I posted this video at Over A Candle, but it really belongs here, too.
I'm struggling with this right now. I'm a bit upset at being denied access to my original birth certificate, even though I know my birth parents' names. You might wonder why I would want it, if I know their names. It's one of those things that's probably hard to explain, but it's a link to the events that shaped my whole life. How could I not want it?
:(
Friday, October 26, 2007
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Coming Out
Last week, I had an odd experience. I was asked to speak to an adoption class. This was a class of a dozen or so couples who were preparing for adoption. The person who asked me to come speak had been very helpful to me during my reunion, so I thought the least I could do would be help out.
I wasn't the only one there. There was a birth mother and an adoptive couple. I spoke last. And listening to the birth mother and the adoptive mother speak, I realized I had little idea what they were talking about. Both had been through their experiences in the last six years. They were talking about what I've come to think about as adoption 2.0. I went through adoption 1.0. (Adoption beta is worse. My adoptive paternal grandmother went through something like what I think of as the beta version.)
Adoption 2.0 might not be better than 1.0. It has dangers and problems that we probably can't really see yet. But the kind of education and openness that seems common today seems to be an improvement over what happened forty years ago. (There were some odd things that came out. The big book of potential parents for the birth mother to look through to pick out parents for her child just struck me as odd.) Who knows, however, how these kids will feel when they are adults?
But the problems of 1.0 are pretty obvious. And that's what I tried to talk about. I stressed, as much as possible, that, whatever arrangement they decide for their child (whether open or not, and if so how open), they need to be open with the child. They need to find out as much as they can about the birth parents. Because their child is likely to want to know at some point. And if they don't have any information, their child is going to make something up.
It felt weird to talk as openly about my adoption as I did that night. Outside of my support group, this blog (which has focused more on reunion than on other issues), and a few extremely close friends, I don't think I've been that open about my experience. It went well, I suppose. But I hope I gave the potential parents issues to think about.
On another note... Given things going on in my head lately, I'm going to try to be more consistent about this place. I don't want it to die on the vine, as it were. So keep checking back. I'm not going anywhere.
I wasn't the only one there. There was a birth mother and an adoptive couple. I spoke last. And listening to the birth mother and the adoptive mother speak, I realized I had little idea what they were talking about. Both had been through their experiences in the last six years. They were talking about what I've come to think about as adoption 2.0. I went through adoption 1.0. (Adoption beta is worse. My adoptive paternal grandmother went through something like what I think of as the beta version.)
Adoption 2.0 might not be better than 1.0. It has dangers and problems that we probably can't really see yet. But the kind of education and openness that seems common today seems to be an improvement over what happened forty years ago. (There were some odd things that came out. The big book of potential parents for the birth mother to look through to pick out parents for her child just struck me as odd.) Who knows, however, how these kids will feel when they are adults?
But the problems of 1.0 are pretty obvious. And that's what I tried to talk about. I stressed, as much as possible, that, whatever arrangement they decide for their child (whether open or not, and if so how open), they need to be open with the child. They need to find out as much as they can about the birth parents. Because their child is likely to want to know at some point. And if they don't have any information, their child is going to make something up.
It felt weird to talk as openly about my adoption as I did that night. Outside of my support group, this blog (which has focused more on reunion than on other issues), and a few extremely close friends, I don't think I've been that open about my experience. It went well, I suppose. But I hope I gave the potential parents issues to think about.
On another note... Given things going on in my head lately, I'm going to try to be more consistent about this place. I don't want it to die on the vine, as it were. So keep checking back. I'm not going anywhere.
Phil, i'm sorry. i'm back
well, life does tend to stomp all over our hopeful endeavors with its own will and agenda, doesn't it? when i suggested to phil that we should start this blog, i did so with every intention of participating in it! but the delay of a broken computer was followed closely by the joy and insanity of a new relationship and then a strong jolt of reality when i realized just how little time i have to do the required research and writing for my master's thesis. in all, i just got damn busy and i fell off the blogosphere for a while. but i am back.
i think part of my avoidance has been this sense that while phil is going through this remarkable, intense, life-changing experience, i am not really doing anything. just sitting around thinking about it and having occasional conversations about my fake newspaper sister and the small north dakota town in which i was born. but i guess since i have already established that i desire to make this the slowest procedure possible, i can only talk about it from this moment and these minor subtle moments are my process. every adoptee will be able to relate to the great diversity with which we undertake the search-or-not-search decision-making process.
