[darkman]

Part One - The Beginning

My name is Paul, Born 21st March 1973 in Newcastle, New South Wales, Australia and I am adopted. (This sounds frightfully like an AA meeting). This is the first site I came to after a google search. I hail from Perth, Western Australia. Please, don't hold that against me.

I have always known that I was adopted and this hasn't really affected me in anyway that I have noticed. In some ways I felt more special than others that I was chosen. How many other kids could say that? My earliest memories about being adopted are quite fuzzy but I do remember my mum would always tell me this little story about this little boy who was chosen and his new mummy and daddy loved him very much. She called this chosen thing adoption. So the word never really bothered me that much either.

I always loved that story and would forever make my mother tell me it over and over again. (I was easily amused) Well one day, I don't remember when, mum told me the story one more time and at the end apparently changed it to something along these lines.
"and the little boy lived happily ever after"
“you like that story don’t you son?”
“yeahhh”
Then a dramatic pause. "Do you know what son?"
"What mum?"
"That little boy in that story was you"
"oh ok."

That was it. That was the start of my journey into where I am today. That was what mum told me many years later on how the news was broke to me. No tears, shocks, hair pulling or general name-calling. I reckon she did a sterling job.
As I got older I was told some other things such as:-
The reason why I was small as in height was "That your real mum was a bit on the short side"
“You real mum was born in Germany apparently.” (This went down well as mum was English and lived through the Blitz)
I was in a Humid crib for the first month of my life as I was a prem babay.
My real mum went to Europe and did the Aussie thing of getting as far away from the country as you can possibly go and met a Dutch bloke at the age of 16 and in turn got knocked up. (This is what mum was told mind you)
I was born in Newcastle NSW and adopted out, as my Bio-Mum was only 16.

So most of my life I have believed that my Bio-Mum was around 16 years older than myself and may possibly be in Newcastle NSW. My Bio-Dad was in Europe somewhere. I had romantic notions of meeting her and she would be super rich (more than my mum and dad were anyway. They were what you would call over here as a 'Battler''. A person who struggles through life but is admired by everyone in general as decent person.) Maybe she would just be a really nice person now and be full of life and have loads of kids of her own. They would all welcome me with open arms and I would jut instantly fit in. Maybe she could take me away and protect me from the bullying I was on the receiving end at school. My school life was not one of the happiest. I know that is probably a very horrible thing to say, but I was only a child and children do not have the life skills to really think any differently.

I was always curious though. Would my Bio-mum look like me? Would she like me? Would she be proud of me? Why did she give me up? Why could she not look after me? Did I do something wrong? (Like being born and all) Would I be treated as the prodigal son returned? Did she live in a mansion or a caravan? Did she drive? What did she do for work? There were just s many questions that I needed answers to. I just did not know where to start.

I had a fantastic childhood with my parents and they showered me with as much love as you could give a child. I could never and would never want to take my time with them away. They have done more for me that anyone else in my life will ever do. They have taught me so much about life and let me find things out about life on my own that I am eternally grateful. They are my parents. But something was always missing with me. I never really clicked with my parents in a way that I could never explain. They sometimes just did not ‘get me’. My humor at times seems so ‘out there’, so much so that I was sometimes embarrassing to them. I also could not connect with my parents on an intellectual level. I find it hard to explain without sounding big headed but I would constantly leave them looking glassy eyed whilst I was attempting to explain something to them.

The rest of my family never really accepted me. A few members did but most of my aunties, cousins, uncles and godparents seemed to just tolerate me. Dads’ sister for instance be forever showering me with praise and gave me gifts until her first grandchild was born. I suppose I could accept this is he was flesh and blood. But to me at around 10 years old, I found this rather difficult to fathom. No matter how much my mum attempted to explain it to me. This as the first time I had noticed a kind of hostility towards me.

Growing up, I thought more of my Bio-mum and what she was doing now. Did she want to know me? What if I found her and she rejected me. She rejected me once in the past, why wouldn’t it happen a second time. I have always been fearful of rejection. I discussed finding Bio-mum with mum numerous times and my mother was fully supportive of it. Although she did say to me that she would prefer it is she passed on before I did find her. I respected her wishes.

