I've Come A Long Way, Baby

Below is something I wrote just two short years ago. I still have some of the same feelings about my son's adoptive mother. I think it is obvious that I was moving through the adoption fog, but I was still deeply ensconced closer to the other side of things than I am now.

Enjoy, and please don't laugh too hard. ;)

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January 22, 2008

I recently contacted my son that I gave up for adoption 19 years ago and have yet to receive a reply. I'm good with this. The entire situation is overwhelming, to say the least. I can wait.

But that's not what this blog is for; it's only the catalyst that has spurred my musings. I've read and seen and heard a lot about "birth mothers" and all the other terms that are given to women who have signed papers to relinquish their parental rights.

I recently came across this quote that I can't get out of my head. It's not that I embrace this view point, but there are some very specific points it makes that have made me think.

"Exiled mother: A natural mother who has lost her child to adoption solely because of her age and/or lack of support, information or resources. An unrecognized mother, she has been thrown away, banished and discarded by her parents, the adoption industry and society, who deemed her unworthy to raise her own child. "

First, I don't consider the woman who adopted my son to be "unnatural". I met her. She was as human as I am. What makes ME natural and HER unnatural? I'm perhaps the FIRST mother, but that doesn't make me MORE natural. If it did, would that mean that I'm SUPERNATURAL?

Second, "lost her child"...hmmmm...I knew where my son was after we were released from the hospital, prior to signing the papers. Up until then, I had every right (by law, until I signed papers saying I was no longer legally a parent) to see my son. I didn't misplace him. And while I may not have known exactly where he was his entire life, I didn't LOSE him.

Third, yeah, I was placed into a position by my family, my son's father's family and what seemed to be society in general to put my son up for adoption. I felt maneuvered. Not by this supposedly all powerful "Adoption Industry", but by those around me whom I needed support from the most, and who abandoned me in my biggest time of need.
Fourth, “An unrecognized mother”: Ok, this is right on the money. I spent years without my son, and if I ever talked about him (and when I made friends, or even just chatting it up with someone, I talked A LOT about him), it was difficult to explain what happened. It’s different than it was when I was adopted. In 1969 people still had some of the “unwed mother” prejudice in place. It is suspected that my birth mother more than likely was made to move to the Sacramento area to have me. So, there must have been a lot of shame in her family concerning me. But in 1989, “things were different”, I had other options. Heh, see the third explanation. Some options. Back to the point; I WAS unrecognized! One thing I will agree with is that adoption has made me a first class liar. When asked how many children I have, my knee jerk reaction is 2. But I don’t have just 2 children. I have 3 children.

Fifth; ...and society, who deemed her unworthy to raise her own child.” Yeah, got a lot of issues here, too. I was unworthy on so many levels. Unworthy to be a wife to my son’s father (after the adoption we were married; however, his family strongly disapproved of me for getting Mark “into trouble”. That marriage was doomed.) I was unworthy of being my son’s mother by so many people. In short, it left me feeling like a totally unworthy human being. Within the three months of relinquishing Andrew/Timothy for adoption I sunk into an abject misery. Looking back at it now, I was clinically depressed. I eventually yanked myself up by my boot straps and got myself out of it, but I did just about everything known to man to self destruct. I wasn’t worthy to be a human, so why should I remain in this life? I’ve always felt that suicide was wrong (that’s a different blog), but I sure did one hell of a job to get there anyway. Just not consciously, that’s all.

While I don’t agree with the extreme group that claims the “Adoption Industry” is just waiting on baited breath to snatch single, pregnant women off the streets just to give privileged white infertile couples babies, there is an interesting, prevailing attitude in this society that I think very few people are aware of; and that pregnancy is a disease that we need to cure women of. This attitude is so prevalent on so many levels its sickening! There’s a strong push to separate mothers and children, even when the pregnancy is planned! (I have a whole other soap box dedicated to that particular subject). This attitude is subtle, but everywhere and most people don’t even realize they embrace it whole heartedly.

I guess we can thank our Puritan beginnings. I think they’d be proud of the influence they still wield even after 400 years.

The Last Search

Sometime around the middle of November I decided to take up the search for my first parents again with the help of a search angel in Hawaii. I started "at the beginning", pulling up "Williams of Unusual Names" from a California Birth Index type site. Unfortunately, this site didn't list mother's maiden names for individual births, so I was unable to match up "Williams of Unusual Names" with any birth of a female Williams between July 1951 and July 1952. So, I contacted my Hawaiian search angel, sent her the list I had created, and told her the situation.