my parents visited from arizona in late august. while we were sitting in the coffee house one day, phil came in and i introduced him as my friend who was in the middle of a search for his birth family. this is the safest way to test the waters for their feelings about the whole thing. my mom bit. she was interested. we all chatted in fine, forced midwestern form and then phil opened his computer to work and my mom focused her attention on me. "have you ever done that?" she asked pointedly. "searched?" that is, in fact, what she meant. i told her about the photo in the paper and the intrigue it triggered in me. then i told her about the non-identifying search and the letter i received. she wanted to see the photo. she wanted to read the letter.
when i placed the photo in front of her, her eyeballs got really wide and her head bobbed in surprise. she saw the cause for question. then she read 5 pages about my birth family and she was genuinely interested and seemed to enjoy the mystery of it all.
my parents have told me my whole life that they would respect my need to find out about my biological roots if i wanted to do that. they have also told me my whole life that they would never want to be involved in that or to help me do it. i asked my mom about this seemingly reversed position. she said, "well, before it was kind of scary, but you've been with us for over 30 years, i don't think you're going anywhere."
i know now that i got my eye color and stature from my bio-mom. i can only hope that i will develop the strength of character that i have witnessed over the years in my mom-mom.
i think part of my avoidance has been this sense that while phil is going through this remarkable, intense, life-changing experience, i am not really doing anything. just sitting around thinking about it and having occasional conversations about my fake newspaper sister and the small north dakota town in which i was born. but i guess since i have already established that i desire to make this the slowest procedure possible, i can only talk about it from this moment and these minor subtle moments are my process. every adoptee will be able to relate to the great diversity with which we undertake the search-or-not-search decision-making process.
my parents visited from arizona in late august. while we were sitting in the coffee house one day, phil came in and i introduced him as my friend who was in the middle of a search for his birth family. this is the safest way to test the waters for their feelings about the whole thing. my mom bit. she was interested. we all chatted in fine, forced midwestern form and then phil opened his computer to work and my mom focused her attention on me. "have you ever done that?" she asked pointedly. "searched?" that is, in fact, what she meant. i told her about the photo in the paper and the intrigue it triggered in me. then i told her about the non-identifying search and the letter i received. she wanted to see the photo. she wanted to read the letter.
when i placed the photo in front of her, her eyeballs got really wide and her head bobbed in surprise. she saw the cause for question. then she read 5 pages about my birth family and she was genuinely interested and seemed to enjoy the mystery of it all.
my parents have told me my whole life that they would respect my need to find out about my biological roots if i wanted to do that. they have also told me my whole life that they would never want to be involved in that or to help me do it. i asked my mom about this seemingly reversed position. she said, "well, before it was kind of scary, but you've been with us for over 30 years, i don't think you're going anywhere."
i know now that i got my eye color and stature from my bio-mom. i can only hope that i will develop the strength of character that i have witnessed over the years in my mom-mom.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Holding Pattern
I'm in a bit of a holding pattern. Life has a way of... well... getting in the way.
My birth mother and I have met and we exchange regular e-mails. But... well... that's just about it for now.
We both feel like something else should be happening. There was this massive upheaval in finding one another, exchanging stories, getting to hug. But now, it feels like there's nothing. I think we both want there to be something. Some major next step. But nothing happens.
We live too far apart to visit often. Indeed, it will probably be months before we can see each other again. E-mail and the phone are nice, but not the same as being there.
The world kept moving, even while this earth-stopping event happened to the two of us. Now life has dragged us kicking and screaming back to itself. And we're left scratching our heads wondering... What's next?
My birth mother and I have met and we exchange regular e-mails. But... well... that's just about it for now.
We both feel like something else should be happening. There was this massive upheaval in finding one another, exchanging stories, getting to hug. But now, it feels like there's nothing. I think we both want there to be something. Some major next step. But nothing happens.
We live too far apart to visit often. Indeed, it will probably be months before we can see each other again. E-mail and the phone are nice, but not the same as being there.
The world kept moving, even while this earth-stopping event happened to the two of us. Now life has dragged us kicking and screaming back to itself. And we're left scratching our heads wondering... What's next?
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Round Two
Searching for my birth mother was hard. It brought up all kinds of emotions and fears. The initial reunion was also fraught with worries and anxiety. But here I stand, still alive, and at the beginning of a new stage in my life. The fears and worries (though not the emotions) seem to have dropped away for the most part. Life is good.
But it's not over. There is still the matter of my birth father. For my whole life, I never once can recall feeling angry at my birth mother for giving me up. She did what she thought was best. And I had a good life. What was there to feel angry about.
Now that I've been reunited with her, I know a bit more of her story. And a bit about who my birth father was, and how he acted. My birth mother recognizes that they both did things wrong, that it's not all his fault. But I'm ambivalent about most men already. And I can't help but feel a little upset at events that happened nearly forty years ago.
