So now you know my story. It’s not exactly pretty, but it is what it is. I found that out about a month and a half ago, and since then, I have been on the damned emotional roller coaster, which I can’t stand. It’s so confusing. Sometimes I feel like my genetic background doesn’t matter, and sometimes, I think it does. Most of the time I feel empathy and sadness for my biological mother, but every so often, the anger creeps in. I don’t want that. It’s not so much anger at her as anger at the whole situation.
Medical and health details please…
A big part of why I want to find my biological family is that I’m sick. I have a several serious autoimmune diseases, and the medical information could be really helpful. I could send away to the Ontario government, but from what my doctor told me, it tends to be loathe to release much information, and even if they release the scant medical information they have, it wouldn’t help. No one knew to look for these types of diseases back then.
Aside of knowing this information for myself, I would like it for my kids. For example, if I had known depression runs in my family, I may have been better prepared to watch for signs of it in my children, and my oldest wouldn’t have spiraled down the way she did. I would have known to watch for the signs of an autoimmune disease in my younger daughter, and she could have started treatment before the damage was done. She wouldn’t have been accused by an ER doc of using drugs and we could have gotten her treatment started sooner.
But you have some background already!
No, what I have is a sheet full of false details. I wasn’t born at 40 weeks gestation like my redacted birth certificate says. I was born two months premature. I was smaller than my redacted BC indicates, and the name of the women listed as my biological mother is also a lie.
The social history ? Why even bother. It’s nearly all made up. A fantasy either crafted to protect my biological mother, her family and maybe even me, although I doubt my feelings were high on the list of considerations. The story of a teenage romance that ended before my mother found out she was pregnant may sound nice and maybe even a bit romantic, but who does it help?
No one. That’s who. Why even bother saying anything at all?
The search begins
For anyone who would like to know, yes, I have started trying to find my biological family. I admit it’s both for medical reasons and curiosity. Ms. More was able to help me track them down and she and her team were even able to make me a family tree. It’s actually ironic in a sense because I, the unwanted child that many in the family/extended family don’t even know exists, know a whole lot more about the family and it’s genealogical background than many of them do.
Some might say that should be enough, and it could be that it will have to be.
Some of you may be asking why I feel this need to know my genetic heritage (for lack of a better term). My honest answer is that, aside of the medical information, I really don’t know why I want to know. I already have my adoptive fmaily whom I love very much. They are my mom and dad. My biological mother, right now, is nothing to me. She’s a stranger.
As for my biological father?
In the ‘social history” prepared for me and my adoptive parents when they adopted me,my biological father was dating my biological mother. He was a nice guy and a good listener, but was a bit older than she was ( a couple of years). There was a physical description of him as well as his age and the country he lived in. I used to joke he came up this way as a draft dodger. Boy was I wrong! The porblem became the lack fo information beyond this allowed my mind to build up all sorts of scenarios, some good, some bad. I never thought the truth woudl be what it was.
When I was in university, I took a sociology course, and one of the topics covered was serial killers. The assigned reading was a text about the psychology/social development of a psychopath, and in the back of my mind I would wonder, ” what if one of these men is my biological father…what would that mean for me? Will I end up like him?”.
Turns out, the reality isn’t much better. While my biological father may not be a killer, he’s still a pervert ( i don’t know the correct term for a man who molests his daughter and gets her pregnant or a brother who molests his sister and gets her pregnant, so I’m using “perv”. While I’m no “perv”, I cna’t help but wonder what all this means , long term for me and my kids, two of whom are now adults.
So what now?
So here I am, stuck in the middle of trying to come to terms with all of this and also attempting to figure out what to do next. I have made a couple of small attempts at contact, but I’m not sure what the best approach to all of this is.
If you’re reading this and have any advice, I’d be more than happy to hear it. Right now, I can use all the help I can get.