An Adoptee’s Wish List

Ireland's First Adoption Author

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If only this could happen, the gaping wound in my adoptee soul would heal.
If only…
• I knew the names of my birth parents
• I could access my original birth certificate
• I could see my birth mother’s face
• I could know medical history
• I could find my missing birth father
• I could experience a successful reunion with my birth family
• I could find empathy and understanding from my adoptive family
• I could return to the orphanage where I spent most of my life
• I had the most nurturing, loving parents
• I didn’t have to wrestle with “who am I?”
• I didn’t have skin color different than my adoptive parents
• I weren’t adopted
• I didn’t experience abuse in my adoptive family
• I didn’t find out repeatedly that my birth mother/father didn’t keep their word to have special time with me
Even if all the hurts listed above were healed, even if we were the healthiest and most resilient of adoptees, even if we’d never experienced rejection, we’d still be saying, “What if?”
Why?
Our soul is shaped like a heart which only Jesus can fill.
Selah….pause and consider this.

Sherrie’s “Take” on Her Missing History

Oh, how I hate missing history! I know all about my birth mother’s genealogical family, but nothing about my birth father’s. He is still shrouded in mystery.

I remember giving the intermediary-lady who found her these questions:

  1. What is the family health history?
  2. What nationality am I?
  3. Who is my birth father?

The third question shut her down. She told the intermediary that talking about my birth father was a very painful topic for her and then she announced she would have no more contact with me.  The intermediary went on to explain that my mother was raped. I felt like an ice-skater with her wind knocked out from a unexpected fall.

However, she soon changed her mind about talking and we chatted for hours into the night. It was like walking on thin ice. Would she reject me? Fear of rejection from her was my constant, unwanted companion.

One of the first things my birth mother said was, “Now, I don’t want you to feel bad about your birth father–he really was a very nice man.” Really? Somehow, rape and nice didn’t compute . Then, she added one more detail….he had red hair. I always wondered where our oldest daughter’s red hair originated.  There has to be a recessive gene for red hair on both sides of the family. Yes, my husband’s mom had red hair, but who had red hair on my side?

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Search angels I’ve met tell me I could probably find the other half of my family. As of now, I haven’t had time to explore and search.

Still, I am curious about him. Still, I wonder if I have siblings on that side of my family. Still, I wonder if I look like him. Still I am searching.

I am wondering if you are searching for a missing part of your history. Were you adopted internationally? Domestically? I’m wondering if you are curious like me. Even as a senior citizen, even at this late season in life, I want to know who my father is. 

Every stone, every bit of information gives me hope that I may someday find him. Will it be a grave? Will it be an old codger in an alzheimer’s unit? Will there be siblings still alive.  

As for me, I will keep turning over every stone until I take my last breath here on earth. 

 

 

The Answer When Adoptees Don’t Know Their History

There certainly is a lot of adoptee anger and sadness regarding missing birth family history. Whether its the opening of our original birth certificates, owning only a certificate of abandonment from a foreign country, or finding negative and painful history, and even a tombstone…its all hard to process.
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In the midst of our finding identity with missing history, we need to remember that even though we can’t see our history, someone more powerful than us has seen it and can see it now.
Let me illustrate this with a story about a craftsman who lived centuries ago who did wood carvings for the Cistine Chapel. He was a l-o-n-g way up.
One day, a man was visiting the Chapel and was intrigued by the craftsman’s work. When he got close enough, he could see that the artisan was carving a bird in one of the huge pillars.
“Why are you carving a bird?” the observer asked. “No one can see it!”
The craftsman’s response was simple yet profound. “But God sees.”
The same can be applied to we adoptees and missing history. We may never know this side of heaven what our birth history is, who are birth parents are, or why we were placed for adoption. Apart from a miracle, I will never know my birth father, for my birth mother took that knowledge to her grave.
BUT GOD KNOWS, fellow adoptee! The God who formed you in your birth mother’s womb knows your complete history. The God who planned every day of your life before any one of them came to be, cares for you in a way that no parent ever could. The God who calls you by name knows the pain of not knowing.
I’m not trying to slap a pious phrase on the pain. I’m trying to get us to look upward. Right-no one you can find on this earth knows your birth history. You may have searched your heart out with no results. You may feel abandoned and depressed.
What answer would God give us? “I KNOW, I SEE, I AM HERE FOR YOU.”
Selah…ponder this, my dear fellow adoptees and adoptive parents….
GOD SEES when we can’t. We can trust Him.
Your thoughts?
Love to all of you wonderful friends,
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