My Son's Adoption - Part 1 of 4

Some of you may or may not know that my oldest son’s biological father dropped out of our lives when my son was 2 years of age. That was 8 years ago. Now, I am nearing my oldest son's adoption to his “acting father”, of who has been his father for the last 7 years. 7 years is a long time, so it’s time to make it official.

Although it is a sea of legal paperwork that primarily consists of crossing the t's and dotting the i's, it is also a moment in time that is special and of great sensitivity to our family.

When I first spoke of the possible adoption with my son, his natural answer was "sure" but it inspired a curiosity to know more about his biological father, which I answered with ease and openness. He then asked to see a photo of him. At first I was shocked and hesitant (only because I didn’t want to hurt him, not because I wanted hold information), so I came right through and handed him a photo of him at the tender age of 2 weeks in his biological father’s arms. He looked at the photo shell shocked and confused and replied instantly “oh my goodness, he looks just like me!” He asked his first name and wanted to know what kind of person he was, how tall he was etc…, which I answered fully. For a few days to follow, he was withdrawn, moody and depressed. He did fully recover and did speak to me about his issues during this time, primarily being that he wanted to call him and reunite.

Over these last 7 years, I have always been quite frank and supportive to keep the openness flowing on this issue. Obviously with my past, I am more than equipped to respect this great need for biological knowledge, which I am sure I have done a good job of feeding his need. A few times a year I ask my son if he wants to know anything about his other biological roots, and most often it’s answered with “not really” or “not right now”. I always leave the conversation with “anytime you want to talk, or know anything about him, just let me know.”

I have spoken with my son on several occasions about the adoption over the last year, and he doesn't have much of a reaction. He simply says, "yeah ok, nothing changes so what is the big deal?" I suppose that is the best answer a parent could hear, but he did have one caveat; that his name is not changed. He is Keall, and he believes at the age of 10 that it should not change, and frankly I won't argue that. We all support his decision; it is his to own.

Even though he tells me with a nonchalant attitude that there is nothing of real great grounding breaking importance, I will still treat it as such. Also due to his age and sex, his curiosity and need for biological connection is not currently at the forefront. One day though, he will realize the importance and the official ceased connection between himself and his biological father that he hardly knew…and that moment will hurt.

Hopefully I have built a support so he trusts me to break his fall.

More to come…

Birth Mother Letter

I just came across my first (and so far only) letter to my birth mother that I wrote on May 22, 2005.

This specific day entailed my reunion in Prince Rupert at my spot of abandonment. On May 21st, I met Ron, who was the man that found my body laying there on the doorstep on October 14, 1977, however this brief meeting was not enough and it was a little impersonal with Ron and his wife there.

So, I returned on the 22nd to re-live the moment alone. It was so incredibly painful that the adrenaline flow literally hurt my body, mind and soul. I sat at the very spot I was layed at and the emotion over came me. I fled with sobbing

tears and a very hurt heart.

I arrived back in my hotel room that night, still shell shocked and alone. I could not eat or rest; my mind was racing with the sights, smells and every nuance of that brief reunion. Instead of laying in bed driving myself crazy, I wrote this letter at 3am in a very primal, child-like tone.
After 3 years, I still can’t fully express in words of the re-lived trauma, yet enlightening and therapeutic process this was. It truly haunted me for months after the fact and I couldn’t even speak of it without the tears for at least 6 months.

Please excuse the grammar and sentence structure…I am surprised I could even write this well with all the tears I shed that night…

May 22, 05

Dear mom,

Today I went to the Hospital and sat at the very spot you left me at.

It was so painful mom. Actually, I don’t think I would put it into words.

This moment of separation has haunted me for years and ultimately affected my whole life. This moment I was so young and fragile. So unknowing and so vulnerable.

You walked away and I imagine you said good bye forever.

So today I stood at the same spot and I seemed shell shocked. I didn’t know what to do or say.

So I relived it without you.

I sat down.

Sat down at the same spot you left me at 27 years ago.

Mom – I know we may never meet again and knowing I was in the spot you (most likely) were also at was so painful and made me feel so alone.

It made me feel so hurt.

It reminded me of this life we shared for 9 months and you couldn’t continue with me no more.

I feel rejected, confused, hurt,

I don’t have answers and long to know why. Why me? Why would you do this? If you knew how much pain this has caused – would you have done it?
Why couldn’t we stay together?

How could you leave me? I was your little fragile baby. Your baby you made. I was your baby that grew inside of you. I was and still am a part of you.

Now the doorstep is forever burned in my memory and I will think of it often.

I will think of you often too, if only I could have remembered your face when you said

Goodbye.