My Hawaiian search angel, Mary, began to work on eliminating possibilities. Through a poor internet connection and some personal family drama, she continued to search diligently.

In the meantime, feeling fairly useless, I spent a few Sundays at the Sacramento City Public Library pouring over city directories. One of the assumptions I was going off of was that my birth mother, whom I knew was sent to Sacramento in order to give birth to me, lived with her brother. I was fairly convinced of this, even though my adoptive parents had commented they thought she'd come to live with her sister. So I focused on her eldest brother, who was listed as a computer programmer. I think perhaps why I chose to search in that direction is because I had no idea if her sister was married, what school her sister went to (she was listed as a student), or any useful information to help with my search. A computer programmer in 1969 would have been very unusual, and something that would stand out.

I took copious notes, and made photocopies of the pages and pages of Williams listed in the city directories. My search was further compounded by the fact that Sacramento not only had a city directory, but occasionally and city directory for the suburban areas of Sacramento. So instead of just one city directory for any given year, I had to search through or photocopy two city directories. From those notes and photocopies, I eliminated names, and came up with some more lists for Mary to winnow through.

Thanksgiving rolled around and I had to shelve the search until the end of the holiday. I knew that by that time, I was putting a lot of emotional energy into the search, and needed a break. I knew Mary needed a break, too, and was very happy to give it to her. I won't say that I wasn't frustrated with waiting, but a burned out search angel doesn't do anyone any good.

After Thanksgiving, Mary and I continued to work together on our list. She would send me the names she had eliminated, give me progress reports on what she was doing and make suggestions as to what I could do next. One of these suggestions was to try to contact someone who could do city directory searches for Ventura County. Another of my possible clues was something my parents told me. They recalled a conversation with the social worker who was handling my adoption. During this conversation she said something that made my parents think of the Santa Paula/Oxnard area. Both of my adoptive parents are from Southern California, and something about that comment made their minds turn towards that area of the state.

I had recently updated my contact information at an adoption registry site that I knew had a large group of search angels. After that update, I did get some e-mails making suggestions as to what to do next in my search. When Mary made the suggestion to find someone to go through city directories for that county, I e-mailed that adoption registry for that request. Unfortunately, I only confused people, and didn't follow up on an attempt at clarification.

One problem with the electronic medium of the internet is that it's difficult to gauge someones reaction. I perceived their reaction as negative, and dismissive.

From there, I reactivated my account with a Yahoo group of search angels and requested a city directory search for Santa Paula and Oxnard. During this time, I also contacted the genealogical group in Ventura County and the Ventura County Library, requesting any look ups they could conduct. By this time, it's nearly Christmas break. By the time I contacted a librarian at Ventura County Library; however, due to the nature of the request, and the fact that this librarian was taking a vacation to coincide with Christmas break, I was unable to make much headway there. The lady that answered my request for look ups for the Ventura Genealogical Society was very friendly, but not able to directly help me. She did point to some other members of the Society, but suggested I wait until after the holidays to contact them.

Noticing that I wasn't getting a lot of suggestions from the rest of the group, the co-owner of Soaring Angels began to ask me questions about what I'd done with my search so far and to make suggestions to me that I could do from home. One day towards the end of Christmas break, she e-mailed me with another list of "Williams of Unusual Name" that I didn't find in my psudo CBI. I promptly sent this list onto my Hawaiian search angel. However, the co-owner of Soaring Angels decided to do a little name eliminating herself. She would update me regularly with her progress, which in my opinion was simply amazing.

Then disaster struck. The first week of the new year, both of my search angels told me, on the same day, that they couldn't continue working on my search. I was devastated, but since I sincerely believe that family comes first and knowing it would be completely selfish to whine or complain, I told my angels to focus on their families. On top of that, there are so many wonderful search angels in the adoption community that I was confident that I could get my search back on track. I requested each lady send me a synopsis of what they'd done so far so that I could share that with any further search angels.

I was in limbo for a few days as to what to do next. I needed to wait until my two former search angels were able to send me the requested information, and since the family matters were so pressing, I didn't feel right about pushing my suit.

