[Amandak249]

I began my reunion when I was 12.

I expected everyone to be happy to see me, because I was always told that my birthparents HAD wanted me, that they simply were not ready. On my bmom’s side, I found her- a very good natured addict who oozed with syrupy love for me, and who would never reveal much to me because it “hurt her”- and my birth grandmother- who had seen so many of her grandchildren come and go that I was barely on her radar.

I was more hopeful about my birthfathers side. Instead, I found a family divided. Some members desperately wanted to get to know me- while others couldn’t let go of my adoption - something they had protested long ago. Everyone was kind and welcoming, though there was an undercurrent of hurt in my visits. Those who were opposed slowly grew to like me, when they saw how much I resembled their son and brother, my birthfather. When my bsister started acting out a few years later (she’s very troubled) and complained about me and my relationship with “HER” father, the reluctant members of the family withdrew their love for me, and desperately tried to protect my sister from my existence. Only now, at least a good 4 or 5 years since that happened, has my relationship with my birthfather begun to heal. I speak only to him now, and occasionally his girlfriend. I lost the others long ago.

When I searched, I remember expecting a family just like my own. Well adjusted, loving, and eager to welcome in the daughter they surrendered years ago. Now that I’m in my 20’s, I know that this was unrealistic, that it was merely the thought process of a little girl who had no idea what she was about to get into.

My adoption turned out for the best. I am a success story. I have a wonderful family, many friends, and a successful and full life. On some levels, I am grateful that my family adopted me and that I have such a wonderful life. But I am not grateful for being placed. I see my placement and my adoption as two different events( silly, I know).

There is a hardening around my heart when it comes to my birth family. I accept their reasons, I do not share with them my anger. I do not tell them that I always exercise at least 2 or 3 methods of birth control at once, in order to ensure that I never find myself in their position. I care deeply about them, but I don’t know that I’ll ever forgive them

I have been forever cut off from my genetic lineage, my heritage, my ancestors, and my family of origin. They have robbed me of the knowledge of what it’s like to grow up with the family I was born into. My birthparents, my birth family in its entirety- made a choice about me over 20 years ago. I have lived my entire life with the knowledge of their decision. I have gained a lot, yes. But I have lost something primal, something deeply embedded within me, and though I am pleased to have a relationship with them, I cannot escape from the knowledge that they left me. And although I will gracefully accept it, I will call them and be kind to them and care about them deeply, I will never forget. I have sympathy, compassion, and love in my heart for them. But I will always hold back. I will always be guarded. A part of me will never really understand how they could leave me.

This is what my reunion has given me. My expectations have simply melted away. This is the reality I have discovered in my search for self.

I am a very happy person. I have a wonderful, supportive family. I am happy to be where I am. Underneath my adjusted exterior, deep inside me, lies the child who was cast away. I will feel the ramifications, both good and bad, of my adoption until I die. I can never escape it. For this reason, I will always hold myself back from my birth family. I can’t forget,and I refuse to give them all of my heart, all of my soul and my love, because I feel like they relinquished that along with my infant self. I will never give them my all- lest they disappear again.