Lauri blogged today that hate is not a family value. I agree, of course, and will expound on that thought, substituting the word “blame.” Blame is not a family value, but, in adoption, it’s fairly common. And you, the adoptive parent, will be the one who is blamed.

You’ll be blamed by the school system, the mental health professionals (initially), by your family members and, most of all, by the child or children that you adopt…as in someone has to take the fall.

I’ve learned, overheard, or been told that it’s my fault a daughter is in a psychiatric facility, my fault that a birth mother murdered a birth father (years before I ever met those children, heck I wasn’t even in the same country with them when it happened, but that’s not the point, it’s my fault that kids have emotional meltdowns or make poor choices, bad grades, or don’t make the team. Everything is my fault at times. Probably more so because I’m eventually, and always, so forgiving of all the offensive remarks made to, and about, me. I don’t hold a grudge which is a good thing.

Lately I’ve struggled with the knowledge that stress has compromised my health. I can usually deal with a great deal of daily stress; but the level of bitterness, hate and anger poured out upon me because I’m the one who’s remained, unlike all previous birth family members, has taken its toll on me.

I’m getting very tired of the hostility, and I’m not doing the kids any favors by allowing this in them. I’d like to shut some figurative doors, make them stop dumping on me and grow up…the chip on their shoulders is none too attractive.

I was given an unchangeable, pre-determined genetic make-up in each of my children, I was given all their past negative and traumatic abuses and neglect issues, and I was not given any sort of a road map. I have been able to find a great deal of help and resources thankfully, but I simply don’t have the ability to go back in time and undo what was done to them before we met.

I’ve worked my tail off tending to everyone’s needs, making sure all bases are covered at all times, food on the table, laundry done, bills paid, I’ve put the children’s needs ahead of mine for so long that if I ever even had a need, I don’t remember it. It must not have been as important as signing agenda books, checking homework, planning our events and schedules, and the billion other things I take care of each day, while making it look right easy to others.

But this constant absorption of blame is getting very, very old.