MUM-OF-THREE Melaina Rogers, 34, always knew she was adopted. But what she didn’t realise was that her six other biological siblings hadn’t been. She says:
GROWING up I always knew I was adopted – my parents Cate and Mike Larsen, now both 73, didn’t keep it from me.
“We love you so much and your birth mother did too,” they would say, at pains to make sure I knew I had been cherished by her but she was just not able to care for me.
She lived in a small town in Colombia, South America, and money was tight. So she made the incredibly hard decision to place me for adoption.
Meanwhile at the same time, my parents – already mum and dad to four biological kids – decided they wanted to expand their brood even further.
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So after learning about international adoption from a lawyer friend in September 1987 her mother travelled across international borders to collect me from the hospital where I was born.
And at just a few weeks old I was flown the 3,500 miles home to Layton, Utah, USA, where I still live now with my family.
Being adopted was normal for me. I grew up happy, doted on by my older siblings, now all in their 40s.
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My childhood was happy although I was virtually one of very few non-white children in my school and I didn’t physically resemble my siblings.
Still, I never felt excluded – instead I had everything I wanted and needed and was enormously loved.
My birth mum had written me letters which I had access to – my parents had put all my adoption paperwork in a file for me to access at any time. In them, she explained I had three older siblings, two brothers, and one sister but she couldn’t care for me “financially or spiritually” so chose to place me for adoption with the hope I’d have a better future.
Some people might think I was angry about that – especially since she had kept my older siblings – but I truly wasn’t.
Instead, I had huge respect for her. She loved me desperately so did what she thought was best for me – sacrificing her own wants for mine.
And I was happy living in the USA with a family who loved me. I worked hard at school, met production manager Ben, now 37, and went on to have three gorgeous kids, Mia, now nine, Mac, now six, and Colt, now three.
Aged 30, having become a mother, I decided to seek out my own biological family. I had no huge expectations, aware she might not wish to see me or could even have passed away.
Telling my parents they were supportive but understandably concerned – they didn’t want me to get hurt.
As well as my older siblings I had three other biological siblings, three younger brothers who were born after me but who my mum hadn’t placed for adoption.
In 2017 I spoke to a friend of my husband’s lived in Colombia about tracking her down. Admitting it was a long shot, he discovered my biological mother’s social security number and, seeing it was still active, revealed she was likely still alive. But it was a dead end. No way to contact her.
I started to do Facebook Lives and a friend from high school watched every single one. She reached out to me and said she just had a friend post on Facebook that she wanted to help someone find their biological family.
She connected us and within two weeks the person found a biological sibling and reached out. He answered and then told her that my biological mom wanted to meet me once she discovered who it was.
And then I learned something quite extraordinary – as well as my older siblings I had three other biological siblings, three younger brothers who were born after me but who my mum hadn’t placed for adoption.
I’m not going to lie and say that was something I immediately came to terms with.
Of course, I wondered “why me?”
But talking about it, I learnt she had struggled enormously after parting with me and – realising this – her family agreed when she fell pregnant with my younger biological siblings she should keep them.
I did not begrudge that and, happy with the life I had in the USA, I ultimately didn’t feel there was anything to forgive.
On June 16, 2017 I had my first tentative phone call with her.
I don't speak Spanish but my youngest biological brother knew both Spanish and English so he was able to translate for the both of us.
I was so overcome with emotion and so nervous before we spoke. He answered the phone and asked, “Do you want to talk to our mum?” I, of course, said, “Yes.”
Once she showed her face on the screen, we both started to cry immediately. It was a wonderful moment.
Now we speak every few weeks on the phone and text once a week. I feel close to her. In the future I hope to visit Colombia and meet her, although I don’t consider her my mother.
I’ve also spoken to my new siblings who are all wonderful. My sister was over-the-moon, she had always wanted a sister.
Once she showed her face on the screen, we both started to cry immediately. It was a wonderful moment.
Of course, they didn’t replace the four I grew up with – I’ve known them forever – but I welcome getting to know my Colombian family.
It’s been easier for me living in the USA and having easy access to everything. But my family in Colombia have proved themselves. They’ve graduated university and achieved big dreams.
I’m open with my story as there’s nothing to be ashamed of. However, people ask inappropriate questions on social media where I talk of my adoption and subsequent journey to track down my biological mum.
“Do you think adopted children are less loved?” one person asked – of course not, they are just as adored.
“How do you feel about being the only one of seven children put up for adoption?” another person asked.
“Do you think your life would be better if you’d not been put up for adoption,” someone else queried.
But I’m happy as things are – and I believe everything worked out exactly as it was supposed to.
Now I just can’t wait to meet my biological family.
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