I will be getting back to my regular blogging soon, but something unexpected came up and it’s been occupying my thoughts.
When I was born, I was adopted. I came into the hospital with one set of parents and left with another. I was told at a very young age, as soon as I could understand. I’ve been pretty open about it with friends because it’s never been a negative in my life, a lesson I learned from my parents. My family is rooted as mine as much as anyone who is not adopted. I’ve always felt it reciprocated by my parents and siblings alike. I was a wanted child.
During the funeral of my grandmother in May, my mother quite unexpectedly started volunteering information about my birth parents. It was quite unprompted on my part; I believe the death of her mother was the catalyst. After a few weeks I decided to email her for the information so I would have a record. I sat on it and considered what to do. Is it right to contact someone who carried you and gave you up 42 years ago? What if reaching out is painful or opens old wounds? What if it’s better not knowing? What if they’re bad people? What if …. Many questions rolled around in my head as I considered what to do.
The agency that connected the people: my parents, my biological parents and myself was Catholic Charities. Finally I decided to look online and see what options there were. I debated filling out entries on adoption meet up sites. I downloaded forms from Catholic Charities (still sitting on my desk). I talked with other adopted friends and they shared their experiences on finding their biological families – they had mixed stories but not one of them regretted it. I was ready to fork over the money.
But for what?
The website for Catholic Charities states they make no promises on results. There were legal waivers to be notarized, sent in the mail. Again, I stalled and tried to figure out what to do. Then I turned to an old friend … Google.
My mother had given me enough information, details about the people who had parted with me. She also had my birth mother’s name perfectly remembered 42 years later, uncommon spelling and all. Google didn’t let me down.
So I found her and cast an email out. Time passed. I wasn’t worried, it took me two months to decide to reach out myself. Then yesterday, it happened.
What happens next? We’ve been corresponding via email and are making plans to meet face to face. It’s exciting. Both of us felt shock at the sudden connection. Neither of us have experienced the pain that could have come. Not yet at least.
More will come of this. In the meantime, I have a very supportive mother, siblings and Saumya. My life is good, secure. It should be a good meeting.
Life never ceases to surprise me. Three months ago I would have never guessed this would be happening. Six years ago I would have laughed at you if you asked me what my life would be like today. I continue to be amazed at the curves that are thrown, but rarely disappointed.
This likely will be my only post on the subject, it was necessary to clear my head a bit. This was occupying an otherwise active mind for the other blogging I do. Next post should be back to deeper waters; I have something written, but I’m scrapping and re-writing it. Like this post, it has deep revelations within.
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