at the time. That would mean four children under 4 for mom and dad!

Mom says when they first saw me, she just melted. I was dressed in a pink frilly dress, full of smiles and coos and a head full of blond curls. They both bonded with me from the first minute they saw me. It's weird to write about this story from my point of view. It marks the beginning of my knowledge about life story. I had no knowledge about the first few months of my life except what my mother supposed. She told me later when I had questions, that my mother was young, about 18, I was born in Walla Walla, Wa and I had been very sick as a baby. I have a scar on my butt from what she said was an antibiotic injection.

Mom and dad have always been extremely open about my being adopted. As a child I was told that my birth parents where poor and couldn't afford to take care of me, that they loved me but that they felt I would have a better life with another family. It was a familiar story. I always felt that my birth mother loved me very much.

My mom has told me many stories about how my adoption affected her family. She is the youngest of 6 and she was always very close to my grandmother. She helped mom a lot during the years after she got me and my brother Mark. Adoption has been a common discussion in our family. In those years it wasn't as accepted as it is now. Adopted children where some what excluded in some circles. The adopted child wasn't technically considered family. To my mom and dad though this wasn't even given a thought. Mark and I where their children fully and completely in all manners.

I have worked with adopting mothers all through my career as a mother/baby nurse/childbirth educator. I know how difficult the decision to adopt is. I'm sure I will write about adoption again.

When I turned 50 I decided I needed to find out more about my birth mother and family. That story will be my next post.

*The picture here was taken by the Spokesmen Review and published on the front page during Christmas time. I was waving at Santa. My dad was holding me.