I’m in Denver waiting for my flight to Oklahoma City. Only 2 1/2 hours left to go on a 4 hour layover! The flight from California to here gave me time to put my new blog to words but once again, the thoughts I form in my head never come out the same way once I start to type.
Most of you know that I’m an adopted child. Never, in my 49 years have I ever considered that to be a stigma. I’ve known that I was adopted for as long as I can remember, which means my parents probably started telling me the moment they brought me home from the orphanage.
No, it wasn’t a real orphanage per se but it was a place run by nuns; the place where my parents came to get me after my birth mother had me. My parents ~ my mom and dad. Not my adopted parents but my real parents. The two people who chose me. The two people who took me home to be their daughter. The people who loved me even during my most stubborn years. And let me tell ya, those years were plenty!
Now, some people, when I tell them that I’m adopted, look at me with that little look that says, ‘Oh, you poor thing’ while others look at it like I do...in amazement and in awe. My parents adopted 4 of us. Pretty amazing, huh?
Adopted children are naturally curious about where they 'came from' and I’m certainly no exception to the rule. During my 49 years I’ve wondered about the woman who carried me inside of her for 9 months. That same sense of curiousity was even stronger after I had Ryan and Lynsay. I’ve wondered where I got these eyes that I’ve never seen on anyone else. I’ve wondered where I got my smile and these God awful Fred Flintstone toes. And every year on my birthday, I can’t help but wonder if she thinks about the baby girl that she gave away.
Oh, I know that what she did was not only the best thing for me, but I'm certain she did what she did because she loved me and I'll be the first to say it. And, if I were to ever meet her, I’d embrace her and thank her for giving me life and for having the courage to not have an abortion but instead, to carry me inside of her, knowing she would never watch me grow up. She'd never see the milestones in my life ~ my first steps, my 16th birthday, my high school graduation, my 21st birthday, my wedding day or the birth of my first child. It was a selfless act on her part and I believe with all my heart that she was not only courageous but she showed a strength that I don’t know I could ever have. And even knowing all that she gave up, and I'm totally in awe of what she did, she’s not my mom. My mom is in Oklahoma City, waiting for me to walk through her apartment door tonight with a smile on my face and arms ready to embrace her.
I do, however, know a few things about this courageous woman who gave birth to me. When I was 3o and had to have my hysterectomy, my doctor wanted my medical history. Well, kinda hard to know that stuff if you were adopted in 1960; no such thing as open adoptions back then.
I did what I could to find out what I needed to know and the information that Catholic Social Services gave me about my birth mother and the boy who got her pregnant is as follows . . .
She was young, only 21 or 22; he was a few years older. When he found out she was pregnant, he took off and she never heard from him again. Social Services had minimal info about her and her side of the family and little to none about his.
A few years ago, I started doing some writing and one of the first things I wrote, using what little information I had, was a poem about being adopted.
Hope you like it.
~ In The Name of Love
She met him at a party
It was his smile that caught her eye
He made her eyes light up with laughter
She believed he'd never lie
They sat alone and talked for hours
'til the early morning light
She was the object of his affection
On that warm and starry night
He walked her home at sunrise
With a promise on his lips
He'd be there waiting after class
and then he left her with a kiss
Her days were cold without him
At night she found warmth in his arms
Never knowing she was one of many
Who had fallen for his boyish charms
The days got shorter, the air turned brisk
As summer slowly faded away
She can close her eyes and remember
It seems like it was yesterday
In her heart was love and laughter
As she joyously broke the news
In his heart was shock and anger
His freedom he would not lose
She searched her heart for answers
She prayed to God above
"Lord, help me find the answers
for this baby I now love"
Once again the days got shorter
Summer faded day by day
If she closes her eyes she can remember
The day her world fell away
She was born in mid-September
On a day full of beauty and promise
Her new parents were waiting to take her
They were anxious, scared and cautious
As the young mother held her one last time
She looked up to the heavens above
"Thank you Lord for the courage
To give her up, in the name of love"
