A Burning Desire

I was reading some thoughts by an adoptee (Elizabeth Casalaspro) in her blog LINK>A Roller Coaster Ride on the subject of forgiveness but for me it echoed my experience related to reunions. She says “Adoptees do not choose to be adopted. They still have the desire to ‘know’ where they come from. Most adoptees mean well and have a burning desire to learn about their biological family. Most adoptees just want answers.” My mom certainly had that but was blocked by the obstacle of a sealed adoption record.

When she died, I wanted to somehow fulfill her wish. My mom had a brother who had been adopted from the same agency. One of his daughters called me one day to tell me she had been able to get her father’s adoption record, that it had many pages and didn’t cost all that much – still it cost more than I could afford to spend at that time but at least I knew I could get some answers. Eventually, I did have that much disposable money to do it and in the Autumn of 2017, I received her adoption file and what a revelation it was.

I didn’t think of it as a burning desire but somehow, once that fuse that connected me to the truth of my origins was lit, it simply propelled me along. Certainly, I did have some encouragement to keep going into my dad’s origins from my nephews. The entire journey I had the support of my husband to learn my own truths.

It is a rather odd place that I have now arrived at. I do feel “whole” in ways I did not for 6 decades of my life. I know from whom and geographically where I come from and though it leaves me in a rather awkward uncomfortable place regarding “my family” I am grateful for what I now know. I am still processing this 6 years later. There is the “family” I grew up “knowing” and the “family” I do not share memories with – except for one who I spent an afternoon with and was given the history of those long years on my mom’s paternal side. And there is a cousin I’ve not met in person but who was supportive and provided me with many pictures that fill in some of the gaps of my father’s family history.

Adoption will never and can never feel organically normal. Most children grow up with the parents who conceived them, as I did. Adoptees are transplanted humans. Transplant rejection and other serious complications can and do occur. Adoptive parents have the challenge of matching their adoptee’s needs and there is an unavoidable stress in creating a relationship with a non-related person. Characteristics may not match up well enough to result in happiness for the people impacted.

Elizabeth may have been on the best track by acknowledging a need to forgive, quite generally, so much.

Loss After A Reunion

Today’s story (not my own) –

Some of my adoptive family did not treat me well after reunion. Not being happy for me. My adoptive mother is having her own insecurities and blaming me for saying I was wondering about my birth family when I were younger and throwing it in my face as an adult, saying “how do you think that made me feel.”

I was adopted in 1975, not sure what they were told but I almost think it was somewhat…these are your kids and they will never see their birth family again. I also have adoptive siblings who are biological to my adoptive parents. One doesn’t even talk to me anymore… That’s another story.

Why are we treated this way for finding our truth and deciding how we choose to live our life and who we choose to include in it ?

After So Much Secrecy

Today’s story –

I’m an infant adoptee, adopted within family – I was raised knowing my natural mother as my cousin; my natural mom’s uncle is my adoptive dad. I didn’t know the family relationship until 10 years ago, in adulthood.

In 2 weeks, I have a work trip to the city where my natural family lives – mother, father, full brother, and grandmother (adoptive dad’s sister). Since this trip came up a few days ago, I’ve been debating whether to reach out to my family and try to meet up for an afternoon. My adoptive parents have both passed away.

Background: While I remember always being told I was adopted, my adoptive mom was always really vague and acted like she didn’t know who my natural parents were – even though we had been in the same room with them multiple times! We didn’t see them often, just a few times a year until my adoptive dad’s parents (my natural great-grandparents) passed.

When my mom was pregnant, she had already secretly set up an adoption to strangers and kept her pregnancy quiet – but when I was born, my great-grandmother demanded that I stay in the family, and my adoptive parents suddenly got a call. So there was a ton of drama and secrecy there from the start.

I haven’t seen my natural parents since I was about 14, at my (great)grandfather’s funeral. We’ve chatted a couple of times via Facebook, but haven’t had much communication, and it always feels so weird after so much secrecy for so long.