Then on January 10, I woke up from a dream that I'd made a Facebook group and named it "Please Help Me Find My Birth Family". Wondering why I hadn't done this sooner, I went to work on creating that group. Within about a day, I had over 100 members in my group. To say that I was stunned by the reception would be an understatement. I was hoping for a large reception, but I really didn't expect it. My theory was the "six degrees of separation" theory. I figured that if my friends joined the group and then invited their friends, who in turn would invite theirs, that someone somewhere would be THE ONE who would be key to unlocking the secret to finding my birth family. I also figured that someone out there had to somehow be connected to my birth family.

The next day, Monday January 11, I turn the computer on, hook up to the internet and check my e-mail and Facebook page, as well as check out my group. I noticed right away in my inbox that someone had e-mailed me with the subject line "Your 1st Mother". I was initially skeptical, believing that this person was probably a paid searcher, so I put off opening the e-mail, and focuses on my Facebook stuff. After about a half hour or so, I opened that fated e-mail.

It wasn't a paid searcher. A lady named Hanne told me that she did a search on Adoption.com and came up with a hit. She listed her phone number and asked me to call her right away. I was stunned. I had registered on Adoption.com nearly 10 years ago, and would sporadically check the status, but never found anything. I called her and she walked me through the process of pulling up the correct information. What she explained to me was that when she input a name along with my birthdate, gender and place of birth, no matches came up; which was exactly what I'd been doing for years. Instead, she went simple, and kept out a name. That's when she got the hit.

Following her directions, I got the same hit and saw for the first time my birth mother's name.

Hanne had already called the phone number listed and found it to be out of date, and recently reassigned. I was only slightly discouraged, though. I finally had a name that I could send out to the search angel groups. However, I didn't have to do that. Hanne did a search for the name listed on the post and was able to give me an address and phone number.

Now, knowing that this information could be old, too, I still went ahead and wrote to my search angel group to confirm the look up. I also posted to my Facebook group, and immediately got responses from my friends and members of the group. I anxiously waited for someone from Soaring Angels to return with some information on this name. I even made some attempts to verify her information, and continued to come up with the information Hanne originally gave me. Feeling very frustrated about this, I checked back on my group and found that one of my long time on line friends made the offer of paying for a one time search for the accurate information, and sent me his phone number.

So, I called Jeff, and we talked for about a half hour. I deeply appreciated the offer, but for some reason I didn't feel compelled to take him up on it. Through talking to him, I was able to calm down and made the decision to call the number that Hanne initially gave me. While I was still on the phone with Jeff, I mentioned that I had no idea how to proceed with the conversation. Jeff then pulled a book out that dealt with first contact and read to me the script that is suggested. I took notes, and steeled my nerves and rang off with Jeff.

In the meantime, another search angel that had been helping me on the side sent me a link to a very similar (if not the same) script. I glanced over it, but I was comfortable with what I had. I gathered a pen and a note book, the paper with the address and phone number, and my script and called.

Later, my fiance Ron, told me that he wanted to make sure he was right there for me when I made the call. I had mentioned to Jeff that I didn't think I would break down or cry when he suggested that I be sitting when I made the call. When I had the initial phone call from my son lost to adoption, I never cried during the call. I felt confident that I wouldn't break down. I didn't the first time, why would it happen now? Of course what I failed to remember, and what Ron pointed out to me, was the time before I first called my son; I was a nervous wreck waiting for my son to respond to my e-mail.

One of the points the script makes is to remember to be polite and ask if this is a good time to talk and to give your name at the outset. Well, I remembered the first part, but forgot to give my first name. I did follow the script, however, and ask for her name, and if she was involved in an adoption in 1969. She said yes, and asked who I was. I think I apologized, and told her my name. She thought I'd said Danielle, though given my name, I can see why she thought that. However, the reason she thought I said Danielle was because that was the name she called me when she was pregnant with me. I proceeded to give her my birthdate and started to tell her where I was born, but she finished for me.

I knew in that instant that Mary Rue was my first mother.

A Reply to "Adopted People Are Not Allowed Ancestory Because It Might Upset Someone"

As always, Lorraine writes a thoughtful and incisive blog into the perilous waters we all tread if we're part of the adoption triad.

In her most recent blog,"Adopted People Are Not Allowed Ancestry Because It Might Upset Somebody" she tackles some adoptee issues spurred on by reading an article of an adoptee beginning their search for their first parents. The primary issue is how adoptees have been brainwashed by the "you should be grateful you were adopted" attitude.

