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For years, I lived with a family secret.
At 17, I became pregnant, and my life was turned upside down. Grad celebrations were interrupted, and I became a teen statistic. Shock, fear and shame turned to panic.
For years, the haunting secret ate me up inside. My daughters did not know the truth--that they had a brother who had been placed for adoption. I felt like I had a big weight on me and didn't know what to do about it. I wanted to tell my daughters, but how and what would I tell?
One night, I had a spiritual experience of "awakening " with thoughts of reconnecting with a teenager estranged from me since days after his birth. Then I knew that the secret would have to come out. I feared I would come off my pedestal as I prepared myself to tell my children --but when I finally chose the moment, it turned out to be a positive experience.
My daughter, Tammy, adopted at birth, had struggled with her own adoption. In her mind, anyone who could "give away " a child must be a terrible person. I started out by saying I had something important to tell her and that I had wanted to tell her before but had kept putting it off because it was so hard to talk about. She looked pretty apprehensive, sitting there drinking her coke.
I said, "Before I married your dad, I had a baby, and he was placed for adoption. My boyfriend left when I told him I was going to have a baby. At that time, there were no real options if you were pregnant and not married. "
Tammy sputtered her coke as her mouth dropped open. She responded, "You must understand what it was like when my mom had to give me away. "
Charm, my daughter by birth (now herself a mother of three children adopted as a sibling group), was eager to meet the brother she'd always wanted. Bringing my past into the open was a catalyst for bringing us all closer together.
My husband Lorne and I persisted in the search for my son Rob. When the initial contact was made, Rob's adoptive parents were reluctant for any communication and were adamant there would be no reunion. I was afraid of hurting or upsetting his adoptive family, but Lorne encouraged me to continue. There were prayers, phone calls and letters, and then their hearts began to change. The adoptive parents needed to be assured that we were not planning to take Rob away from them.
My parents had concerns I might open up old wounds, but I couldn't put my "awakening " experience out of my mind. I told my parents and others, "I believe I am supposed to find my son, and I need to be in communication with him by his 19th birthday. " I went out and bought him a birthday card. My daughters wondered why I would buy a card when I didn't have a clue where to send it.
Lorne made the initial contact with the adoptive family. It was one of the most difficult phone calls of his life. He felt the chill right away as they tried to put him off. Knowing that these folks shared our faith in God, Lorne continued, telling them that I had been praying for Rob all through the years and that I thought God was directing me to find him. They began to warm up as he emphasized that I did not intend to take over as Rob's mother but simply wanted Rob to know I was available to be contacted by him if he wanted that. Here is what I wrote to my son's adoptive mother:
Dear Dorothy,
So why don't I leave well enough alone? Because people other than you and me are involved here. Our children did not choose their heredity or environment. They cope best with truth and openness. As your son's birth mother, I have never stopped loving, caring or praying for him and you, his adoptive parents. He carries in his being a part of me. I hold the key to his biological roots, and I wish to give him that key.
Ann
Dorothy says that when we raised the idea of reunification, it was the most terrible time of herlife. She felt I had no right to come into her life after all this time.
Rob, however, wanted to meet me. Things moved quickly from that point, and a few months later my son was at the door. Nothing could have prepared me for that moment. There was an immediate embrace, and our eyes locked. It seemed natural and somehow strangely familiar. I felt as though buckets of healing ointment were flowing through me. I knew I was being healed so that I might help others to heal, too.
Reunion is never easy. There's often an awkwardness, but for persons impacted by adoption, it may be important to their healing journey. Counselling should be considered when embarking on a search or deciding to register for reunion.
Ann Welwood is director of programs and client services for Hope Pregnancy and Adoption Services in Abbotsford, B.C.
Long days of uncertainty were over, negative medical reports forgotten. At last, our beautiful son was in my husband's arms.
Life without children had been a completely foreign thought to us. To have a child was the dream of our lives. When friends announced expectations and we had none, we were desolate. Adoption had been on the agenda, but serious illness and financial glitches interrupted our plans. With tears, we committed this situation to God.
A telephone call changed our lives. "Would you like to adopt a baby?" enquired the caller.
"Yes, " was our immediate reply. This private adoption was tangled in red tape, but at last the great day arrived, and with tears of ecstasy we brought our baby home.
The following years were wonderful! Our lives revolved around this child who brought us such joy. From his earliest days, we discussed his adoption freely.
Then came the day, at six years old, when our son blurted out words that made my heart stand still: "Mommy, didn't the lady that borned me love me?"
Holding him close, I explained that the lady had loved him greatly but did not have a daddy for him, and she knew how much little boys needed daddies. My answer satisfied him, but from that moment I lived with an indefinable terror: What would I ever do if she found him?
Close to our son's 19th birthday, my worst fear was realized: A long-distance caller informed us that the birth mother had traced the whereabouts of her child. Would we be willing to reunite?
"No!" was my reply. I raced to our minister, doctor and lawyer for advice, and begged God to keep this woman out of our lives. My heartache intensified when our son decided he would like to meet her. For days, I cried and wrestled with hostility and hatred.
Then one morning, I thought of a Babe given in Bethlehem long ago. Suddenly, a thought burned into my mind: God shared His Son. Can I not share mine? In that instant, I said "Yes ", and peace and joy enveloped me. Days later, we confidently walked down the hall of a Vancouver hotel to open the door to a new relationship.
Today, our son is closer than ever to us. He is part of a loving, extended family. Life for all of us has been enriched beyond measure. Rob, his birth mother and I have shared our story many times.
Someone once said to me after I'd shared my testimony, "I enjoyed your story, but it is not natural for a child to have two mothers."
I couldn't agree more. It is supernatural.
<I>Dorothy Sorenson lives with her husband in Victoria, B.C.
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