A mother bird sat on her egg. The egg jumped. “I must get something for my baby bird to eat,” she said. So away she went. Inside the nest, the egg jumped. It jumped and jumped and jumped. Until . . . out came a baby bird! “Where is my mother,” he said. He did not see her anywhere. “I will go and look for her,” he said (Are You My Mother? by P.D. Eastman)
Thirty+ years, I am still the little bird wondering where my mother is!
I was adopted in the early 80s in a closed adoption. My adoptive parents (further known as my parents) found out about me three weeks before I was born. The papers were signed, and I was with my parents when I was four days old. I can’t remember when I first found out I was adopted. I have just always known. We talked about it openly in my family, although it wasn’t as open a topic back then as it is now.
It’s amazing how much adoption has changed. It used to be a taboo topic. Now-a-days you turn on MTV and see Caitlyn and Tyler openly share their story of the adoption of their daughter on 16 And Pregnant and Teen Mom. Their daughter knows them, sees pictures of them, and they even have face-to-face visits. It baffles me.
Last year, when I was going over some papers with my dad, I saw my adoption papers in the lockbox. WHOA. I had never seen them in my life. I studied them over and looked for any clues as to who my biological parents are. My adoption was a true closed adoption. My parents worked through lawyers, never meeting my biological parents. The names on the papers were not only scratched out with a pen, they then were drawn over with a thick black marker. No matter how much I tried I couldn’t read it. The curiosity as to who they are wouldn’t be answered here.
We know very little about my biological parents. The small snippets that my lawyer conveyed to my parents are: My biological mother was shorter with dark hair. A cheerleader at a school in Florida. My biological father was very tall with curly blonde hair and green eyes. And a basketball player at the same school. They were both 19. That’s all we know. Do you know how many people I see every day that fit this description? I’m walking down the street asking, are you my mother?!
Each month or so I spend a night scouring the Internet trying to see if someone is searching for their daughter with my exact birth date and location. My heart skips a beat when I see my birthday written out. I have never found a perfect match. I’m not sure what I would do if I actually saw a perfect match. Would I want to meet my birth parents?
There are so many questions I have for them. First and foremost, I would thank them for having me and giving me a life with the most wonderful adoptive family. Then I would want to know if they are still together or friends? Do I have any half siblings? Do they ever think about me? And, most important, what about my medical history.
It is so confusing, and I don’t know if it ever won’t be, not to consider my parents my true parents. They raised me, supported me, and loved me as if I was their own. Heck, we even look like each other now!! I’m not sure I would want to open that door of having another set of parents. Would it hurt my parents feelings if I actively seek out my biological parents? There are so many unknowns with what would happen if I ever got the chance to meet them. I also wouldn’t want to hurt anyone in the process, such as, if their family doesn’t know about me. There is so many obstacles to think about.
Even with these obstacles it doesn’t stop the curiosity. I mean there are two people out there that I look like. People even say I have a strange resemblance to Matt Damon. Who knows, he could be my half brother! HA! I will always wonder who my biological parents are, and I will keep searching to see if they are looking for me. If I never find them, I will be fine with that. I am lucky to have such wonderful parents now. But to the woman I walk by tomorrow and stare a little longer than normal, I am just asking myself, “Are you my mother?”