I had not realized how adversely closed adoption, and the absence of my biological history had affected me until I gave birth to my son Gabriel. When I held him in my arms, for the first time in my life I felt connected to the earth-Adoptee and adoptive parent Cori
For so many years I’ve looked to others to help me find my way. To steer me away from the rocks. To be my lighthouse. To be my beacon in a sometimes chaotic and unhappy life. Most of the time, the chaos was of my own doing. Being too opinionated to listen to other view points. Eating too much. Drinking too much. Yelling at my children. Yelling at my husband. All because I wasn’t happy. What happiness was I looking for? What more did I need? I’m not really sure. I am good woman. I’ve got a good heart. A husband that loves me like no other. Children that rock my world! A family that loves me. Friends that I can bare my soul to and never, ever have to worry about judgement. What more could a woman want?
I’ve finally concluded it’s my identity. To know who I am. My background. Where I come from. Who it was that bore me. Do I look like her? Do I act like her? Do I have her smile? Do I sing like her? She was 5’10”. Why am I only 5’6″? Do I look like my birth father? Does he know anything about me? Why didn’t she come looking for me when I turned 18? Doesn’t she know I love her? Does she love me? All these questions swirl in my mind and make me exhausted.
I’ve thought a lot about finding my birth mom, but I always think I’ll wait a bit longer. Till my life is perfect. Really? Who the hell’s life is perfect? What the hell am I waiting for? Why must I answer these questions? Shouldn’t I be happy with what is? Know that I am my own person. That I AM my own safe harbor. That I am the one who is ultimately responsible for my happiness. For if I am happy. If I have my identity, which my one true mother gave me, shouldn’t that be enough?
The mother who raised me is the one that made me who I am. She is the one that stayed up nights when I was sick. Built me up when I needed it. Tore me down when I needed it. Loved me through it all. She and I have had our moments. We have had our fights and disagreements. But she has always been my mother. I love her. She loves me. She is the one that taught me self-reliance and how to do things on my own. Just because I was born a girl, didn’t mean I had limitations. That I learned from my mother. My dear, sweet P. I get my voice from her. My attitude. Even my blue eyes. Really. No, not really. But she and I do look a lot alike. She and I are a good argument for Nature vs. Nurture. She has ALWAYS been my lighthouse. My safe harbor. She taught me to be my own safe harbor. I forgot that. Till last night. Till I wrote all of this today.
Will I find my birth mother? I’m not sure. I’d like to, but not at the expense of hurting my mommy. With her help, I’d like to. We’ll just see what the future brings. What storms come. What protection I seek. We’ll. Just. See.