Part of me thinks it would be nice to know them better, and seize the opportunity to see them for the first time in 20 years. Part of me wants to put my head in the sand and let sleeping dogs lie. I’ve been feeling really stuck, and need to make a decision soon to plan.

She then updates to add – I sent my natural parents a message this afternoon. They haven’t seen it yet, so we’ll see how it goes.

I Love Reunion Stories

From the LINK>BBC – Adoption: Son finally meets birth mum after 58 years.

Timothy Welch was only six weeks old when he was separated from his birth mother, June Mary Phelps, who was 18 at the time. He describes his adoptive parents reasons – “They couldn’t have their own children so they started the adoption process and when they were 36 they adopted me.” Timothy described his life with his adoptive parents as “really happy”, and never considered trying to find his birth mother until his adoptive parents died: Bill in 2018 and Eunicé in 2020.

As an adoptive child you always think about researching your birth family. A lot of it goes back to identity as a person over the years. He admits, “I wondered who I was, certain personality traits that were different from my adoptive family.”

Yately Haven in Hampshire was a mother and baby home run by the Baptist Church. It is where Timothy was born. The Haven was open from 1945 until 1970. Almost 1,800 babies were born there. Timothy was able to get a copy of his original birth certificate. It contained his birth mother’s full name, date and place of birth. A search angel was able to use voter registration rolls and with that information, Timothy was able to find his mother’s current husband, Michael Mortimer. Timothy gave Mr Mortimer his email, which he passed on to Timothy’s brothers and they arranged a day to meet up in London. Timothy says of his brothers, “They are both wonderful men – kind, thoughtful and reflective. I feel very fortunate to have met them at this stage of our lives and am going to enjoy getting to know them and their respective families very much.”

He says of then meeting his birth mother – “It was emotional but at the same time it felt natural. We spoke about a variety of things but the part I enjoyed the most was just looking at her and taking in the person that she is.” He was also able to learn about his birth father – Hedayat Mamagan Zardy, an Iranian Muslim. The couple had a fleeting romance and loved dancing in Oxford.

Some adoptees, like my dad, are afraid to know where they came from. My mom yearned to. Reading stories like this make me wonder how they would have felt, if they had the option to experience a reunion. Since they have both passed away, I can only choose to believe that reunion took place in heaven.

David Crosby’s son James Raymond

While David Crosby was preparing for his liver transplant in the ’90s, he discovered that the child he had given up for adoption in 1962 had been searching for him. Crosby finally reunited with his long-lost son, James Raymond, and as fate would have it, he’s also a musician. Raymond is a successful keyboardist and composer.

Crosby was in his early 20s when Raymond’s mother became pregnant. “She gave him up for adoption and didn’t tell me he existed,” he says. Raymond was born when his father was young. Crosby declines to identify the mother with whom he had a fleeting relationship, but he admits they put their son up for adoption immediately. Crosby never forgot the son he gave up.

When Raymond and his partner were about to have their first child, his adoptive parents suggested he might want to track down his biological parents. “So he went to check and he sees my name there and he thinks: ‘Nah, couldn’t be.’ So he checks first names and middle names [Van Cortlandt] and realizes, yeah, it is me. He’d already been a musician for 20 years when we met up – “so anybody who tells you it’s not genetic, you tell them come talk to me.”

As his health deteriorated while he waited for a new liver, David Crosby’s thoughts drifted to the boy. “I was in the hospital dying, and I knew that I had a son out there someplace,” Crosby told The Baltimore Sun. “I had been beating myself up for years about not being there for this kid.” Crosby says, such reunions end up in animosity. “But James did a wonderful thing, man. He gave me a chance to earn my way into his life.” How did he do that? “By making music with him.”

Raymond had already made a name for himself in music, having pursued classical and then jazz from a young age. He was the musical director for a successful Nickelodeon series and a sideman for acts including Chaka Khan. From an early age, Raymond knew he was adopted, but he didn’t seek out his birth father until he was living on his own. Discovering his dad was David Crosby came as a shock.

