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Well, I bit the bullet.
I called my mom this afternoon and had a real heart to heart with her. I told her what pain I'd been going through for the past 22 years and how that's finally been able to heal.
It's funny, I do think that the doctor I used was really the 'bad guy' in this picture. It was 1985 but he was really following old school closed adoption procedures.
My mom used the analogy 'We never spoke to you about it because we thought it was like a wound, and speaking to you would be like picking away the scab.' Which allowed me to answer, 'not being able to speak about it meant that the wound never got to heal.'
I'm still cautious, but I'm not so torn up inside at the moment.
Thanks for the stories and the hugs!
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