[isolta]

I have to start by saying that after many years, I’m still a bit reluctant to share any of this because it’s so very personal. On the other hand, it seems like the only hope of helping others in this area is to share. So here goes:

At a particular time in my life, I suddenly and unexpectedly became aware that I was a father. I came face to face with my biological daughter under circumstances that I can only describe as unusual. At the time, I had no idea that she existed. When I looked into her face, there was a flash of recognition, then something like a shock wave rolled through me. It was almost like looking in a mirror. She wasn’t some kid who looked like me, she *was* me. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind. You don’t look in the mirror and wonder who that is, you just know. That’s the level of certainty we’re talking about. I was instantly flooded with multiple emotions, each of which was at the extreme end of the intensity scale. I was absolutely dumbfounded. I could barely breathe, much less think of something to say. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her as she walked away and out of my life.

As I started to recover, the emotion that stayed behind was fear. It’s a sad confession to make, but I started to wonder if her birth mother was up to some scheme to make life difficult for me. My life had been on track and everything was now uncertain. God forgive me, but I decided to try to forget that it had ever happened.

Fortunately, I couldn’t forget. When I went to bed that night, there was my daughter, not there to harass me or give me insomnia, but just as a gentle reminder. When I woke up in the morning, there she was again, just a gentle reminder. (Tears are starting to well up as a write this.) I would go to work and put her out of my mind, but the next night, when I went to bed, there she was again, the gentle reminder. The next morning, the same thing. This went on day after day and night after night, week after week, month after month, until gradually, by degrees, I came to accept her.

After about a year, I started to wonder what had happened to her. At a certain point, I became concerned that I had a teenage daughter out there somewhere, I had know idea where, and the thought that she might have been raised by her birth mother or put in foster care was starting to scare me. All sorts of horror scenarios started to invade my mind. The gentle reminder was now replaced by restless nights and increasing concern. How could I have been so indifferent? A large helping of guilt was now added to the emotional mix.

I need to compress this story because it’s getting too long and too personal. So let me jump ahead. I now have reason to believe that my daughter was adopted shortly after birth in an open arrangement. I am quite sure that she knows she’s and adoptee and knows that I’m her biological father, but doesn’t want to contact me. (Postings on adoption/reunion websites haven’t helped in the least.) I’m still searching for her. At one point, in the last days of 2005, I was sure that I had found her, but the young lady at the other end says no, she’s not my daughter, and doesn’t want to be bothered. I’m not hurt, I just want to find my daughter. I’m now haunted by the prospect that she may feel abandoned by both of her biological parents. I’ve read about adoptees having low self-esteem and problems with trust. I have a pretty thick skin and I can take it if she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me, but I can’t take the idea that she may think that I don’t want to have anything to do with her.

My advice to other bio-fathers: Be open, be responsible, don’t get into denial, if you think there’s even the slightest chance that you may have fathered a child, find out for sure, and if there’s an opportunity to connect, take it! (It’s not about custody, it’s not about failed relationships, it’s not about child support... it’s about mutual acceptance.)

Hope this is helpful...

isolta (lta = lost to adoption)