The father-son duo got along well from the start. “He was this nice, decent young guy, and we became friends immediately,” Crosby said. “We write spectacularly well together.” He says the final song on the album, For Free is Crosby’s favorite. It is I Won’t Stay For Long, which was written by Raymond. The album came out July 23, 2021 and was also produced by Raymond. Crosby says, “Imagine how I feel about my son being that good a writer. I wear it like a garland of flowers on my head. It’s just fucking wonderful.” They began playing music together and soon they formed the jazz-rock band CPR (Crosby, Pevar & Raymond). By January 1997, CPR was touring and performing.

On his website, Raymond talks about his work on the album – “Lyrically, where I started was this visual of agricultural workers in the Central Valley of California, truck drivers, laborers starting their workday early in the cold of morning … knowing that it would get hot as hell as the day wore on,” Raymond said. “I wanted to speak of their resiliency and spirit and that of so many other working folks across the USA.” Crosby added his storytelling and voice, and the results are an iconic father-son collaboration.

James John Raymond is a musician, songwriter, producer and film composer living and working in Santa Fe, New Mexico. I discovered on his website LINK>James Raymond that the composer contributed some additional music to one of my all time favorite movies – 2007’s August Rush. If you want to know more about him and his craft here is a somewhat technical explanatory YouTube.

I can’t help but think of my youngest, musical genius, son. This is the kind of YouTube, my son might make someday regarding his own compositions. My son does things like this YouTube with his Geometry Dash gameplay. He frequently composes music on his computer and posts it online, as well as playing it for us – his family.

Just When You Really Need Them

It is all too common but still hard to understand why it can be this way – today’s story (not my own) from a 29 year old adoptee in reunion.

I was one of the fortunate ones who found my biological family this year in April. We’ve known each other for eight months and everything’s been going great with us. Unfortunately, my mother (adoptive mother who will always be referred to as my mom) is not handling it well. Unfortunately, she continues to use the fact that I want to build a relationship with my biological family against me. She continues to use my biological mother against me when she’s mad at me. She says things like “why don’t you go spend time with your real mom then” “and “you probably wish I was dead.” My adoptive father passed away four years ago and I know she is still struggling. But I’m not sure how to make sure she understands that I’m not trying to replace her. I just want to build a relationship with my biological family that I have a right to. Sometimes, I feel even more comfortable around my biological mother than I do my mother and it’s very confusing for me. I’m not sure how to process all this or how to not take what my mother says to heart, when she’s mad at me. Somebody please help with understanding how I can process all this and help my mom the best way I can, Thank you.

A first mother (one who gave up her child to adoption) answers – your mom’s feelings on this are NOT the most important, YOURS are.

Your mom needs to have therapy for her loss of her husband, she needs to have therapy for the insecurities she has that she is projecting onto you. Right now, your mom is being harmful and toxic towards you. This is emotional abuse. None of this is your fault. You have every right to know your first family, without someone making you feel like you’re a traitor.

It’s not your job to make her feel like you’re not replacing her, same with your first mother. Your mother adopted you and, at some level, she knew this day had to come. If she had been trauma informed and fostered a relationship with you regarding the reality that you have two mom’s throughout your whole life, this wouldn’t be an issue. Your mom has to deal with her own insecurities, same as us first mothers have to.

Absolutely none of this should fall on you, she needs to take care of her own mental health, so that you can freely process and heal from the trauma thrust upon you, instead of making you feel responsible for her own decisions. I am so so sorry that your mom is acting in this way, unfortunately it is extremely common, though it shouldn’t be. All of your feelings are valid. Both your first family and your adoptive family have to deal with their own insecurities and trauma and not drag you into it. Again, none of this is your fault! You need support and love in figuring out your life and who you want in it.

