Adoption

Living with someone else's choices in life is not always easy, for the person who makes the choice, or the person that the choice affects. The following is my story of what it was like for me to grow up adopted. This is my personal story, and if anyone might be offended by the content, I would suggest you turn back now and don't bother continuing with this page. These feelings and thoughts are mine and mine alone, and I felt if it might help one person out there, then it's worth sharing.

My earliest memories I guess is when I was told I was adopted. I was very young, too young to really understand the meaning behind this. For this I'm very grateful to my adopted family for, for I always knew in my mind growing up. So by the time I did understand, it was an accepted issue for me. I had known for years already. My mom said to me, "We chose you because your special." This made me feel very good until her next words were "But had you been a boy we woudn't have adopted you, we really wanted a girl." I kind of thought what a quirk of fate that I was so lucky to be a girl. I then at some point later learned that my "birth" mother was related to us, that she was a cousin. I never knew her name or to my recollection remember meeting her.

In my growing up years I remember feeling very insecure, my mom said to me a few times "If your not good, we will tell you who your "real" mom is." This hurt me very deeply, it was like a threat over my head as I grew up. I didn't want to know my "real" mom. To me this was the only family I ever knew, they were my brothers, my sisters, my mother, and my father. I didn't care to know the person whose "choice" was to give me away. I felt unwanted, unloved by this person. "Why didn't you want to keep me?"

I remember hearing comments made about my brother Gary being the youngest or "the baby" of the family. I was four years younger then my brother Gary. Once again, I felt left out or not included as part of "my family". Comments being made about all the children having dark hair and my sister Joanne and my brother Gary being redheads. (I'm blonde) I know these things don't seem like much to most people, but they contributed to how insecure I really felt, and they hurt me deeply.

As I reached my highschool years, I think this carried on in most of my relationships. Part of me just wanting to belong, wanting to feel loved. Accepted. I don't really know. I lost myself into books they were my saviour, I could escape from how I was feeling and think of better relationships, hope for my prince to come and make me feel loved, like in these books I chose to read.

When I was fifteen years old, my mom had a severe stroke, my father had a severe heart attack, and I went to stay with my brother Bob and his wife til my parents got out of the hospital. One weekend I was invited to go to my best friends house for the weekend. She lived out in the township, and so I asked my sister in laws permission to go, and she gave it. On Sunday when I returned, I got screamed at for being a tramp, for not asking their permission to go to my friends house. My brother Bob literally beat me up, and I escaped from there and went to the corner store, called my girlfriend Peggy, who her family was like a second family to me, and they told me hop in a cab and get over there immediately. I was so confused. I don't and still don't understand to this day what I had done. All I can figure is they must have needed a babysitter to go out, and I wasn't around, and I got it when I came back. I honestly don't know. When I arrived at my friends house, her mom took one look at me, and took me immediately down to emergency. The wounds really weren't visible they were deep in my heart and soul, and nothing would ever heal the pain they caused me this night. Nor did I ever forgive them. I remember telling my parents what happened, and nothing being done about it. I felt very let down by my family, I felt that they should protect me better. But my parents were very sick at that time, I am not sure what they could have done to be honest now, I just know I felt they didn't protect me. I remained with my friend Peggy and her family til my father was out of the hospital, never did I return to my brother Bob.

It was after this period my mother and I became very very close, and I very protective of her. Which caused many problems with my father and myself. My mom said that I was very much like my father, both stubborn. At age 19 I left home, my father and I had a huge argument, so I packed my bags and his final words to me were "If anything happens to your mother, it will be your fault." I went and stayed with my brother Gary and his wife for a brief period, moved to Toronto, tried to find work there. Then I went to live with my uncle in Peterborough. Found part time work almost immediately. This worked out very well. By March of 1980, I received a phone call that my father had passed away. We had never made up and I will always remember his parting words to me. By the summer I got laid off my part time job as the woman I had replaced came back to work off of maternity leave.

