Imagine.

You are only a few months old. You live in Miami, Florida. Your mother drops you off with a sitter to watch you.  After your mother does not return for several days, the sitter drops you off at the Miami food stamp office where she thinks you will probably receive help. You are taken to another unknown place, the Crisis Center in Miami with lots of other children in similar situations as you.

Homeless. Motherless. Seemingly unwanted.

This was the unfortunate reality I was confronted with at 19-months old, dropped off place to place before entering the foster care system. 

This is not just a story about adversity, determination and triumph. This is a story about how one instance and two people completely changed the trajectory of my life. This is a story about my adoption.

At 19 months old, I was adopted by Gregory and Patrice Jenkins at the Miami, Florida Crisis Center. My name was changed to Shelby, originating from “she shall be mine”, so my adopted father could always be reminded of how he and my adopted mother fought to adopt me- a testament to combat any thought that I was anything less then wanted.

As I reflect on my story I struggle with the term Wanted- such a strange word to capture the value of a life and so vast the sum of roads to demonstrate the act of wanting. To be clear I was always wanted. Wanted by a biological mother who for reasons that remain unclear,  birthed me, left me with a sitter, and came back to look for me, eventually succumbing to the demons that plagued her, I would learn later in life.

In the end the state would find my mother unable to care for me, changing my experience of wanted by two people who persisted in my welfare. fighting through the complications and red tape, determined to call me daughter, even before I could do anything to reciprocate their fierce devotion and love. Wanted. I have always been wanted.

I remember going home and seeing all of the faces of people who wanted me, to hold me, talk to me, hug me.  Although this was my new family, I experienced feelings that most adopted and foster care children experience in a new home.

Unknown. Unfamiliar. Strange.

In 1992, Miami, Florida was hit with an incredibly devastating hurricane. I was still a child and remember huddling in the closet with my god brother trying to stay safe and dry from the storm. Reflecting on that event, I often wonder where I would have been at that time if my mother would not have taken me to the sitter’s house that led to my eventual adoption. I question whether I would have been safe, even alive.

At 10 years old my adoptive parents told me that I was adopted. Time froze as I tried to make sense of my origins while masquerading as if the news of my adoption had no effect on me.  For years I struggled with sharing my story because I feared what other children would think of me.  I worried they would not understand.  These fears followed me to college. When an opportunity arose for me to share my story however, I finally put a voice to the child who froze at 10 and by doing so released her to heal. I felt empowerment, I felt completion, I felt beautiful. In sharing my story, a whole world opened to me, with the people in it sharing their stories with me. I had no idea I was living in a community with so many lives touched by adoption!

Empowerment. Inspiration. Passion.

Today “Thank you” are the two simple words I would say to my biological mother if I ever had the chance to speak with her.  I have played the circumstances that influenced her choices when I was so vulnerable, and have come to the conclusion that regardless of the thousands of scenarios, my mother’s choices ultimately led to the trajectory of my life being interrupted and my becoming Shelby Jenkins. Thankfulness, joy and compassion are what fill my heart today. Thankfulness to my mother for taking me to a sitter, joy that wonderful parents adopted me, and compassion for the 107,000 children who still need a forever family.

Thankfulness. Joy. Compassion.

Who would the little child dropped off at the food stamp office in Miami, Florida be today had her mother made different choices? We will never know.

What we do know is that she would not be Shelby Patrice Jenkins, probably not Miss US Texas International, and probably not Adoption-Share’s 2016 Ambassador.

Adoption changed my life. Adoption saved my life.

Can you imagine what you could do for a child?

As Ambassador for Adoption-Share’s 2016 Adoption is Beautiful Campaign, I invite you to share how adoption has impacted your life.  Join us as we raise awareness about adoption through story telling  at adoptionisbeautiful.org