Showing posts with label open records. Show all posts
Showing posts with label open records. Show all posts

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Half Blank



My husband and I were talking/dreaming the other day about a trip we'd like to take. He's been to Europe but I've never been. I'd like him to show me the sights - you know - do the tourist thing, see castles and country side, maybe do a river cruise. It's not something we can do anytime soon but for the fun of adding to the dream I thought I'd look into the requirements for a passport. I've never needed one before so I never thought about it. The first thing I noticed was the requirement for the original birth certificate and that the date on the certificate had to be within one year of the date of birth.

Well, my birth certificate is amended and is dated several years after my birth because I was adopted by my Dad. He's the only Dad I've ever known but he's not my natural father. I guess this makes me an adoptee-lite along with being a natural mother. I haven't talked about this other connection I have with adoption before because of the conditioning I grew up with. I didn't even find out about my adoption until I was 26 years old and here I am - 52 and just now talking about it - it took another 26 years. My family felt there was such a stigma connected to adoption that they didn't want anyone to know, even me - the one most affected.

Since becoming involved with the adoption community I've read stories from adoptees about finding out the truth as an adult. I can relate. Although I was raised by my mother and knew her side of the family, there is still another entire family I know very little about. To find out that you are not who you think you are is mind blowing. It's like your world tilts on it's axis and nothing is the same again. I remember one of the first thoughts I had was.... wow, I'm not really Cuban? that's just bizarre. Even the simple act of looking in the mirror changes. I didn't think any differently about Dad and I didn't/don't love him any less, it just brought another whole element into the equation about my identity. When I think about how much the news affected me, I can really feel for the adoptees who find this out when they're older and have zero information about either side of their natural families.

At the time I found out about my adoption it was 6 years after losing my daughter and my third child was just under a year old. I was trying to raise 2 little ones and keep my self together in dealing with the loss of my baby girl. There was a lot going on to say the least so I stewed on it for a while but then put it away. I had to focus on my kids. Now that I've started this blog, talk to other people in the adoption constellation, write letters and comments to people about access to OBC's for adoptees, all this stuff about my own adoption comes rushing back to the forefront. I don't know what that means for me. I'd like to find out more about my natural father's family. Maybe it'll mean no passport for me, not sure in my situation. I haven't researched enough yet to know.

There's been a lot of talk about Oprah's mother and her shame. I understand. It seems like it doesn't matter what angle you're coming from there's shame and secrecy involved. No more lies, no more shame, no more hiding. Done already.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Family Reunion


Family Reunion, Frederic Bazille, 1867, oil on canvas.

This looks like the idyllic reunion day. How nice to gather with family and celebrate that connection with each other. That's what a family reunion is - celebrating that we have connections. Unfortunately, for adoptees and their original families, those celebrations are few and far between.

Today, November 14 is the day I received "the call". It was the day I found out that my daughter had been found and she wanted to have contact with me. That was 9 years ago today. So, as you can see, November has quite the significance for me. It's not only National Adoption Awareness Month (grrrrrrr.... I hate the way it's used by so many in the industry to promote infant adoption) but it's also the month when I got my daughter back. It's the month of my first grandson's birthday too. Yesterday was J's 13 birthday. He turned 13 on the 13th. It was his golden birthday. I wasn't there when my daughter was pregnant with him, I wasn't there when he was born, I wasn't there during his first years. That makes me sad. Now that I'm watching my son's baby girl grow it really drives the point home that I missed out when my daughter was having her children. She has 3 boys. I wasn't there for the births of the first two. We didn't know each other then. I missed out on seeing my daughter become a mother. This is just another item on the long list of what adoption does to families.

One of my Facebook friends posted this article and it made me think about my grandchildren. So many people don't realize how much the rest of the family is affected when an adoptee doesn't know who they came from. That could have been my grandson, it could have been any adoptee's family. I've heard people say that records shouldn't be opened because an adoptee is just curious. What about life and death? Is that a good enough reason? Why should anyone have to jump through legal hoops to get their own information in order to save their child's life? Besides, what's wrong with being curious?

That day 9 years ago was one of the happiest days of my life - to find out that my daughter wanted to know me, that she was willing to be found. To all the legislators out there who hide behind the skirts of mothers like me - open the records! I was not promised anonymity, I didn't want anonymity, I wanted my daughter. Give people their family reunion. They have the right to know who they were before adoption. It's not your life, it's theirs.

Happy 9th reunion anniversary Liz, I love you.