I found my birth mom 10 years ago, but before then I was okay. Most of us adoptees are okay, contrary to what you might hear. We aren’t the ones doing interviews or writing books about our adoption, we’re busy doing other things. But we’re out there. And we’re probably your son or daughter.
I never felt abandoned or had an identity crisis any greater than my adolescent peers. I always knew I was an adoptee, but I was also a pianist, a Floridian, a student who loved school and a ravenous consumer of all things banana-flavored. I don’t recall feeling like something was missing and I’m surely not traumatized. I carried a deep respect for my birth mom from an early age and being adopted provided me with the maturity of knowing that life doesn’t always goes as planned.
What led me to search for my birth mom was curiosity and I came away with a fun and beautiful relationship. Among the community of adoptees that I grew-up with, I’m in the minority. No one else is interested in searching for their biological family. For a while, I begged my 25-year-old adopted brother to let me find his birth family. I had enough non-identifying information that led me to believe I could look them up fairly easily. He declined. I can assure you he has no ill feelings, and when pressed he said that if his birth mom found him, he would want to meet her.
So birth moms whatever you chose and whatever you continue to choose, it’s okay. Closed adoption, open adoption, searching for us, not searching for us, you’re our birth mother and we love you either way.
*A special love to my birth mom Linda and to my daughter’s birth mom “A.”