And I keep wondering how I can put myself through the roller-coaster again so soon. So maybe I'm using this knowledge of my birth father to avoid putting myself through it. Or maybe all the fears and worries are just gonig to come up again. I have no reason to think he's interested in finding me or knowing who I am. But maybe I'm wrong. And people can change a lot in 36 years. (Heck, people can change a lot in ten years.) Don't I at least owe him the chance to make the decision?
My birth mother thinks she knows where he is. I even think I know the address and phone number of his current residence. But when do I use that information? Should I? How long do I wait? How do I know I'm ready for round two? I certainly don't want to wait another 36 years. But I don't know how to figure this out, either.
I guess it never really ends. And I think I knew that already. But sometimes the universe seems to really enjoy reminding me anyway.
But it's not over. There is still the matter of my birth father. For my whole life, I never once can recall feeling angry at my birth mother for giving me up. She did what she thought was best. And I had a good life. What was there to feel angry about.
Now that I've been reunited with her, I know a bit more of her story. And a bit about who my birth father was, and how he acted. My birth mother recognizes that they both did things wrong, that it's not all his fault. But I'm ambivalent about most men already. And I can't help but feel a little upset at events that happened nearly forty years ago.
And I keep wondering how I can put myself through the roller-coaster again so soon. So maybe I'm using this knowledge of my birth father to avoid putting myself through it. Or maybe all the fears and worries are just gonig to come up again. I have no reason to think he's interested in finding me or knowing who I am. But maybe I'm wrong. And people can change a lot in 36 years. (Heck, people can change a lot in ten years.) Don't I at least owe him the chance to make the decision?
My birth mother thinks she knows where he is. I even think I know the address and phone number of his current residence. But when do I use that information? Should I? How long do I wait? How do I know I'm ready for round two? I certainly don't want to wait another 36 years. But I don't know how to figure this out, either.
I guess it never really ends. And I think I knew that already. But sometimes the universe seems to really enjoy reminding me anyway.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Second Phone Call
My birth mother and I had our second real phone conversation last night. (We talked once or twice briefly when she visited to arrange meeting.) Our first phone call felt awkward to me. I was nervous as could be, and there were long moments of silence. But this time felt natural and easy. I know I felt more comfortable talking. We have been e-mailing a lot, and that is great for telling long stories and getting to know one another. But the phone conversations seem important, too. They allow for a more natural and informal kind of give and take. It was just a nice conversation.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Random Encounter
I've been reading Jean A. S. Strauss' Birthright. It's a wonderful book so far. I think I can recommend it highly to anyone doing a search, or anyone who cares about someone going through a search. I'm not quite a third of the way through it, but it is very engaging. A bit of a mix between the practical and the therapeutic. Some of the practical search recommendations may be a little outdated. (But I actually don't think so. It just was so much easier for me that I didn't have to do as much work as she describes. I was prepared to do so; I just got lucky.)
Anyway, as I say, I've been reading the book. I had to be in the hospital the last couple of mornings for some tests. While waiting between the different bits, I went to the cafeteria to get some food. I had brought the book with me to occupy the down times. As I was paying, the woman the register noticed the book. I had actually been a bit sheepish carrying it around with me. I keep expecting people to think that I'm doing something wrong for searching.
But the woman at the register seemed excited. She asked if I was adopted. I said I was. She wanted to know if I was searching, and I explained that I had just found my birth mother. She seemed genuinely happy for me. We had a neat little conversation about it. She apologized for being nosy. It didn't actually bother me, and I assured her of that. It was actually kind of neat that she seemed curious in a positive way. It made me feel better about being more open about searching.
For some reason, events like this fill me with a little bit of happiness and wonder about the world.
Anyway, as I say, I've been reading the book. I had to be in the hospital the last couple of mornings for some tests. While waiting between the different bits, I went to the cafeteria to get some food. I had brought the book with me to occupy the down times. As I was paying, the woman the register noticed the book. I had actually been a bit sheepish carrying it around with me. I keep expecting people to think that I'm doing something wrong for searching.
But the woman at the register seemed excited. She asked if I was adopted. I said I was. She wanted to know if I was searching, and I explained that I had just found my birth mother. She seemed genuinely happy for me. We had a neat little conversation about it. She apologized for being nosy. It didn't actually bother me, and I assured her of that. It was actually kind of neat that she seemed curious in a positive way. It made me feel better about being more open about searching.
For some reason, events like this fill me with a little bit of happiness and wonder about the world.
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