I was adopted when I was one week old. Obviously I can't remember anything from that age, but I wonder how it's affected me. I spent 9 months inside another person and then I was born and likely taken from her immediately. This was the 70's at a home for unwed mothers and I'm assuming they separated the babies and mothers after birth, although I was told she was allowed to dress me when my parents came to pick me up and she took a while. I love both my parents and I wouldn't change them being my parents, but I don't view adoption as this 100% rosy thing that people seem to view it as. There has always been a wound there. Something was taken from me. I felt rejected and abandoned. Other kids were cruel when they told me that my mother didn't love me because she gave me up or made comments about my "real" parents. My parents are my real parents. When I was older and found the papers with what they paid the adoption agency, I felt like a commodity, a used car purchased off the lot. I wonder if she remembers me on my birthday. Anyway, your comment made me think of all this.