In 1988 we moved to the UK when I was 15. By that time I had settled over there and the chance of actually finding Bio-mum seemed very remote. I think it may have had something to do with her being on the other side of the world. I thought I had a better chance of finding Bio-dad whose last known whereabouts was Holland. Just across the North Sea. Seeing though as I knew little more than nothing about him. I kind of put that idea safely on the backburner.

I eventually moved back to Australia in 1996 and started to think about finding Bio-mum again. But again, they were no more than romantic notions. I just had too much going on with my life at the time. But I never lost that feeling of ‘what if?’ and also that feeling I had always had since a child of not being complete. But now I was on my own and the fear of rejection raised its ugly head once more.

People ask me what it means “not being complete” and I have no snappy answer that I can come up with to tell them so I usually just bluff my way through. I believe what I mean is my parents are the people who brought up the best way that they could and tried to not have me to want for anything. But they are not my blood relatives and as such wouldn’t understand the anxieties that I would have and also understand me as a person that a full blood relative would. Do not judge me by what I am writing here this is just my way of attempting to explain what it would means to me. An adoptee though does seem to understand what I mean.

One example that I could give would be a time in the early 90’s when I had a conversation with mum. I was explaining to her, quite innocently I thought, that personality wise I would take after my Bio-mum. Mum refused to believe this stating that I surely would take after mum and dad, as they are the ones who brought me up. I always thought that behaviors were genetic and not just product of environment. A large argument ensued and I stormed off out the house in a huff. Sometime later when I returned home, mum was very upset and had been crying which in turn started me off. I never did like to see anyone crying. I eventually agreed with mum that I would not take after my Bio-parents as my parents brought me up. I never did actually believe it though.

So another way of saying being complete in the sense that being understood by someone and being taken at face value and not having other prejudices influencing them when discussing things with me.

One other thing that used to play on my mind a fair bit when I was younger was the issue of brothers and sisters. I always thought that Bio-mum would more than likely had more kids after me. I’m sure the same would apply for Bio-dad also. I guessed that I had a few brothers and sisters running around by now. I’d be the oldest one and the one they could look up to. I always wondered what they were up to by now and did they know about me. If they did, did they think about me? What were their names? Were they good looking? Did they have better luck with the opposite sex? Probably more luck than I ever did as a teenager.

Also, did I have brothers and sisters in Europe? Would Bio-dad have sown his wild oats all over Holland? Chances are that by now he would have. I wonder what the chances of finding my brothers and sisters would have been in Europe? You would not imagine how this played on my mind. I couldn’t really talk to mum and dad about it without upsetting them. But as you will find out, all was not as it seemed. Everything that I believed in up to this point was from information told to me by my mum by the adoption agency in NSW. Did I have any reason to doubt it? No. Governments never lie. Do they?

[darkman]

Part Two - First Contact

Around September time in 2000 I get a very strange phone call from my fiancé that someone was trying to get in touch with my using my full name. There were only two people that ever did call me by my full name. There were the types of institutions that wanted money out of me. (Read, debt collector. I was a bit carefree then). Or the was my parent’s if I was in serious trouble with them, mum especially. I was told by my fiancée Carmen that this strange woman had also asked about a previous address that I had not lived in for around 24 years and questions about mum and dad. No one knew that previous address in Ashcroft, NSW, except my parents and maybe a few close relatives. I was quite perplexed to say the least. Carmen then went on to inform me that “she” would call back later that night.

