Having an Adopted Sister

“Hi, my name is Meredith. I am from Chicago, and I have three older brothers and a younger sister.” 

I remember being five years old, wearing a Cinderella princess costume while playing in my purple playroom… the age where everything had to be pink or purple, and if it wasn’t, I did not want it. The worst thing in the world was the day my Cinderella dress was being washed and I had to wear something else. 

Having three older brothers caused me to beg my parents for a little sister. I even told my teacher that I had a dream that there would be more girls than boys in the world. 

I was five years old when I saw a picture of my little sister for the first time. I looked at the picture and smiled with excitement. My mom and dad showed me a picture of this little girl and told me that she was my little sister, and at that moment I did not question anything. Her bald head, pale skin, freckled nose, and eyes as dark as night are forever imprinted on my mind. Whenever I think of her, I think of the first time I held her picture in my hands. 

Being five years old, I did not comprehend what adoption was. My parents told me that Mia was my sister from China and would be here very soon. Not once did I question if Mia was truly my sister or not. 

The adoption process is a difficult one and requires months of paperwork which is stressful for all involved. A year after I held that picture in my hand, I met Mia. 

Every year, we take a family picture, and I never notice that Mia looks different than the rest of the family. Growing up, I never asked questions about why Mia did not look like me, or why other people do not have an adopted sister. It never occurred to me that when people look at me and then look at Mia, they don’t automatically assume we are sisters.

I began to notice the questions my mom would be asked when my family and I went to public places. Questions such as “Are they both your daughters?” and “How are you all related?” began to bother me. My mom answered the questions in a respectful manner, but I knew they bothered her as much as they bothered me. Mia is as much of a sister to me than any biological siblings I have.

I understood that people were not trying to be rude, but their comments and questions were hard to hear. No one has to explain how they are related to their siblings, so why should I?

Growing up with an adopted sister was always normal to me. As I got older, my parents began to reveal more about Mia and her family to me. Truth is, they knew very little about Mia. She was left in a public facility in China and taken to the orphanage. She was left with no name, no birth certificate or any form of identification. Not being able to give Mia these answers is something that I struggle with, as she deserves to know. Mia’s sassy, bubbly, outgoing, and caring personality is the glue of my family. Her strength and courage amazes me. 

I never knew how much having an adopted sibling could change someone’s life. Mia has undoubtedly been the biggest inspiration to my family and I. 17 years ago I held a picture of Tian Maio Rao in my hands, and today I hold Mia Anne, an angel from far away so close to my heart.