I'm an adult adoptee who
reunited with my biological mother and father over twenty years ago. I
was 19 years old. At 19, I had already learned life is short. I had
lost two friends to car accidents, one in 1987 and another in 1989, my sophomore
and senior years of high school. I didn't make plans to go to college
like the vast majority of my classmates. I graduated without a clue as to
what I would do next. I hated school and I was a horrible student so
college seemed "out of reach," just like my guidance counselor told
my mother and me.
By the summer's end I
had decided to move to Florida
Once home again, and
finally over 18, I knew I could start to search for my "birth
mother." It was something I learned at 16 when my parents let me
first try to search by setting up an appointment at the agency where I was
adopted so I could ask about it. In the social workers office that day my
mother cried when she was asked what fears she had about my search, "if
she gets rejected it will destroy her," she had mumbled through her tears.
She really believed what she had been told - I was unwanted. I also
discovered that day my "birth parents" were married at the time they
"gave me up." This news had been the biggest shock to me.
It was something I fantasized about as a child but never ever expected
would be the case. I instantly became convinced I must have "real
siblings." My parents supported me through all of this, no small
feat. My mother had suffered from years of harsh treatment from her
mother-in-law for not producing children of her own back in the 1960s;
ironically years later to discover the cause of their infertility being my
father's burden.
My (biological) mother
was adopted herself, and although she reunited she has never found a way to
share that part of herself with me. I know who her parents were; when
they passed away a few years ago I was sad to learn I would never meet
them. I think the biggest reason for this was because her
(biological) mother refused to admit my mother was her daughter to anyone,
including her own children. She accepted my mother, she just couldn't
admit she had "given her up;" the three had on and off contact for
the rest of her life, but my (biological) grandparents died with their secret.
Her “birth mother and father” had also married, but unlike her and my “birth
father” they had stayed together and raised three children after "giving
her up."
My “birth father's” wife
gave birth to two beautiful daughters during the first few years after we met.
I was also able to meet his mother (my paternal grandmother) once before
she died; it is a memory I cherish. However, contact did not last more than
five years, my father decided to stop communication with me shortly after I
graduated college, a month before I was married, it was just before my 25th
birthday. "I can't do this anymore," he said over the phone. I
was sitting on my bed in my tiny apartment, "Ok," I replied, and then
we hung up. Twelve years later, as a doctoral student, I came across a
picture of my father and his daughters unexpectedly; my sisters were
approaching adulthood themselves, 16 and 17 years old. I sent the oldest
a message online. Sitting next to my “birth
father” at my sister's graduation is another memory I never want to let go of,
it was so fulfilling; that's the only word I can think of to describe it, fulfilling. We have not continued a relationship of any
kind, but just knowing that he is out there and he accepts me is enough.
When I gave birth to my
first daughter almost 15 years ago I realized how consuming a mother's (and
father's) love is for their vulnerable little baby. They are so in love
they can't take their eyes off of the tiny creature; they continue to search
her physical being for resemblances to themselves and their families. It
is an awesome time for new parents, in the true sense of the word.
It was then that I understood how even the mother who is totally
convinced she is "doing the right thing" must agonize over the loss
of her child. The child was physically part of her body one day, and gone
the next.
The [Man's] mind,
once stretched by a new idea,
never regains its original dimensions.
-
Oliver Wendell Holmes (1809-1894)
I conducted a short
study on adoption reunion as a doctoral student during one of my courses in
qualitative methods. A woman in the class approached me afterwards one
evening in the stairwell and blurted out, "I'm adopted. I was found
by my birth mother, she wrote me a letter telling me how she is so poor and she
was too poor to keep me but still thinks about me," her eyes flashed an
angry look as they filled with tears, "Your research makes it hard for me
to attend class, it's really uncomfortable. I've had a great life.
I don't want to hear about how awful hers has been. Not all
adoptees want this," she pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from her
pocket and shook it in my face then walked away.
I know it is not
in every adoptee's best interest to have a relationship with their biological
parents anymore than it is in every person's best interest to maintain a
relationship with any parent who is abusive or hurtful. I'm also aware
that what an adoptee finds on the other side can be traumatic. There is
no doubt in my mind that social status in society plays an important role in
how reunions unfold. I admit it was a
joy to find my biological mother was intelligent and had a career she loved.
The point is that it is the adult adoptee's Right to make that decision,
and any legal verbiage that denies that right is unjust. The Government
is not protecting children when they systematically deny individuals the right
to know who they are and where they came from. These laws were created to
protect the people with the power (i.e. money). While biological mothers
and fathers have gained more control over adoptions in the United States
If we want to protect
today's infant child as she or he is adopted we will STOP allowing
national and international adoptions without shared biological
information and INSIST that birth records are maintained and
never altered or sealed.
