~ Monday’s Childe blog will now be written by the child themselves. The Monday blogs (other then corrected sentence structure ) theme and words will be theirs. These brave adopted children will share their journeys through foster care to adoption. ~
My name is Emily. The story that I am about to tell isn’t just a story. It is something that really happened to me. It is something that happened in my past and will always be a part of who I am. When I was young, my family consisted of my biological mom, my sister, and brother. We were constantly moving. My biological dad was homeless, so I didn’t get to see him very much. My mom found a boyfriend and decided to move in with him. They didn’t have jobs that provided much money and they didn’t spend the money they had on things that would help us stay healthy. There wasn’t very much food. My mom would bring us fast food after she got off from work but not very often. When there was no food, my sister and I would resort to other things—fish food or cat food. My sister would eat nail polish and many other things a person shouldn't. I don’t remember my life being so bad at the time. I was always playing outside and didn’t know about how bad my life really was. I just thought it was normal to live like that. My parents were also drug addicts and alcoholics and would often become violent. They would beat each other up or my mom would beat my sister with a wooden spoon. They were always in and out of jail. We would often times go and visit them and stay with my grandmother. She didn't treat us any better though. She would yell at us all the time, just like our mother did. We never had the proper clothing we needed. The final time DHS was called was because my neighbors saw my little brother, who was two at the time, outside by himself wearing only a shirt that went to his knees. When they took us from our home, they found a meth lab in the back. I was six years old when a strange person in a nice car came to pick my sister and me up from school. It was DHS. They took us home and told us to grab the things that were ours from the room we were in. I had to say bye to my mom and was taken to go live with a foster family. The car ride to the DHS office was confusing. My sister and brother were crying. I just sat there looking out the window while the driver explained something that none of us listened to. From then on my life had gotten way better. On the car ride to my first foster home, my foster parent explained who God was and all the great things He does for us. That was the first time God was introduced into my life. After a year of living with my foster parent, she decided she didn't want to adopt us so we went to the family we are in now. We lived with our new family for about six months before we were adopted. God blessed us with this family who loves us and provides for us. Adoption saved my life. It’s a way for kids to get a new start and to know what it feels like to live with people who love you more than you could imagine. Adoption is God's way of showing me how to love and what love feels like, and it’s the end to a life of burden and a fresh start to something greater.