Adoption Week e-Magazine Article

Cindy Lou

I learned of my adoption when I was 30 years old. At the time my adoptive mom was battling breast cancer. I was very close to her and had spent much time with her through this process. My adoptive parents had been divorced for about 15 or more years by this time. I learned of my adoption through a family friend. I went home that night and called my only adoptive sibling, a sister who is 8 years older than I and the biological child of my adoptive parents. She confirmed the information for me and told me that our mom never wanted me to know. Additionally, she made me promise that I would never discuss this with my mom. I promised and I never did break it.

After several months of heart and soul searching I did ask my adoptive father about my adoption. It was the 2nd hardest thing I have had to do in my life. He was ver y calm, very understanding and very ashamed that he had lied to me all these years. He had wanted to tell me many different times but he, too, had promised my mother he would never reveal this information to me. I was also very close to my father and we survived this very emotional experience without loosing anything in our relationship. We talked, he gave me as much information as he could and I began my search with his support and total permission. He, too, was ill and my hesitancy in telling him that I learned of my adoption was because of his illness. Turns out it was absolutely the right thing to do in my situation.

My adoptive sister and I have always had a peculiar relationship. I never really could put my finger on what the distance was between us. When I was old enough to process age difference, birth order, etc.....I began to think it was these issues. When I learned of my adoption it all made sense to me. I really don't think my sister ever recovered from me being brought into the family. I think she has resentment that she has never dealt with and never will. She still is very weird about my adoption and is visibly uncomfortable when it is brought up in discussion. After 13 years of searching, I was reunited with my birth family in 1996. My birth parents were both deceased by then, but I have 4 brothers and a sister that are all still living. I had an opportunity to meet my maternal aunt and uncle and many, many cousins. It has been a wonderful experience and everyone in my biological family has been very open.

My biological mother had four children and was raising them as a single mother. This was happening in the mid 1950's. There were two father's and both of them were not supportive in any way. She gave all four of us up for adoption at the same time. I was the youngest of those four children. She later had two more son's and raised them. As time has gone by I have learned of the existence of two other half-siblings and some step-siblings as well. My adoptive sister has never really warmed up to the idea of me having other siblings. She inquires about them, has met some of them, but has never really been open or excited about their existence. When all this began back in 1980 and continues until today, I have remained close to my adoptive sister and to her children. I have been open about everything, even though I know my adoptive sister would probably be happier if I let her keep her head stuck in the sand. Being the butt of this huge family secret for all these years, I have been determined not to precipitate any more secrets such as this that pertain to my adoption. I am completely open about and will speak to anyone who wants to know.

Sadly, both of my adoptive parents died in 1984. My mother succumbed to her cancer and my father died from complications of a very serious car accident. I remained very close to both of them until their death. I have so very much regretted not telling my adoptive mother that I learned I was adopted. I kept my promise and I never told her, but to this day I regret that decision. I think that it would have hurt her initially, but I also think that because of the love and the bond we shared that she would have overcome whatever her initial feelings were and could have gone to her grave knowing that I loved her for being "my mother." For taking care of me, for nurturing me, for giving me my life. I completely understand the struggle that adoptee's face in making this decision, but thought it might help to hear from someone who made it and feels it was the wrong way to go. I am at peace with my decision because I made it for the right reason. It was out of love for my mother, and fear that disclosing this information would have made her already fragile condition worse. I know now, that this was not the case. Her condition was what it was, I could do nothing to change that. I feel I missed a golden opportunity to send her on her way knowing that my love for her was as it should be between any mother and a child. Since both of my adoptive parents died in the same year, I had an odd kind of comparison that I could look back on after I had an opportunity to mourn their deaths. I felt like I had completed my business with my father. There wasn't any lingering unanswered questions or guilt. I did not have that same feeling with my mother and therein lies my regret. As I mentioned above, I have found some peaceful respite and live with it comfortably now.

I remember hearing a saying about adoption. It went something like this. "I have two mother's. The one who gave me life and the one who continued to give me a life." It really spoke to me at the time and it still does.

Sharing some personal insights,

Cindy