Grown in My Hearts Adoption Carnival this month is about ‘treasured adoption photos’. This is really hard for me to grasp. Treasured would be something I like, right? The only adoption photos I have are the poorly lit fuzzy polaroids taken of me holding Joy before signing the relinquishment papers. The best one went to her father. I wanted him to have some remembrance as he never saw her.
I’ve been ashamed that that was the best I could do. She was an absolutely beautiful baby, and fuzzy polaroids didn’t do her justice. They are the only photos.
If there are no images of the tender beauty of her infancy, maybe the wrenching separation is my favorite. It is the most impactful. I remember a video of two figures running away from a burning village, one smaller than the other. A sudden violent separation from home through a personal bomb blast.
My British heritage objects to this sensational image. But in closed adoption there aren’t really applicable “treasured adoption photos”.