(57 Weeks)
Twenty-nine years ago this week, I found my “other” family. My first family.
Unlike many adoptees, I didn’t set out to look for my biological parents. It just kind of happened.
When I was growing up, I was so appreciative of my adoptive parents and the life that they gave me, that I didn’t even want to think about those other people, let alone actually look for them. I thought that might hurt my parents. And I believed they didn’t deserve that.
I guess I just assumed my biological mother died in childbirth and never gave a second thought to anyone else. Siblings, extended family weren’t something I allowed myself to consider.
When I was almost 30, I obtained for the first time in my life a copy of my original Irish birth cert. Noting the name of my mother and her address at the time of my birth, I placed a call to international directory assistance. They gave me a number and a couple calls and about 48 hours later, I was on the phone speaking to the woman who hadn’t seen me in almost three decades.
It would be another five years before I shared this news with my adoptive parents.
During my bio-mother’s visit to New Jersey in 2005, I asked my parents if they would like to meet her and my mom quickly and simply said, “No.” I believe my dad was more curious and would have said yes. But successful marriages are built on knowing when to keep your mouth shut and my dad was a pro!
It pains me a little to think that my mom was bothered by or felt a sense of competition by my relationship with my bio-mother. Wanting to know who you are and where you came from is every person’s right, not to be taken personally by anyone else. There is this constant void in our lives. This is something that non-adoptees simply don’t realize. And it’s a negative piece about adoption that has many adult adoptees coming out against the practice.
There is a lot of information on the pros and cons of adoption. There are horror stories about the unmarried young woman and girls – especially in Ireland – who were made to feel disgraced and forced to surrender their babies. Although my adoption was handled by Sean Ross Abbey, the agency featured in the 2013 movie Philomena starring Judi Dench, my circumstances were very different. My bio-mother was a 30-year-old who had an affair. She would tell you her husband forced her to give me up. But who knows. I have biological half-siblings who we now know weren’t the child of her husband, and yet they remained in the family. But I digress.
I was never in need of another mother. Nor a father. My bio-father died in 1973. What I did lack growing up were siblings – and ties to the extended family that were my people. I was raised in an Irish Catholic home, so culturally similar. One might make a case that growing up in a wealthy suburb of New York City gave me a much better life than if I had been raised on a farm in rural Ireland. But I now know my siblings who did, and they all seemed to turn out just fine, and have pleasant memories of childhood.
I have now known of my biological family for almost half my life. I have been able to put together my family tree in Ancestry (I have two: my Irish family and my adoptive family). I have a genuine relationship with them, and they have been very supportive at some difficult times in my life. I’ve been to family weddings. We’ve even run together.
I don’t know that I would change anything. Although when I am unable to be a part of family gatherings because there’s an entire ocean and another 800 miles separating us, sure I get a little FOMO and wish I was part of it. Mostly, I’m grateful that my first family is ultimately still family.
Did you really think this wasn’t going to include a fundraiser? It’s me. Of course it is! Over the course of these 60 weeks, I am hoping to raise $6000 for the children of Mercy Home for Boys & Girls (that’s just $100 a week!). To learn more about Mercy Home and my why, please visit my fundraising page. Thank you.
