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During infancy, some girls are abandoned by their parents for various reasons. When they grow up, some of them comb through the past and grow up as abandoned babies, so that they have a clearer understanding of dependence and family affection.
Zhang Jing is 48 years old in Xingtai, Hebei Province
A girl who has been abandoned twice for "uselessness"
When my mother was pregnant with me, she and my father were supporting my 15-year-old sister and 8-year-old brother to go to school, and she was mentally ill with the death of an older brother earlier, and she also needed to be cared for, so my parents were unable to prepare for my birth in energy and financial resources.
With my brother, they already had the incense that had been passed down from generation to generation, so when my mother conceived me, my father decided that the family did not need me, and let the wind go early to find someone to support me.
My father was an prospector on the geological team, and the adoptive parents who had chosen me were his colleagues, childless, with good family conditions and my father was satisfied.
It is said that when my mother gave birth in the delivery room, my adoptive parents were already in the hospital ready to greet me. They prepared brand new bedding, milk powder and some nutritional supplements. After I was born, my adoptive parents took me from the hospital for the first time and sent me to a relative's house in the countryside for foster care. When my relatives and parents were six years old, it was time to go to school, and my adoptive parents took me back to the city.
Figure | When I was a child, I was in the country
As soon as I entered the house, before I had time to adapt to the environment, my adoptive mother set all kinds of "rules" for me: I was not allowed to go to bed except for sleeping at night, sleeping on a recliner in a nap, writing homework on a small bench, combing my hair to comb next to the garbage bin outside, don't make the house full of it... My adoptive mother's home was neat and spotless, and she didn't want me to ruin her normal life. I didn't like that "home", they took me back to the country during the New Year, and when I left, I hid in the wheat stack and refused to leave, and finally they found it.
Many people around me know about being abandoned by my biological parents and transferring to my colleagues.
The second year after returning to my adoptive parents, I once had a fight with a child, and she pointed at me and said, "You are not born to your parents," trying to sting me. I was stunned on the spot, and after returning to God, I left them and ran home, throwing the words of the children to my adoptive mother: "They said, I am not your own child." ”
The adoptive mother was a little flustered: "Who did you listen to?" Don't listen to them. I continued to ask, and she "hmmmed" for a moment, without denying it. The days started to get a little different. Because I was unhappy at my adoptive parent's house, I began to imagine how warm I would be if I was in another home and wanted to "escape back". My adoptive parents also used to mutter, behind my back, to discuss something.
When I was ten years old, my adoptive mother bought me a rare set of new dresses and socks, and took me on a train to the city where my biological parents settled. My adoptive parents raised me so that I would be taken care of when I was old, and knowing that I learned of my origins, they were worried that I would get angry with them and refuse to take care of them, so they decided to stop the loss immediately and give me back.
My biological father was very angry, even if there was a reason to "return" in the middle, he also felt that they did not take good care of me, so that the little me was hurt by the truth. But in the end, I was left at home to take care of.
My father didn't take the initiative to explain anything to me. At one point I asked him lightly why he sent me away. He turned to his mother, Nunu, who was suffering from insanity, and said, "Can your mother take care of you in this situation?" There is no other way but to send it away. I nodded, understanding his original decision.
I decided not to think about it anymore, but I remembered that I had been abandoned and could not get close to them. When I was a teenager, my father once had a car accident on his way back from an errand. The car overturned, and the oil from the fuel tank flowed to the ground, but fortunately, the farmers who passed by rescued the people in the car in time.
When the news came home, my first reaction was not to worry about my father's safety, but to panic that if my father was gone, who would provide me with school and study, and who would raise my sick mother.
The result of knowing that I was abandoned twice was that I prematurely assumed that no one in the world would love me unconditionally. I can't wait to work and make money, and with money, I can control my own life and not put my fate in the hands of others.
After graduating from high school, I couldn't wait to go out and make money, working as a restaurant waiter, a guest house front desk, selling auto parts, and setting up a stall. Later, after being introduced, I met my current husband, and his happy family was the factor that I valued most.