I can only speak to my particular experience, but let me say that Lorraine hit the nail squarely on the head for me. I don't think that my adoptive parents ever consciously tried to imbue this upon me, but they did anyway. I was told the old rags of "you were chosen", "we chose you", "your birth mother wanted the best for you", etc. ad nauseaum. THAT'S the first layer of ingraining the adoptee into the grateful attitude. For me, the second layer was a bit more personal. My a-father would jokingly say that I was a strange looking baby; that my eyes were too close together and almost looked cross eyed. WOW! Well, gee, maybe THAT'S why my real mom didn't want me; I was too goofy looking. And then there's the third layer that the adoptee subconsciously places upon themselves that since I was chosen over all the other children that needed good homes, I need to live up to their expectations, be good, don't act out, try to be on your best behavior at all times, because you never know, they may decide they don't want you anymore and "take you back".

Many adoptees constantly lives with the sensation of never being quite good enough, never measuring up. Even after reaching adult hood over 20 years ago, I still live with this. I've made a conscious effort to try to put it aside, but the root is still there, even if the germinated flower was ripped out long ago. This feeling has lead me to destroy relationships that I cherished because I simply couldn't believe that this person saw any worth in me.

I remember when I first started my search for my first family, 20 years ago, that when I confided in my a-mom, she pointed out to me that while she couldn't stop me, that I should be considerate of my a-father's feelings; they might get hurt. I didn't want to seem disloyal, did I? (Let me say before I go any further that my a-mom is a good person, and not manipulative in any fashion. She didn't actually say the disloyal comment to me directly, but that IS how the comment came across. I KNOW she didn't mean it, but I've always been the "sensitive" child, and so took everything "too seriously".) In essence, I should make sure my a-father's feelings were considered before my own and that a grateful daughter wouldn't put him/us/me through this. They never asked me to NOT search and would tell me that they were worried for me. While they didn't have this language, they didn't want me to experience the "second rejection". I don't know how many conversations I've had with them listing the reasons why I'd rather know than not. I'd rather deal with the rejection a second time than to never know anything about where I came from. (I've always found it frustrating to try to impart this attitude to someone who isn't adopted because regardless of how eloquent I am with my words, how passionate I speak to the subject, there is NO WAY someone who isn't adopted could EVER understand. My fiance can literally trace his genealogy back to King Solomon! How blessed is THAT?!?! Yet for all his ability of being able to see both sides of an argument, this is one side he can NEVER fully comprehend.) It's only been within the last few years that my a-parents have given me their full support in my search; the clincher? Because it would be good for my mental health.

GRRRRRRR!!!!

When I got my non identifying information, I was, of course, grateful. At last, I had something more than just my imagination and vague descriptions from my a-parents of what my first family is like. But something that Lorraine mentioned in her blog struck me like a blow. In my non-id, there is a statement about my first mother; "she is described as being 'unusually pretty'". I remember staring at those words til I thought the ink would fade out. "unusually pretty". That's WONDERFUL! Maybe I wasn't the ugly duckling I'd always feared I'd continue to be! If she was pretty at 17, then at 19 I had HOPE!

Now, I look back on that and think, "ohmygod! What was I THINKING?!?!" Is THAT all they gave me?!?! The most I have ever been GIVEN was this! But I was the grateful bastard, well trained to be thankful for any drib or drab that was given to me.

Lorraine wrote, "I guess it's that last bit that would kill me if I were on the adopted side of this painful process called adoption. Upturned nose? Pretty? Engaging smile? I think I would start looking at every face in the supermarket all over again, trying to figure out if upturned noses fall with age (they do) and wonder how "pretty" looks at say, sixty, seventy, or so, to judge from the career choice of her first mother--data processing, the precursor to computers."

Oh Lorraine! You don't know how right you are! I've spent my entire LIFE looking for someone that looked like me, my mother, a sister, maybe even an effeminate brother? Do I even HAVE siblings? To this DAY I still look at strangers and wonder if I'm related to them. I can't help it. I ask random people when I find out their last names are either Williams or Hernandez if they had anyone in their family that gave a child up for adoption. How pathetic is that?

When all is said and done, adopted is who I am, a part of me that no one can ever take back or change. The damage is done, so to speak. All I can do is deal with the boat load of issues given to me by people who tried to love me the best they could.