CHOSEN FOR LIFE

Welcome to the beginning of my life.

I was adopted as a baby, and I will be forever grateful that my birth mother gave me life. It was 1964, but she still could have chosen an abortion. It would have been so much easier for her. Because she didn’t do that, I’m sitting here today. 

She chose life for me when I couldn’t choose it for myself.

I went home with my mom and dad when I was about three weeks old. My brothers and I always knew we were adopted because we talked about it as a family throughout our lives. So there was never a “big revelation” about being adopted that shocked me into a desperate search. I didn’t need another mom, and I didn’t have an empty place in me that I was looking to fill, no connection I was desperate to make.

But I did think about her some, especially after my daughter was born, and so I kind of played around the edges of the search. Mine was a closed adoption through an agency, which meant I only had access to the medical background provided in 1964. For years I pulled one thread at a time, and then suddenly … it all just undid itself at once.

I had written a letter to the adoption agency saying I was interested in more information, and my bio mom had written a similar one years before. Someone at the agency opened the file, found both of the letters in it, and called me. I can remember exactly where I was standing, what I was wearing and every word of that shocking conversation. Basically she said, “Guess what we found in your file! Do you want to be in contact with your birth mother?”

When I recovered I said, “Well, yeah, but only if YOU contact her!” Because I was way too scared. It happened so quickly, and OH all the feelings! Once I got past the utter surprise, I quickly began to feel a combination of extremes –  crazy excitement, and very intense anxiety.

My mind swirled with the possibilities – would she resent me, hate me, why would she want me now? Would I somehow be a disappointment? And – this was a big one – I did NOT want to disrupt her life.

When the agency contacted her, she said she did want to know me. So we began a careful dance of getting to know about each other through letters and phone calls. When she stepped out of her car the day we met in person, it was like I was looking in the mirror, a moment that was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

I don’t look like my parents. I don’t look like my brothers. But my bio mom and I are physical carbon copies of each other, even down to the way we cross our legs. Things that shouldn’t be possible when I didn’t grow up with her were really fun to discover.

Later, I found out that the only other person who knew I existed was one of her brothers. Theirs is a really really big family and she began wanting to introduce me, especially at their reunions. Imagine! I was coming from a pretty insecure place at that time because – excuse my language – I’m the bastard child, right? Who in that family would want anything to do with me? In fairness, I’m sure the whole scenario was shocking and weird to all of them too.

Back up a minute.

I don’t think I even told Mom and Dad I was looking for her, because I was so fearful of hurting them.

I wanted them to be confident in the absolute truth that finding her didn’t have anything to do with them. I told them, “You’re my parents, period.”  It was really hard to make myself go have that conversation. But you know what? I did not get a bad reaction from them at all. Looking back on it, Mom said that they were just happy that we had connected.

I’ve got several bio siblings, and one of my brothers came to visit me not long ago. (We had a blast!) At one point I asked him what his reaction was when he found out about me. He said, “Well, I was very angry at first.” What? I’ve known him for more than 30 years now, and this was news to me.  It turns out he had a very good reason for being angry, because bio mom did not tell him about me herself … instead she told someone else who then told him, and OF COURSE that was really upsetting.

Immediately, I wanted to know how he didn’t transfer that anger to me. His answer? I love this … “Well, because it didn’t have anything to do with you.”

I asked him what he had hoped for with me. He said, “I just hoped for a good relationship and we’ve exceeded that.” I wholeheartedly agree.

One of the most confusing and difficult things for me has been that there are really no labels, no rules, for a relationship between birth parents and adoptees. She was not my mom, but she did have a unique place in my life for a time. What started out as something lovely ended badly. Expectations on both sides can be flawed and difficult. Boundaries can feel fluid. And for me, I always felt like I was on the outside looking in. I constantly walked on eggshells, knowing somewhere down deep inside me that I was only one misstep away from a final rejection. That can be a really tricky thing to navigate, and in my case the relationship with her changed over time. In fact it did end in complete and total rejection. I’ll be forever sad about that, and yet there is also some relief in it.

I hold on to the lovely, refuse to dwell on the rest because it steals my joy, and again I repeat … I am SO VERY grateful that she chose life for me.

Please take the time to listen to this whole interview with Jan on her podcast “Just Talkin’ About Jesus.” I guested with my new friend Jackie, who placed two daughters for adoption at birth. Her story is remarkable.

As always, I would love to hear from you. Do you have an adoption story? Were you surprised by anything you read here (or heard on the podcast)?

Next week, I’m featuring Mom and Dad – stay tuned for their side of the story!

Love,

Angie