In 2003, my biological mother passed away. The brother and sister-in-law strongly opposed the father's search for a wife, afraid that outsiders would divide up the property. Feeling that my sister-in-law was harsh and mean, my father did not want to live with them, living alone in the old house on the sixth floor, and every month I would bring something to see him. We usually have a casual chat and then have lunch together. There is no emotion, just to fulfill the obligations of the daughter.
In 2018, my 80-year-old father was diagnosed with cancer, and my sister's family lived in a foreign country, so only my brother and I took turns to go to the hospital to accompany me, but my brother disappeared on the pretext of going to work for three days. In the hospital bed, my father made a will and ordered the three of us to sign, the only house he divided with his brother, and my sister and I divided the rest of the savings left by the doctor's treatment equally. In the last moments of his life, the father did not forget to take care of his cowardly son.
After my father's death, my sister and I worked with my sister to sort out my father's belongings. After a lifetime of hard work, my father left very few things. My sister also talked about the past when I was born and was sent for adoption, saying that the family was really difficult at that time, and let me understand my parents. More than forty years later, I have also become a mother, and I no longer have resentment towards my biological parents and adoptive parents, but more indifferently, forget it. The love that was once missing, I will give it all to my daughter.
Su Yang is 19 years old in Nanjing, Jiangsu Province
During an argument, I learned that I had been a baby girl abandoned on the street
It was during this winter break that I learned that I was an abandoned baby. My mom and I had a big fight, and the quarrel was emotional, and she shook out the secret that had been kept for 19 years.
My father died of hepatitis when I was in fifth grade, and after I went to junior high school, my mother remarried. I was already a little hostile to this stepfather who had suddenly broken into my mother and me. The more I saw them getting closer, the more I felt the snubbed. On the day of the winter break, my stepfather did not drive to the school to pick me up as agreed. After dinner, my stepfather went out, and my aggrieved emotions gushed out, "He said he came to pick me up, why didn't he come?" I questioned my mother. One sentence provoked a dispute.
During the quarrel, I talked endlessly about the things that I felt neglected. "You don't care about me at all!" Finally, I slammed the door and hid in the room.
My mother pushed open my door excitedly: "No one in the world cares more about you than I do!" She shouted in front of my eyes. For a moment I saw that her eyes were full of disappointment and grievance.
She turned and went into her bedroom, and a few minutes later hurried out again, with an extra piece of paper in her hand. She showed me the paper, which was an adoption certificate that clearly stated my adoption date—it turned out that the date of my birthday every year was set by my parents according to my adoption date.
I was stunned for a moment. My mother told me that my aunt had picked it up from the dumpster in the wet market. In the cold winter of January, when my aunt found me, I was wrapped in a small quilt and lay quietly, not crying or making trouble. Looking at me pitifully, my aunt carried me home. My dad had family-inherited hepatitis and he and his mom never had children for fear of passing it on to the next generation. In the end, Mom and Dad adopted me.
For 19 years, my parents did not make me suspicious, trying to live an ordinary life, who would think of finding out whether they were their parents' biological children.
Since I was a child, I have noticed many burn scars on my arms and legs. I asked my mom and she said it was not long after I was born and accidentally got burned by a kettle. When I was young, I still blamed her in my heart for this. Actually, it was left to me by my original parents and had nothing to do with her. In order to heal the scars on my body, when my parents were free, they carried me to many hospitals to seek medical treatment. Growing up, I applied an unknown number of ointments, and the scars became much lighter.
Figure | Residual scars on the arms
I always complained that my parents didn't give me enough company. When my parents were young, they didn't have enough time to take care of me in order to earn money. In order to give me the care I deserved, they sent me to live at my grandmother's house. When I had time, my parents would come to my grandmother's house to accompany me, but most of the time I could only envy other children. I often ran home enviously when I saw other children walking with their parents and asked my grandmother for mom and dad. Grandma always said that they were too busy at work to take me.
