I'm usually on the look out for books that are based on adoption, as I am interested to learn how different birth mothers, adoptive parents and the adoptees have coped with something so significant in their lives. I think I may have mentioned this in another review, but I was adopted, at a rather young age, but unlike Anne Heffron, I have never met my birth mother, who is now in fact, deceased. While I have really never had any interest in my biological father, there was a time, a good few years ago, I was physically aching to know what my birth mother looked like. My curiosity was wild, and it kind of consumed me for a while. But, despite that, I never did make contact with her, even though I knew I could do so. I think I felt like I was committing something terrible against my parents, the parents who had taken care of me my entire life. What made things a harder pill to swallow with me, is that I was my birth mother's third child, and mentally, that made me wonder, why me? Why keep two of your children, and then give up the third? The thing is, that lady could have taken the easy way out, but she didn't, and I am incredibly grateful for that.
Within these pages, Heffron explains how her adoption has practically coloured her entire life. It has had a profound effect on relationships, schooling and she thinks about it everyday. As this is a personal memoir, I can pass no judgement on that, but I don't think it has affected my life in a negative way, and even though it crosses my mind rather frequently, it certainly isn't every day. I can agree with Anne, when she is told "On the day we got you" as opposed to "On the day you were born" as that is how my parents began every conversation about my birth. I have no photo's of myself as a newborn baby. I think the first one, was taken when my adoptive parents took over the role from the foster parents I had been placed with.
Heffron had two adopted brothers by the time she was adopted herself, whereas I, was my parents first child.
Apparently, my mother was told there were no babies available at that time for adoption, and that it was usually toddlers that needed a home. Obviously, my Mum and Dad, who were desperate for a child, agreed to take any child that became available for adoption that needed a loving home. A few days later, my Mum received a phone call that changed her life forever. She was going to be bringing ME home.
I feel for Heffron, and the constant struggles she has had with her adoption, as I can certainly understand that it wouldn't be easy for any of the parties involved. I enjoyed reading from someone else's perspective, but I found particular parts of this book difficult, as the layout is all over the place. There are flashbacks everywhere, with no prior warning, and this left me rather flustered. Despite that fact, this was an honest memoir, and I think that anyone who can sit and write about their experiences like this, is one brave being. Thank you Anne Heffron.