From another adoptee – What she is doing is extremely wrong, in any event. But she thought that you were completely hers and now she is jealous (again) after she proved she was the “better mother.” And of course she cannot understand why your biological family has any pull or interest for you. Of course, you’d be more comfortable with your genetic family. You need to process this by setting firm boundaries with her and telling her that it isn’t a contest or competition. If she says those things to you – she is actually pushing you away, so it benefits you both if she realizes that and simply enjoys what time she has with you. You need to decide how to persuade her to stop being childish and realize that you want to expand your family and knowledge of your own genetic roots/heritage. No matter how much she wants to pretend otherwise, hers are not yours but were grafted onto you by legal force.

From a kinship guardian – The only thing you can do is tell her that you’re not trying and will not replace her. And suggest therapy gently to her. All the rest is completely in her hands and you can’t jeopardize your reunion because of her insecurities. Losing a husband is a traumatic event. And I can only imagine that she is afraid of losing you as well. It must be a hard place to be. But even if that’s the case, you cannot be responsible for that. She needs to work on herself instead of making you responsible for her emotional well-being. If we agree to take on the care of other adult’s wellbeing, as our own responsibility, it will start a chain of mess that can be never ending. Big hugs to you. Just keep in mind that by respecting your own wishes, you are doing the right thing for you. You don’t owe either of your mothers their own happiness.

Not A “New” Life

This comment came up in a discussion about how adoptive parents change the name of their adoptee when the adoption is finalized. One woman commented – “Nothing wrong with that, we started using his new name too to get him used to it. New life, new name.” She was quickly corrected – “I need you to fucking not. Adoption isn’t a “new life”, it’s a continuation of the life they are already living. This comment is insensitive at best.” This one had started new childcare job. She is a domestic infant adoptee. One child in her class is in the process of being adopted and that X is their legal name and Y is the name the adoptive parents have chosen to change it to. This child isn’t an infant, so the childcare workers are basically having to train the child to respond to a new name.

I will admit, I did a little sleuthing into the one who made the insensitive comment but could find nothing definite except that she is relatively new in the all things adoption group. There are some interesting photos but nothing certain as to her status in adoptionland but her comment seems to indicate an adoption there.

Lacking that, I looked for some context and found this recent (Oct 2022) article in The Atlantic LINK>Adoption Is Not a Fairy-Tale Ending, with the subtitle – It’s a complicated beginning. While maybe not perfectly what I was looking for, I did see how it begins – In America, popular narratives about adoption tend to focus on happy endings. Poor mothers who were predestined to give their children away for a “better life”; unwanted kids turned into chosen ones; made-for-television reunions years later. Since childhood, these story lines about the industry of infant adoptions had gradually seeped into my subconscious from movies, books, and the news.

The author, Erika Hayasaki, notes – researching a book on identical twins raised in radically different circumstances, the reality of adoption is far more complicated than some might think—and, as many adoptees and scholars have argued, deserving of a more clear-eyed appraisal across American culture. Her book, Somewhere Sisters, chronicles identical twins Isabella and Hà were born in Vietnam in 1998, and their mother struggled to care for them. Isabella (born Loan) was adopted by a wealthy, white American family that gave her a new name and raised her in the suburbs of Chicago. Hà was adopted by a biological aunt and her partner, and grew up in a rural village in Vietnam with sporadic electricity and frequent monsoons.

Twins have always fascinated me. I was born a Gemini and have always wondered what happened to my twin. When I was a child, my 13 month younger sister and I were often dressed alike and sometimes people thought we were twins. When my daughter was preschool age, she used to claim we were twins. I suppose I’ve had at least two surrogate twins in my life. I digress.

The author discovered that when reunions with birth families do happen, they aren’t always happy; they can be painful, confusing, or traumatic. Adoptees who are parents, lawyers, educators, or activists are challenging the rosy image of adoption that stubbornly persists in our culture. Children are not offered up for adoption in a vacuum. Many of them “are available because of certain, very strategic political policies.” Often the reasons for removing children from their parents comes under the heading of “neglect.” Throughout adoption history, this broad category has encompassed homelessness, poor hygiene, absent parents, and drug abuse in some instances, or simply leaving a child with caregivers outside the nuclear family.