When I was eight years old, my parents relaxed their jobs and took me to live with me. They set up my room in advance and made a big table of hearty meals to celebrate the start of a new life for our family. But at that time, I suddenly arrived in an unfamiliar environment, and I was a little confused. In the first days of living together, I rarely and did not know how to communicate with my parents. At that time, my biggest pressure in school was that I didn't learn math well, and I always attracted criticism from my teachers, which made me feel very bad. I was sad, but I just didn't tell them and hid things in my heart. We were like strangers living under one roof.
I have loved to draw since I was a child, and I have attended extracurricular classes for two years. When I was in the third grade, my parents suddenly began to teach me that painting is not a proper job, and I should put my energy into learning. Later, I was caught stealing my drawings, and my father confiscated my paper and brushes. He still has that look, he doesn't smile on weekdays, and he has high requirements for my studies, so much so that I often think: he should hate me.
Before I could change my opinion of him, he died of a hepatitis attack in the fifth grade. My mother cried so hard that I hugged her tightly and really thought: I will be kind to her in the future and fight with her less.
Our whole family went to check for hepatitis infection. While waiting for the results, I was worried that I would inherit my father's hepatitis or hepatitis susceptibility. I told my mother about my concerns, and I said, "Rest assured, you'll never have this disease." I only think when she's comforting me.
After knowing that I was an abandoned baby, my feelings for my parents were flipped. They didn't take anything away from my life, on the contrary, after meeting them, my life was adding every day.
When I was a child, when my parents led me out, I met acquaintances, and my uncles and aunts would always politely say, "It's so beautiful, and how much like My Father/Mom." "As I grew up, I found that I didn't look like them, and I often felt frustrated when I looked in the mirror: my parents looked so good, why am I so ordinary."
I told my mom about it. At that time, my mother immediately replied to me: "Like, how is it not like that." She looked at me and said, "Isn't your nose like your dad's?" Eyes, more like me. "Growing up, my mother was like this to "fool" me, and I never suspected that she was lying. Every time I look in the mirror after being "fooled" by her, I feel that my appearance is indeed the same as my mother said.
The complaints are gone, leaving more of a heartache.
I feel bad for my dad because I understand his harshness as nasty, when in fact he just expects me to get better. I also felt guilty that I had complained that he didn't respect my preferences and put me in class, but I didn't know that he was worried about the limited time and could not give me enough influence and teaching as a father.
When I was a child, I once watched a CCTV family search program with my mother. A pair of decades-old mother and daughter hugged and cried in the studio hall, and the host Ni Ping and the guests also blushed. I didn't feel this kind of sensational scene, but my mother took it seriously. She suddenly turned her head and asked me, "What if your parents come looking for you, do you follow them?" ”
"That's definitely going to go, why haven't they come yet?" I didn't know my origins, but when my mother was joking, I deliberately teased her. Mom skimmed her lips and ignored me.
I just wanted to be with my mother and didn't think about finding my biological parents. But if I get a chance to meet them, I want to know my exact date of birth.
After years of ointment treatment, most of the burn scars on my body disappeared. Only a few faint marks were left on the arms. They remind me of the secrets I knew at the age of 19.
Yang Si is 21 years old in Quanzhou, Fujian Province
Is kinship determined only by blood? Love can also create affection
My adoptive father picked me up in the square when he was nearly 40 years old. The day he picked me up, in the late afternoon, he was finished and passed by the square and saw a large cardboard box with the cries of children. He walked over and it was me lying inside. He was introverted, only introduced to marriage in his 30s, and the woman ran away not long after marriage, so he has been alone and lives with his grandmother. He didn't have a regular job, and any family in the village who needed help would do some manual labor.
I picked it up, and my family didn't hide it, I knew it before I went to elementary school. At that time, A few friends and I were fighting, laughing heartlessly and lunglessly, and the adult next to me said in a joking tone, "You are the child your father picked up from the road." "It was too young to feel anything special. Although there was no mother, and my father was not around to work outside, my grandmother loved me very much and treated me like a granddaughter.
The year I was born, my grandmother was 71 years old. My father handed me over to my grandmother and went out to work, and my grandmother did not raise me because of old age, nor did she ever say things like "you are not our child" and "if you don't obey me, I don't want you", although this must be a deterrent to me who knows that I am an abandoned baby, but she has never used this to discipline me.
