Bumps in the Road.

I am coming off a big dry spell. Sometimes, I feel like writing page after page and then there are the times where there just isn’t anything. All the thoughts go back in my head and just swirl around.

I had dinner with my parents and brought them up to speed on the reunion. I was pleasantly surprised how supportive they were. After dinner, I asked them how they would feel about receiving a letter from my birth mother. This had been suggested by the post adoption counselor as a way for my birth mother to get some closure and she had already asked several times if she could send them a letter.

My parents were agreeable and my father said that “they would be delighted to hear from her”. I called my birth mother with their address and figured all was well. Seemed fairly simple.

Well, sometimes a whole bunch of situations come together at once and the result is awkward at best. So we have to back up things up just a little.

My birth mother had previously asked to see the non-identifying information I had received at the start of the process. I read it over and figured there wasn’t anything that would be upsetting so I gave her a copy. I figured it was a pretty unemotional account of the circumstances that lead to my adoption. What a huge mistake.

My birth mother called me and was upset that the non-identifying report “sounded so cold” and made it sound like she was only thinking of herself. This was interesting because I never, ever got that impression. She was also very concerned that statements were attributed to her regarding my birth father and his family that were less then flattering.

She had contacted the agency to find out what would be necessary to view the adoption records and got a “just be happy the reunion is going well” type of response. A brush off or an attempt at protecting her feelings? I decided to intervene on her behalf and called the agency.

Deep down, I wonder if I am doing this because subconsciously I want to please her. I don’t want to be given away again. If I do all the right things, she will want me.

I pointed out to the people at the agency that my birth mother and I were the only two people still living who would have any interest in these records so it seemed reasonable to have access to them. They completely agreed and asked for an authorization from my parents to release the information.

I sent a quick email to my parents thinking it was a simple request. Unfortunately, the email coincided with the letter from my birth mother and it appears it shook them up. My mother emailed back that she had “received the letter and would forward it to me”. No other comment and certainly no emotion. What did my birth mother write in that letter and why wouldn’t my parents want to keep it? And they put off the authorization request until they return from vacation in three weeks? Did I think they were furthur along in this process than they really are?

I’ll just have to wait until I receive that letter to see where the road is going next.

Dinner and a Conversation.

Today, my parents are coming over for dinner.

Although they are aware I have met with my birth mother, I feel the need to let them know that my initial meeting is growing into so much more. I want them to know that a relationship is slowly building.

What is this relationship though? A friendship? It is certainly much more than that. Is it the relationship of a mother and son? No, it isn’t quite that. I guess it is a relationship that just defies description.

It is odd that I sometimes try to fit this relationship into a conventional format and other times I am comfortable letting it be what it is. I read about others trying to come to grips with defining the relationship. Birth mother, birth son, mother, son, adoptive this, adoptive that.

It is also odd that I have slipped on occasion. During a recent conversation with my birthmother, I referred to one of her children as her oldest son. As the words came out of my mouth, I realized my mistake. I guess I really would be her oldest son.

Pronunciation: ’s&n
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English sone, from Old English sunu; akin to Old High German sun son, Greek hyios
1 a : a human male offspring especially of human beings b : a male adopted child c : a human male descendant

It is fascinating that so many people, including myself, feel the need to define the relationship. Is it a basic human quality that we need to define?

When I sit with my parents, I guess I will be telling them that my initial meeting has grown into something completely and utterly un-definable. Wonderful, scary, and incredible.

No Message.

I was on the phone with my mother discussing an interesting article in a local paper. There was a piece on a local area historic building my brother would be very interested in. We were discussing who would send it to him.

The call waiting tone started to beep but I ignored it.

After we said our goodbyes, I noticed on the caller ID my birth mother had called but left no message. I wonder why she called. I wonder why she didn’t leave a message. We had lunch together Sunday and then spoke on the phone that night. Did she think she had taken up too much of my time?

That the two calls happened simultaneously is interesting. It seems these two worlds are pushing towards each other and I need to come to a resolution in my mind how or if they can unite. I am starting to feel they can.

I find I am being moved towards this with help from many unlikely people.

I received a great email from my brother encouraging me to share my journey with my parents. I somehow had felt that keeping these two worlds firmly apart will protect everyone including myself. Sometimes it is that “second pair of eyes” that helps us see things differently and find answers.

Ironically, I am also learning a lesson from my birth mother’s son. He is angry with his mother that she has kept me a secret from him and his siblings. In his mind, silence is the same as a lie. He feels she has lied to him for 44 years by being silent. Does my silence and selective information to my parents equate?

I had taken to heart a counselor’s advice that the initial stage of this reunion was about just two people. Two people who needed to learn about each other after 44 years of separation. My birth mother and myself.

The counselor also told me I eventually would need to follow my birth mother’s lead. She was able to overcome her shame and silence to share my existence with her family. It took an incredible amount of courage and bravery on her part to do that. I am looking to that courage as an inspiration. She is obviously making it clear that she fully intends me to be a part of her life going forward. I need to relax and just follow her lead. I don’t understand my fear…

How interesting that I am learning a lesson from my birth mother after all these years. One short year ago, I had no idea who she even was…

I am finding that as I get more comfortable with this reunion, I am becoming more open to letting other people share my experience. I want to set myself a goal and meet with my parents soon to share details of this journey. I’ll see how it goes.