A happily ever story after adoption often comes at the cost of forsaking everything that came before. The process, known in the adoptee community as coming out of the fog, refers to when an adoptee starts to see beyond the narrative about fate and question their true feelings about the adoption system, and how it has impacted their relationships, personalities, and identity formation. As the child of two adoptees, I also had my moment of coming out of the fog because adoption had seemed like the most natural thing to me until I was over 50, both of my parents had died and I began to discover my families true origins.

For me, coming out of the fog was, and continues to be, a process that involves simultaneously holding my adoptive grandparent’s love and good intentions in my heart’s memories alongside all the ways that adoption robbed me of what, for most people, is almost an unconsidered common reality. There are all of these contradictory realities within one’s experience of belonging to a family created by adoptions. The duality of that space can be hard for those without such a background to reasonably understand.

Greg Louganis Adoptee

Greg Louganis and his biological father, Fouvale Lutu, in 2017

I learned about this adoptee from a favorite adoptee blogger, Tony Corsentino, in a recent blog LINK>Beautiful Man. I personally LOVE reunion stories.

I’ll admit I really didn’t know anything about Louganis’ Olympic career. In 2017, People magazine wrote about his reunion with his paternal family – LINK>How He Found His Birth Father by Patrick Gomez. Louganis told People – “I needed to know I wasn’t a throw-away child.” Like many adoptees (my mom included) being adopted filled him with questions about his birth parents. Being told his biological parents had been young when he was born and had no choice in giving him up for adoption, he says “helped ease the question of whether I was loved.”

Louganis’s birth parents met in Hawaii, but his biological mother moved to San Diego while pregnant and Louganis entered the foster care system at birth. At 9 months, he was adopted by Southern California-based Frances and Peter Louganis, who were unable to have biological children. The couple had also adopted a daughter two years before and were always open with their kids about their family history.

Among his biggest fans was Fouvale Lutu, who for years had quietly followed his son’s life from afar. When an endorsement event for Speedo brought Louganis to Honolulu in 1984, Lutu decided it was time to meet his first-born son. “One of the hosts came up to me and said, ‘Your father’s here.’ And I said, ‘My father’s in San Diego,’ ” recalls Louganis. Then he said, ‘No. Your biological father.’ “

“It was interesting because as the years progressed,” Louganis says, “I saw a lot of similar traits in him that I saw in myself.” He adds, “when I did the DNA testing and found out how we were connected, it validated everything that I knew in my heart.” Through the DNA test, he also discovered the identity of his birth mother.

Back to Tony Corsentino, his adoptive parents extolled Louganis as a role model for him. This caused him to realize he had resented Greg Louganis as a child. In maturity, he realized that his parents’ tokenizing of Louganis as what adoptees can achieve was mixed in with his resentment. Then, he realized that he would have needed to be able to theorize his adoption in terms that separated his own self and his questions and needs as an adoptee, from his adoptive parents, their motives and their needs as adopters. The idea of adoptee-in-reunion erasing everything that does not support the dominant conception of adoption as child welfare through family creation. The very idea of finding and reclaiming one’s roots.

A bit more about erasure from Tony – the term is a cultural project requiring many interconnecting parts: laws, institutions, ideas. Denial of citizenship to intercountry adoptees is one manifestation of it. Also, adopting children out of their communities; punitive, draconian terminations of parental rights through our systems of family policing; sealing of birth records. More broadly still: ideas of adoption as child rescue, and the presumption of adoptee gratitude, function to enmesh everyone in the project of erasure. Against such a polymorphous force, resistance takes correspondingly many forms. Greg Louganis’s willingness to talk about his reunion and his reassertion of his ancestral identity through inscribing and adorning his body with native tattoos are potent acts of anti-erasure, no matter how personal their meaning for him.

