My Philomena

[me b zola]

My Philomena
I searched for my birth mother and learned two things: She’d recently died. And she’d been desperately searching for me.

By Tony Gambino


~snip~

I was born in Cincinnati in 1956, adopted as an infant, named Anthony for my adoptive father, and raised in a loving home. Parents who adopted then were counseled—correctly—to tell their children as early as possible that they were adopted. My parents told me in a proud fashion that they had “chosen” me (false), that I was the same ethnicity (false), and that because they chose me I was more special to them. Our closest friends included two people whom I grew up calling “Uncle” Jim and “Aunt” Mildred (names changed). No relation, but my parents felt particularly close to them since Mildred had shepherded my adoption through the Catholic adoption agency.


I accepted the doctrine of the era: I was adopted, I had only one family—my adopted family—and had no need to know anything more about anything, or anyone, else. My birth mother was an unmarried teenager from the Cincinnati area who “got in trouble” and gave me up for adoption. I never thought about the man. But then at 13, I started to wonder. An unknown man and woman had had sexual intercourse. I was the result. Who were they? What was their story? I felt I couldn't’t ask my father, so, timidly, one afternoon, I approached my mother in the kitchen. Her startled, anguished look told me I had veered into a completely forbidden area. I slunk away, feeling that I had done something very wrong. I never asked her about it again.


Years passed. I left home, went to college, joined the Peace Corps, got married—but never wavered in my acceptance of my parents’ credo that they were all the family I ever needed. I would volunteer readily and rapidly to anyone that I was adopted. Occasionally, someone would ask if I was interested in knowing anything about my birth parents. I would answer that my adoptive family was my real and only family. End of discussion.


Early in our marriage, though, my wife gently asked me to consider searching to learn more about my roots. If we had children, shouldn't’t we know at least about my genetic heritage, she would say. Each time, I lashed out furiously at her. How dare she bring up this forbidden topic? I guess I had been so seared by my earlier conversation with my mother that I adopted her view as an absolute: that it was unacceptable, insulting, and inappropriate for anyone to probe this area and if someone didn’t accept my short explanation, they were attacking me—and my adoptive family. But, after I’d repressed the thought for 20 years, my wife had started me thinking again. I quietly squirreled away a Washington Post article in 1993 on tools for searching for birth parents. In early 1994, I followed the article’s advice.

~more @ link~
http://www.slate.com/articles/double_x/doublex/2014/02/a_philomena_story_of_a_man_who_searches_for_his_adoptive_mother_and_learns.html

The arc of this man's search is more common than mine. I never stopped thinking of my mother and never bought into the adoption orthodoxy and secrecy. While adoption has many complexities to it, access to our own original birth certificates is something that we should all agree on.

[Electric Monk]

1. Maybe this is redundantly obvious, my life would have been SOOOO different not knowing my parents.

I can only imagine, and I know how much I would want to know them.

[me b zola]

2. It has been likened to being a puzzle with many pieces missing

...and in my experience it very much is.

[Electric Monk]

3. I helped produce an indie documentary video about one of my great-great-grandfathers and his family

which was pretty educational for me, but it wasn't all good.

He was both the post-master and dentist for a small town, back in the 1860s.

One of their kids (not my branch) was a real shit, but the other branches turned out mostly ok though. As far as I know....

[jtuck004]

4. " access to our own original birth certificate" <- I agree. If someone gives birth to

a child, you have a right to know the father and mother's name. For medical reasons, if nothing else.

I can think of a lot of excuses from parents, but none that rise to the level of your need to know, right off hand.

[Sweet Freedom]

5. I don't know...

While I can agree that adoptees should have access to medical history, I can't say I agree across-the-board that they should have access to birth parent's names. Not every case is the same and you never know the underlying reason why a child was put up for adoption. (My comments are made based on personal experience with my family, as well as my best friend.) Perhaps agencies should require that parents provide a medical history and all parties stay registered, so that identities can be revealed and contact can be made if agreed to by all.

[me b zola]

6. Are you suggesting that adult adoptees be protected from their own histories?

If you read the entire article it stated that this man's first-mother had registered to have contact with him. He had no idea, which many-if not most-adoptees do not know exist. Because he did not also register, he never got to reunite with her.

I am fifty years old and have reunited with both sides of my family, yet the state of California will not allow me to have a copy (or even see) my original birth certificate. The Catholic maternity home where I was born refuses me information. I still occasionally call them just to be a ghostly reminder of what they have done.

[Sweet Freedom]

7. I did read the whole article

And what I suggested was the parents provide a medical history and that all parties be required to register from the very beginning of the adoption process and keep current contact information on file with the agency. That way, if one party does contact the agency, they will have the other parties' information and can determine immediately if they wish to make contact.

If all parties agree to reuniting, then I see no reason why you shouldn't have access to your birth certificate. But without consent from the birth parents there may be a reason they do not wish to be identified.

[Orsino]

8. It's possible, apparently, for one to have a visceral reaction...

...when deeply held beliefs about one's religion/orientation/parentage are even obliquely questioned. This story's a great reminder not to be afraid to ask.

[jwirr]

9. My niece gave her baby to a couple who agreed to what we are now calling an open adoption. Her

daughter is now married and has children of her own. Over the years both families lived in the same area and the daughter grew up knowing both mothers. It was a very positive experience for everyone.

I also remember a story from an older relative who had been adopted. She remembers her birth parents stopping the car in front of the adoption agency and just dropping the five children off before they drove away. There where 3 girls and 2 twin boys. The children were separated. My relative was the first to be adopted. When she got to her adoptive home she could not stop crying. When asked why she told the family about her sisters. The family got into their car and went back to take the other 2 girls. This particular adoptive family ended up adopting many children. Years later the girls were reunited with the boys but it was rather sad because the two boys were alcoholics and tried to make the girls feel guilty because they had been able to stay together.

I do not know how the girls found the boys. Maybe through a search like this one.