I then moved back to Kingston to be with my Mom. My mom had a hard time dealing with life without my father, she was very lost and sad without him. Her health slowly declined, as she continued to have small strokes. We were never certain if Mom would pull through the next time. By age 20 I met and married Eric, and this relationship was not a very stable one. He abused alcohol, which lead to many arguments and destruction of our home. My mom wanted to come live with us as she was lonely in the nursing home. I didn't want to bring her into the environment I was living in, I didn't want her to see what was really going on. I used to walk down every Saturday to the nursing home where my Mom lived and visit her. She was very lonely and sad.

On one occasion, my Aunt and Uncle were there and they had invited me to their home to visit sometime. I could see a peculiar look come over my mom's face, and somehow I knew that they had something to do with my birth mom. I didn't know how or what, I just had a feeling. When my aunt and uncle left, my mom looked at me and said "You're not going to go are you Darlene?" I replied "They have something to do with my birth mom don't they?". She replied "Yes." I could see my mom shaking she was very upset, worried I might go. I looked at my mom, gave her a big hug and said "No mom, I won't go." You could see the immediate relief on my mom's face. I think she was worried that if I found my birth family that I woudn't want her anymore.

This was the furthest from the truth. I loved my mom dearly and never wanted her to hurt. She was the one that took care of me when I was sick, she was the one that gave me hugs and alot of love everytime I had a broken heart. I have alot of fond memories of my mother.

My mom went to stay with my brother Gary and his wife for a brief period, but due to Margarets pregnancy she found it very difficult to manage my mother safely for both my mom's sake and her unborn child. My mom went to a nursing home there for a while, then ended up moving to Guelph to be with my sister. My mom's health declined more and more, and when I was pregnant with my second son Adam, she passed away. I can remember feeling somewhat relieved for her, that she wouldn't be lonely anymore without Dad, they would now be together, she wouldn't be in pain anymore. But oh how I miss her to this very day. I still reach for the phone on occasion to share some news with her and realize that she's no longer with us in this world, but always with me in my heart, in my memories.

It was at my mom's wake that I met my birth mother for the second time, the first being at my father's wake. My sister was more then happy to point her out to me. I can remember feeling a little distraught knowing my mom wouldn't want her there. At some point or other I remember talking to her briefly. What was said I can't remember at this time, I was moarning the only mother I had and she was now gone from me.

I think it was about six months later I am not really sure, I received a letter from my cousin Mary. Later known to our family as Aunty M. Mary was my birth mom's sister, and she started corresponding to me. I really liked this, I am not sure why I felt this bond to Mary, she was just one of those people that you feel instantly drawn to. She had such a lively spirit and her letters were very welcome. Then she asked me if I would allow her to give my address to my birth Mother, she said you need to learn what really happened. That she hurt too. I was like screaming inside not wanting to get to know my birth mom, for fear my mom would feel I betrayed her. I felt very confused at this period. I sought conselling.

I eventually agreed to let my aunt give my birth mother my address, but under no circumstances was she to give a phone number. I was just not ready for this, I was scared. Part of me wanted the answers I always seeked in my mind, but was too afraid to ask. I didn't want to hurt my adopted family either by getting to know my birth family. I felt very torn.

I think it was about March of 1987 that Carol (my birth mom) and I made arrangements to meet. I think it was a little hard for us both, not wanting to touch the "forbidden or painful" subject of why. As time passed we met more often and started to develop a relationship. My children think of her as nana they have always known her as nana.

Slowly over time the reasons of why the adoption became known to me. I will not give you the full reasons as I think this is her story to tell and not mine, only to say, that she was married to a man who was very abusive to her, and she feared for her safety but more so for mine. She knew her aunt and uncle, (my adopted parents) took children into their home from childrens aid society, so she felt this would be a good environment for my safety and well being.

I think it's very painful to Carol to talk about the past, however this has helped us open up more by talking about it and I think this is helping us understand how it was for the other. I will take this opportunity to share with you what she was able to share.

My birth mother and I have gone through some tough times since that first arranged meeting 13 years ago. My marriage ended up in divorce, her second marriage went through its trials too, although they were able to sort it out and are doing very well now. But I think we both have come along way since those early days, and now have a very open, honest and close relationship.

We both wish that "Auntie M" would be here today to see this. Regretfully, she passed away, but if I know one thing she is looking down from up above and smiling her radiant smile. We both love and miss you Auntie M.

It's also important to know I have a half sister that I have met, and that I am hoping in time that we will become closer as well.