I love reunion stories because I had to make a determined effort to reclaim my original roots for my own self.

A For Effort

Today’s story – I reunited with my biological family when I was 17 and have lost contact with my adoptive family since then, due to abuse/abandonment. My kids have always known my biological family as family and thankfully there isn’t any way for them to know how different it feels for me. Over the summer we moved from Wisconsin to Kansas to be close to my biological family. My birth mother and I have always had a challenging relationship and this move has made it unbearable. We moved into a house her boyfriend had available to rent and this has caused her to feel entitled to overstep when it comes to my kids and my life. She never had other kids and seems to be wanting to make up for it with mine. I’m almost 40 and am struggling greatly. Through the move, I have discovered that Wisconsin is truly home to me and my kids, and my real family, that I thought I was searching for, is the family I created back in Wisconsin. Now my kids and I are working on moving back and I’m struggling with so many emotions. I desperately want to be back home as soon as we can find housing but I know that moving back will likely server the unhealthy ties I have with my birth mom. It’s a relationship that part of my heart has always longed for but causes me endless stress.

Not all reunions work out. It is so hard to develop relationships with people you’ve not known your whole life – I know. I’m there myself. Boundaries are the distance where I can love you and me simultaneously.

Sometimes we have to try something to know it isn’t right for us. Teaching our kids that decisions don’t have to be forever, that it’s okay to change your mind and realize you aren’t where you need to be, and to then take steps to change your circumstances as soon as you reasonably can.

It’s Never Too Late

Just a happy reunion story to give all of those adoptees and their first mothers hope by way of LINK> The Guardian – A new start after 60: I became a mother at 62. I am only going to share some highlights. The full story is at the link.

It sort of reminded me of how I connected with my nephew – a surprise email sent to our business account, that my husband forwarded to me. After Martha retired, a former colleague forwarded an email to her saying, “This seems kind of important,” adding a smiley face. I am a “sign” kind of person and so I really liked reading this part – she looked out of the window, “and there was this amazing double rainbow in the east. I thought: that’s a sign. I wrote a short note: ‘Hello, oh my gosh, I haven’t seen you since you were teeny tiny.’” At 62, Einerson had “become a mother”.

It was 1977 and in her first year at the University of Dallas. Yet by the time she knew she was pregnant, her relationship with Tallert’s birth father was ending. So, with her family’s support, she decided to give her child up for adoption. Later, as a professor of communication studies, who specialized in interpersonal communication and personal relationships, she often shared the story of her pregnancy. When she did the question was Don’t you want to find him ? And she would say: “You know, I don’t.” She goes on to elaborate that “My mother always told me: ‘You were his mother for nine months …’ but when you make a big decision, affirm it and reaffirm it as often as you need. And I did. It worked.”

She goes on to admit that every few years, she would wonder if her son was OK and if he was still alive. Even though she would tell people she wasn’t looking for him, she did register with adoption agencies, so he could track her down. Yet, she felt she had made a commitment to give him to another family. My adoptee dad was kind of like that too. He believed once you were adopted that adoptive family was your ONLY family. He never expressed to me any desire to find out anything about his adoption. Sadly, his half-sister was living only 90 miles away from him when he died and could have told him so much about his original mother.

Like many mothers who surrender their first born (my original maternal grandmother was one of those), she had no more children; though she and her husband have “a fantastic relationship … We were unable to have children of our own so we both dove into our careers.”

Happily, like many adoptees who achieve a reunion with their original mother, they quickly clicked with one another and discovered they naturally had behaviors in common (that is the genetic nature part of any human being’s personality). Sort of like how my grown daughter has called me by my first name since she was a toddler (though also “mom”), Tallert calls her Martha. “But once in a while, in a close moment, he’ll call me Mom,” she says. “And it still feels as good as it did the first time.” I too feel good when one of my children calls me “mom” or when one of my grandchildren calls me “grandma.” I guess it’s natural.