For Abeni, adoption isn’t just part of her story—it’s something that has shaped her life from every angle.
Adopted at three years old after spending her earliest years in foster care, Abeni grew up in a family where adoption wasn’t unusual—it was part of a legacy. Her mother had been adopted. Her grandfather had been adopted. It was something openly acknowledged, even embraced.
But even in a home where adoption was normalized, the experience of being adopted came with layers that unfolded over time.
Growing Up Adopted
Abeni didn’t fully understand what it meant to be adopted until she was about seven years old, when a moment of unexpected attention brought it into focus. Suddenly, she found herself explaining her story to classmates and adults—often without having the language or space to process it herself.
Like many adopted children, she stepped into the role of “explainer” early on.
“There’s this assumption,” she shared, “that if you’re adopted, you don’t have parents. And I was always like—no, I do. These are my parents.”
Her family reinforced that message. Adoption wasn’t something that made her different—it was something that made her chosen. Loved. Wanted.
And for a long time, that was enough.
The Questions That Come With Time
As Abeni got older, new questions began to surface—not because something was missing in her family, but because identity naturally evolves.
One moment stood out. A cousin asked why there were no baby pictures of her in the house.
“I realized there was a whole part of my life that didn’t exist in the same way,” she said.
That realization didn’t diminish her love for her family—but it did spark curiosity.
Like many adoptees, Abeni found herself wondering:
- Where did I come from?
- Who do I look like?
- What parts of me belong to someone I’ve never met?
These questions aren’t signs of discontent—they’re part of being human. And for adoptees, they often carry extra weight.
Searching for Answers
In her late twenties, Abeni decided to begin searching for her biological parents. What started as curiosity quickly became a complex emotional journey.
She prepared herself by attending an adoptee support group—but what she found there was unexpected. Many people shared painful reunion experiences—rejection, unanswered questions, or relationships that didn’t turn out the way they hoped.
It forced her to confront something she hadn’t fully considered:
Not every story has a happy ending.
Still, she moved forward.
With the help of friends, persistence, and a bit of unexpected connection, Abeni found her biological mother—and later, her biological father.
Reunion, Reality, and Perspective
Meeting her biological mother was powerful—and complicated.
They spent hours talking, unpacking a life filled with hardship, including addiction, incarceration, and trauma. Her biological mother had endured experiences Abeni had never imagined, including human trafficking.
And in that moment, everything shifted.
“I had this overwhelming sense of gratitude for my parents,” Abeni said. “My life would have been completely different.”
Her reunion didn’t replace her family—it expanded her understanding of it.
Soon after, she connected with her biological father and discovered a large extended family she never knew existed.
The experience gave her something many adoptees search for: context.
Not just who she came from—but why her life unfolded the way it did.
Becoming an Adoptive Parent
Years later, Abeni’s story came full circle.
When a baby in her extended family was born into unsafe circumstances, Abeni was asked if she would consider adopting her. What followed was a long, emotional journey—filled with court hearings, uncertainty, and the weight of not knowing if the child she loved would be able to stay.
For over a year, she lived in that in-between space so many foster and adoptive families know well—loving fully, while waiting for answers.
In the end, the adoption was finalized.
Today, Abeni is raising her daughter with a deep understanding of what adoption means—not just legally, but emotionally.
Centering the Child’s Experience
Through her journey—as an adoptee, a parent, and a professional working with youth—Abeni has learned something critical:
Adoption is not a single moment. It’s a lifelong experience.
And for children, that experience is layered.
“There’s a tendency to use the word ‘trauma’ a lot,” she said. “But more than anything, it’s about centering the child. Asking—what do you need? What helps you feel safe?”
Her advice to adoptive parents is simple, but powerful:
Listen. Slow down. Make space for their feelings.
Because even in the most loving homes, adopted children may carry questions, grief, curiosity, or confusion—and those feelings deserve to be acknowledged, not dismissed.
How We Support Families at Every Stage
Abeni’s story highlights something we see every day: adoption doesn’t begin or end in the courtroom.
It’s a journey that requires support at every stage—and that’s where Koinonia comes in.
Before adoption, Koinonia prepares families through training, education, and honest conversations about what adoption can look like—not just the joy, but the complexity. Families are equipped with tools to understand trauma, attachment, and the lifelong impact adoption can have on a child’s identity.
During the process, Koinonia walks alongside families with guidance, advocacy, and consistent support—especially in moments of uncertainty. Whether navigating the foster-to-adopt process or facing legal and emotional challenges, families are never left to figure it out alone.
After adoption, support doesn’t stop—it deepens. As children grow, new questions, emotions, and identity challenges often surface. Koinonia continues to support families through ongoing services, connection, and trauma-informed care—helping parents navigate those moments with confidence and compassion.
This is where Abeni’s role comes full circle.
Now serving as a Parent Partner at Koinonia’s Post-Adoption Wraparound Program, Abeni works directly with families who have adopted or are navigating the complexities of adoption. She brings not only professional insight, but lived experience—offering guidance that is both practical and deeply personal.
She understands what it feels like to have questions. To search for identity. To hold both gratitude and curiosity at the same time.
Her story is a reminder that adoption is not just about providing a home—it’s about understanding a whole person.
Their past. Their questions. Their voice.
And when we center that—when we truly listen—we create something stronger than stability.
We create belonging.
Kaitlin Earnest, Contributor