Most of the time, I don't think much about being adopted. It's just part of my life, like my hair or excessive gas. But sometimes I still have those pangs of envy when I see families who look alike, sometimes I feel robbed of something that so many others have. I look at my cousin (real, as in from the Dow-tay! family. Please don't ever ask me if I've met my 'real' mom. I met her when she adopted me you dumbass. I met my birthmom much later.) Anyway. My cousin recently had not one, but two babies, Alex and Ben. Looking at her, I wonder if that's what I would have looked like and then, would my babies look like them?

Everything works out the way it's meant to, I know that I found my way to the right family and that my birthfamily found the life they were supposed to have, without me in it for the most part. I don't think I'd be as interesting as I am if my parents had given birth to me and I know I'd be open to a shitload more health problems than I am (thanks, Kathy!). But it doesn't stop me from wondering who I would have been.

Though if I was that person, I wouldn't know the real me, there'd be some other, less interesting (though probably skinnier, but certainly not a redhead with gas) Liz Dow-tay! in the world and the word adoption would be a far-off concept rather than something that improved the lives of 2 families.

So hey, I'm glad to be me and also glad that wee Alex and Ben made it into the world safely.