When I was in elementary school, as long as I came home late, my grandmother would wait for me at the alley with crutches. I saw her from afar, and immediately ran over and threw myself into her arms. She smiled and complained that I had come back late, and took my hand and walked home. On the short dirt road in the countryside, I was cheerfully like a little bird, and my mouth was chattering non-stop.
Although Dad can't express it, he will think of letting me eat it first, and when I finish the exam, I will think of rewarding me.
Figure | Old house nearby
I am not blood relatives with my father and grandmother, but love can also create family affection. The love my father and grandmother poured out on me gave me a sense of security, and I didn't feel like I'd gained anything less than anyone else. So after learning that he had picked it up, his life went on as usual.
Dad especially loves to drink, and his health has not been good. During the years he went out to work, he turned day and night in the factory upside down, which accelerated the collapse of his body. When I was thirteen years old, I was in the first year of junior high school, and my father was admitted to the hospital with a cerebral hemorrhage, and he died within a few months of discharge.
I cried very sadly at the funeral. At the end of the cry, the tears could not flow out, and I watched the adults busily. An aunt in the village caught a glimpse of me staying there and threw me a sentence: "How to say that it is also your father, you should also cry." She looked at me as if to say: The children she picked up are indeed white-eyed wolves, and Dad is not sad when he leaves.
After my father left, I followed my grandmother and was taken care of by my uncle and uncle in turn. That's when I realized my awkward position. Once, at lunch, I was preparing to clip the omelette in front of me, and the great aunt suddenly took the whole plate and said to her grandson, "If the baby likes it, eat more." "I realized that in their hearts, I was an outsider, so I learned to look into the eyes of adults and carefully play the role of well-behaved and sensible children.
Grandma had heart disease, took medication every day, and occasionally felt unwell. I told my uncle and uncle and grandmother that they were busy with their own things and didn't take it seriously, saying that this disease could not be cured anyway, so they dragged on. In the third year of junior high school, one night at ten o'clock, I was doing my homework, and my grandmother suddenly had a seizure, and she kept saying that it was uncomfortable and had some fever.
I don't know who to call, the uncle went to the field to see a doctor in those days, the uncle is generally working in the field, I don't know if he came back. I ran alone to the village health post to find a doctor. After shouting a lot, no one answered, and I was so anxious that I was crying and slapping the door. While crying, I was particularly scared, and I was the only one who was left with her.
In very difficult times, I often fantasize that my biological parents will come to me. Maybe their lives have changed and they will come and take me home and give me something to rely on.
This fantasy was abandoned as I grew older. Having not heard anything from me for so many years actually meant that they didn't want to look for me. They may be people from nearby villages and towns, and if they want to come to me, it is much easier than if I went to them without any clues.
Most of the girls of my generation in the village went out to work after junior high school, but my grandmother insisted that I study. She was an authentic rural woman who had not read for a few years, but knew that her children would not continue to take care of me in her hundred years, and simply thought that studying was my only way out. She didn't have a pension, so she saved up the money given by her aunts and uncles for the New Year's Festival, so that I could finish secondary school, and she saved up for college tuition and living expenses early.
When I grew up, I had to leave my grandmother to study abroad. Grandma doesn't use her smartphone, and I can only stop by to see my aunt on the phone occasionally.
Last year, my grandmother accidentally fell, and I came home from vacation to find that half of her face was black and dull-eyed, and I couldn't recognize who I was. I was anxious and distressed, but I couldn't do anything. It was a few more days before Grandma recognized me and called out my nickname. In some news, children from poor families or who are adopted are very successful and have been admitted to good universities. Compared with the two, I will have some inferiority, thinking how I am so bad, only admitted to college. I am now preparing for the exam for the Preparatory Examination, and if I do, I will have two years to graduate. I often think that if I had been born ten years earlier, I would have worked by now. I could take Grandma by my side and take good care of her.
*All characters in this article are pseudonyms
- END -
Planning | Wang Hengjin
Edit | Wen Lihong