About a year ago I received a letter in the mail, from a woman I had never met before, but changed my life forever. The letter was from a woman claiming to be my birth mother. Now, being adopted, I really never expected her to come looking for me. I had always envisioned I would be the one to search for her when I was ready. But here was this letter. I must have read it about a thousand times.
So, I drove out to Chicago and sat down with my Mother who raised me to prepare her before I brought this other woman into my life. It was hard for her at first. Mainly due to her finding me. She also expected for me to find her, not the other way around. If I had been looking for her, things would have been different. My mother could have prepared herself for this moment that she knew one day would come. And for all of the parents who adopted children, one of their fears that the biological parents would try to take over the role of a parent. She recovered from the initial shock and was as inquisitive about the whole situation as I was - well, almost as inquisitive.
With the support of one of my dearest friends, Kim, sitting nearby, I dialed the number. The phone started to ring, my heart was doing mach 20 and I was about to chicken out when a man picked up the phone. I felt as though I had no choice but to ask for her. Then she picked up the phone and said Hello. I have never in my life listened so intently to the voice of a person and how each word was pronounced. Once the world came back into focus, and I could believe this was actually happening, I could finally ask the questions that have been plaguing me for years. So much information was shared that night it was truly exhausting, and yet satisfying at the same time.
Over the past year, we have been keeping in touch via phone and internet. Then we finally met. I am a spitting image of this woman. The first time I looked at this woman, in her eyes was remarkable moment. I had never experienced anything so intimate like that before. I had never known anyone with the same eyes, hair, nose, legs. Pictures of her when she was my age, people would think they were looking at me. I am so glad to have her in my life. I have gained a special friend who can also link me to my heritage. Show me where I got my nose from. It really puts the question out there: Is the way people act due to heredity or the environment they grew up in?
Whenever I say the word mother around people, they always ask me Who, your real mother? and I always reply, Which one do you mean? My definition of Mother is a woman who has made the right choices, even if it means she has to make sacrifices for her child's well being.
According to my definition of the word Mother, both
my Birth Mother and my Adoptive Mother Have made
decisions and sacrifices for me, the adopted child. Which is saying
a lot, since, in this world, your lucky if you even get one person
good enough to call your mother. There is this poem I had found
really sums it up.
The Legacy of an Adopted Child - Author Anonymous
Legacy of an Adopted Child
Once there were two women, who never knew each other.
One you do not remember, the other you call your mother.
Two different lives, shaped to make your one.
One became your guiding star, the other became your sun.
The first gave you life, the second taught you to live in it.
The first gave you a need for love, and the second was there to
give it.
One gave you a nationality; the other gave you a name.
One gave you a seed of talent; the other gave you an aim.
One gave you emotions; the other calmed your fears.
One saw your first smile; the other dried your tears.
One gave you up; it was all that she could do.
The other prayed for a child, and was led straight to you.
And now you ask me through your tears.
The age-old question through the years:
Heredity or environment ñ which are you the product of?
Neither, my darling, neither -
Just two different kinds of love.
-Anonymous