I found out at 49 that I am adopted
November is Adoption Awareness Month
I feel like I want to write a poem.
What do I say, how do I say it.
I feel like adoption is messy
It's not all sweetness and nice
It's a women in VT, single in 1957, pregnant
A situation she never expected.
She probably was pressured from
Well meaning family and friends.
Thinking long and hard what do I do
Feels like the only choice is
Let go of what she probably already loves.
Maternity home in her future
Her condition was hidden from family and friends.
It's 9 months of bonding mother and child.
Tethered as one.
The time comes when I am born. She is gone
Back to her home probably alone she mourned.
43 days I sit , a preemie 4 lbs 4 oz
My cribmates and I ward’s of the state.
Paid staff keeping me alive.
She left rules for my placement that were followed.
A family from NH, 10 years married, no kids.
Infertility their shame, nobody needs to know
Gag order all the family and all their friends
The baby bottles say Wendy,
Change her name to Kathleen Ann
Make pretty dresses for the state workers visits
Finally I am a Shea my birth certificate filed.
My parents are wonderful loving and kind yet
Holding me at arms length cause any closer
The secret of my beginnings might escape.
Its great its lovely growing up unknowing
I get to be older 11 or 12 I feel something missing
I feel like I don't belong. Gee whiz I am just so different.
My problem solving skills I ask the question
The one not to ask. Am I adopted.?
No is the answer, you're crazy to think that.
I look like my mother and years down the road
My son has the same birth defect as my dad
I am wrong, I am broken, A parent wouldn't lie.
I carry this feeling that I don’t belong with me everywhere
All aspects of my life. I can't shake it, it's my horrible friend.
49 yrs old 2005 a free trip, Mexico bound, a passport I cant have
Long story short my adoption is outed.
Grateful for my parents, for my family.
For all they have given me, never doubt that.
Oh I am not crazy it's a matter of different DNA
But wait, Oh crap who am I. 49 yrs of the wrong family history.
My Identity stripped. Oh born two weeks early
Now I know why I am early for everything.
2006 Reunion with bio mother and full sibling brother.
It's like being home. I loved the story of Peter. He was our dad.
Meeting new cousins Once or twice my worlds intersect
My brother meets my dad just before his death.
My cousin’s shop where my sister works.
My niece and my bio cousin live in the same town.
It’s also a sadness that's hard to explain,
Seeing the old pictures hearing the old stories of times growing up
All the memories. I love these stories I can t get enough I am hungry for more
I also cry because of all the opportunities that I have missed
I can't be one of the many kids running around grandma's house,
the aunts and uncles sitting on the porch. Many of these players have passed.
Its finding end of December that my brother and I are only half siblings
It doesn't matter in our relationship, he still feels like home to me.
but it brings with it another loss, The story of Peter.
So now we think Dad might be named George
A man who spent time with my brother, not me. I bet I was kept a secret from him.
So if you hear someone’s adoption story please don't say Oh you should be happy,
You should be grateful. Don't say well your parents are still your parents. Your father is still your father.
Don't even say but they loved you so much.
It's not about that, For us it's a cellular longing for those we look like for those we share DNA.
Simply ask how you can help, even just sit with the person quietly as they process the feelings especially if this
is a new discovery. Discovery brings grief and loss . I was lucky my parents were the best. It’s still taken me 63 yrs to finally leave the adoption fog and put voice to the pain I have carried alone. With pain comes healing. With healing comes moving forward.
Special thanks to Kathleen for sharing her story
