My Adoption Journey: The Quest to Find my Birth Mom
A long Road
It took me 18 years, but I tracked her down. Years of imaging and running through every situation in my head, led to a tangible moment. One of joy, apprehension, awkwardness, lots of questions, and two half siblings.
Here's a photo of the bunch
But let's start at the beginning when I was just baby Zach. I was adopted by two wonderful parents at a very young age. During that time, adoption records were sealed because there was this fear that birth mothers would "retake" their children once they became stable financially. This was changed a couple years later by the time my brother was adopted. He was able to see his birth family, but didn't have interest in forming a relationship. That notion that an adopted child would want to return to his birth mom is just ridiculous and it is apparent that they didn't consult anyone who was adopted before drafting that provision. Certainly, there is curiosity and a desire to learn where you come from, but your adopted parents are your "real" parents, no question about it. They raised me, cared for me, provided and I love them unconditionally. So, this was a real bummer for me, because unlike my brother, I was interested.
I had letters from her, drafted when she was thirteen and pregnant with me. I had some adoption records and outline of my families' history. I had a photo of me in the hospital, but I had no way to contact her anymore. No phone number or address to try. My mom had tried to contact the state and adoption agency to try to get my records unsealed, but the adoption agency had closed and the state records were un find-able. It never was a significant thought, but it certainly crossed my mind. What if the adoption was a fraud like in the movies? Like my parents illegally bought me or something. It was a fleeting thought, but I was still left me at square one.
My Inner Sherlock Holmes
So, I sat in my room one evening, all the documents out on the floor and combing through the records to try to get some name or detail I missed. I must've gone through the pile twice before I stopped to glance at a photo of me in the hospital, I was a cute baby. Looking at the photo, my attention narrowed in on the armband I was wearing. It didn't have my last name on there, instead it said "misch"…...and then it struck me. That had to be my mother's last name. I wasn't officially adopted for a few months and my name didn't change till after then. Jubilation struck me as I frantically searched what last name would match the one half visible. There was basically only one possibility. I also knew her first name from my parents. Scanning yellow pages and any other find a person website known to man, I looked for someone in the Milwaukee area with that name. I kept coming up empty, but search nearly exhausted, I came across a site that listed someone by that name with the right age in the area. It listed only that and an address.
Had I found her? It was an odd feeling of accomplishment. One, where I wasn't sure what it meant. I thought a couple days about it. I couldn't just show up to the address and be like, "hey, I'm your son you're seeing for nearly the first time in 18 years. How was I to know if that was even the right person, or address. Plus, what would my parents think. They have always been supportive, but I hadn't told them I was searching for my birth mom like I had been. Was it selfish of me to withhold this from them. I grappled with the idea, but ultimately, I decided that this was my choice and between me and my biological mom.
Hitting that road block, I turned to Facebook. There was only one possible match, but I didn't feel right about it, and sure enough after a message it turned out not to be her. At this point I had pretty much run out of avenues and hoped that in the digital age, she would create an account in the coming time.
I checked back on Facebook every once in a while, and sure enough, three months later, a profile was created. No picture, no information, just the name matched, but I felt it was it. I messaged if she remembered 18 years, so many days ago and she responded "yes, hi Zach".
I don’t think something on screen has ever struck me like that. I couldn't believe it was really her. I stayed mystified, unable to respond. I think it must have been a good ten minutes; then I shut off my phone for the night.
The next morning, I messaged my phone number and that we should talk. She called later that evening when I was at practice and my parents answered. Imagine how caught off guard they must've been when they received that call. They asked me why I hadn't told them. It was not out of disrespect or thinking they wouldn't be supportive or understand. I explained that it was just something I needed to do on my own. We talked for a couple hours the following night. I had so many questions. I found out I had a half-sister and half-brother also which made me excited. We decided to meet at her house.
Couple weeks later my dad dropped me off in front of her house.
I can't describe seeing her for the first time, except to say that it is so little of what you expected, but so much more at the same time. We had a long embrace and she toured me around the house, as we talked. It was awkward to say the least. I certainly have seen over the times we have hung out that there are similarities between us. Some of our demeanor and quirkiness, patience, I can see her influence in that regard. Whether that is biologically triggered or just a coincidence. But, we are very different people in regards to our interests and hobbies. It was tough finding common ground at first and there was always this unkept uncomfortableness at how profound it should feel. There was so much to say about our situation, but it couldn't be verbalized, so instead loomed ever over us. In further meetings this continued to dissipate, but at the beginning we were essentially strangers. I didn’t feel this motherly bond with her because I had no re callable experiences with her. It was not the same for her. She even thought I hated her. Maybe I'll explore that in another post.
Years of speculation though concluded into something tangible and a foundation to build a relationship upon. I am blessed I got to reconnect with her and meet my siblings, they are awesome. The experience for every adopted child is so varied and so unique. I'm sure I'll share more about my experience in the future, but this was the beginning.
Thanks Steemians.
@diezeldiddy, I've found your post to be worthy of a resteem and upvote from me. I'm an actual person and I am doing this on behalf of the Resteem - Upvote movement. Each day I pick a random post, upvote it and resteem it. Join the movement, pay it forward - read about it here: https://steemit.com/steemit/@jackmiller/a-call-to-arms-beat-the-bots-the-movement
Well thank you very much, honored! I'll check it out.
What a journey you've had, to finally being able to reconnect with your birth mother. I would imagine those moments just before you physically meet to be quite nerve-wracking.
As a genealogist, I've never had to try and track birth parents, but I do know there are now a great number of sites (like on FB) that specialise in helping adoptees try to track down their roots. It's wonderful.
My brother was adopted into our family, but he has never shown any interest in finding out about his birth parents. The genealogist part of me would be dying to find out!
I am glad for you that it has worked out happily. :)
That is really interesting! Oh yah I bet, you're just screaming "let me find them for you!" Thanks!
Up-voted and Re-Steemed! Thanks for sharing!
Thank you! Glad you enjoyed