This is not a post about pretties in pink but a journal of something I just had to write down...to make it real somehow.......
A new journey is about to begin in my life but its one that started a long time ago when I was 12 years of age, when as a child I never felt close to my mum....I was always in trouble and could never do anything right in her eyes which led me to ask her the question....Am I adopted? The reply was anger and the usual ...stop asking stupid questions!
I always had this feeling that things in my life where not what they seemed and I was never treated by her the way other parents were with their child...I never got the hugs or affection or given any time so my childhood was spent mostly alone in my bedroom as friends were discouraged. So I guess it was this sort of behaviour that my question stemmed from. For in my eyes a child that was born to their parents was surely loved and in my world there never seemed to be any love so therefore I didnt belong. Time passed and the questions of a child were pushed to the back and life as I knew it went on. I never thought of that question again until I was 24 and pregnant with my first born. This time I asked my mum how long she was in labour with me and then with my brother. The response was again anger and 'how am I supposed to remember that...it was so long ago', this coming from a woman who could tell you exactly what she wore to a dance 30 years earlier and who else was there and what they wore as well. My mum was one never to forget anything while me on the other hand couldn't tell you what I had done two days prior. Every other aunty I had spoke to could remember exactly what time their child was born and how long their labour was. The question again raised its ugly head 'Am I adopted?' By the time my second was born I again pushed that question to the back and moved on with life with my family.
In February of 2012 my dad was diagnosed with lymphonic cancer and while his prognosess was not good with the help of chemo they hoped to extend his life for about 5 years. It was during this time I was diagnosed with 4 lumps in my liver...3 of which they were sure were benign but the fourth showed segmentation and cause for concern. So begun the blood test, and scans every three months to document any change that may occur. My life was on a 3 month cycle of stress waiting for each result to come back as well as worrying about dad and mum also, as she was nearly blind (macula degeneration, glaucoma and cataracts in one eye and totally blind in the other caused by shingles). Mum had relied heavily on dad to do all the cooking, so caring for her was also a heavy concern. On October 26th (my daughters 22nd Birthday) my dad passed away in hospital after a severe chest infection. A week later I was fired from my job because of time I had off with helping dad, funeral arrangements and family commitments. My life was in turmoil.
It was at my dads funeral when a stranger to me approached to offer condolences and to affirm how lucky I was to be adopted by my parents. I was speechless, no words could be found and the gentleman moved on. All I knew was I couldnt share this information...I couldnt digest this information, I had to pretend....and it was hard..I was grieving for my dad, the threat of my own cancer scare with me always and now this. It was like living someones elses life.
Later that night, all the emotions came crashing down on me...my entire life as I knew it was a lie. A lie that I was to find out that my brother knew about (as he was adopted to) and that he had been told when he was 15 and that he had gone to the hospital with mum and dad to pick me up. His kids even knew he had been adopted. But no one had ever bothered to tell me. All those questions I had as a child were real. They were no longer my imagination but a reality.....a reality I wasnt sure I was ready for at 48 years of age. How many others knew...cousins, aunties, uncles? I felt betrayed, angry, frustrated that my life was compounded by lie after lie by my parents and how ever many others who had help them to keep the lie. My parents had ample opportunity to tell me the truth throughout my life and yet they never did.
So begins the next part of my journey...who are my birth parents? I will not ask my mum nor will I tell her I know. She is 83 years of age and she has just buried her husband of 60 years. She is a frail in statue but has a mean tongue and I was raised as the respectful daughter regardless of what I may think at times. I am very lucky to have a friend who is also adopted but was told at a young age about her adoption and she has been a great wealth of information as well as support.
I finally decided today was the day to apply for my file about my adoption. The first step in hopefully finding out who I am...the other half of what I have always thought was something missing. I dont know if I am going to find the answers to my questions but I do know if I don't try to find them it will be something I will regret for the rest of my life. If for no other reason than to give my children and grand child an insight into their medical history...because the one they have at moment is a lie. At present I have more questions than answers and the only thing I know is I was born in an era where single mothers were frowned upon by society and the church played a heavy hand in talking these mothers into giving up their babies or I could have been the product of a rape....I just dion't know.
I printed out the form today and filled it in to request my adoption file....my only hope is my birth mother has not put a veto on it and all the forms can be found. I will pop it in the post tomorrow.
So for now I play the waiting game and they mention it could take up to 4 months.