Bear in mind that I still thought I had owed money to someone so I really did not give it all that much thought. I think I may have spent more time thinking ways to get out of paying the money that I presumably owed. At around 7pm that night the phone rang and I walked apprehensively up to it and answered it. It was a woman calling herself "Mary*" and started to ask some fairly close questions such as :-
“Did you live at this address?” [Address given]
“Is this your mum?” [Name given]
“Is this your dad?” [Name given]

More questions followed which I as giving monosyllabic answers and still trying to find out where all of this was leading. She finally asked one more question which for the life of me I cannot remember. By this time I was starting to panic. Who was this woman? What government agency is this? Is it because I believe in UFO’s? Was it because I got onto the train once or twice without paying? Had the transit police finally caught up with me and I was to present my self at the nearest police station to be arrested and thrown in jail? I purposely answered that last question wrong. HA! That will throw her off. Mary then said “Oh I’m sorry, I do apologize, I have the wrong number”.

Hang on wait, it’s not supposed to be this easy to get rid of a debt collector and I still wanted to know whom it was that was asking all these questions. But Mary was just about to hang up and did sound genuinely dejected. Had to think quick but what to do? I quickly replied just before Mary hung up the receiver.
“No wait, what the hell do you want to know about my mum and dad for?” Her mood suddenly changed the sound of deflation had disappeared and new sense of determination entered her voice.
“Ok, this is about your mum”
“yeah? right?” In a non-committal tone.
“No I don’t think you understand but this is about your real mum….”
The next sound you heard was the sound of my jaw hitting the floor.
“M-m-my real mum?” I looked over at Carmen and my flat mate Bill* who were just staring at me half listening to the conversation but now had somewhat confused looks on their faces. They had been talking about the strange phone call to our house earlier in the day. I guess they were curious too.
“Yes..” this is all paraphrased now as you could imagine, I was in a bit of shock!! ”..her name is Felicity* blah blah blahdy blah blah blahdy and she is a achondroplastic dwarf .”.
“oh, ok” Still shocked. From then on it just got that little bit more surreal.
“Oh and you also have a brother, a full brother, his name is Frank* and he is two years older than you”
“I have a full brother?' as you can imagine this time Carmen and Bill were sat there looking as much of a stunned mullet as I must have looked like. The rest of the conversation seemed a bit of a blur to me now as you could well imagine. In fact the rest of the night is a bit of a blur.

I do remember discussing it with Carmen and Bill and seemed more shocked that I had a full brother! I always knew I had a mother, which went without saying but a brother. A fully-fledged brother “that..that..but…I have a brother”. I was speechless.

Mary and I finished the conversation with me confirmed that yes, I would like to keep in contact and know more about my bio-family and arrangements were made for me to call them tomorrow night to speak with my brother.
My other memory of that night was sitting under our pergola smoking cigarettes furiously and just talking about it. I also remember phoning a work colleague advising her that I would not be in work tomorrow. How could I? She did seem genuinely happy for me though. .

When people are in a state of shock they do tend to say things and do things they normally would not do. And when those things have been done, not much thought is usually given to when you actually agree to do the said things in the first place. Now I have agreed to phone my brother. A full brother that never knew even existed. As of half an hour ago I was an only child now I had a brother that I guess I always wished that I had had.

What would I say to him? What could I say to him? 27 years of talks, fights, love, friendship, hatred, borrowing, lending, punching, kicking, stealing, backing up, standing up for and all the other emotions and experiences you have with a sibling. I felt that I had to say all this in my opening sentence to him. How do I say hi? Am I suave and confident?
“Well hello there…”.
Do I be hip and cool?
“Howya doooin!”.
Nervous?
“er….er…hi?”
What does one say in a moment like this? I had no idea. What were we going to talk about?
“Well, my favorite colour is blue”
“I like turtles”
“I broke my arm once”
“I don’t have a car at the moment”

I had no idea. What do you talk about when you’re going to have a phone conversation such as this? All the questions that arose from that around ten minuet phone call from Mary sent my head in such a spin that I thought I was going to be sick. I suppose though that I would do as I normally do and bluff my way through a situation.

I got up the next morning still in a daze and spent most of the day kind of thinking what I was going to say to him. What was he like? Did he look like me? Would he accept me? Would he like the same things that I like? I tried to go about my day as normal. Yeah right, like that was going to happen. So pretty much most of my day was I spent just thinking, panicking and talking with Carmen.

The night finally came when I was to call him. Now working with phones most of my working life and calling people I do not know on a daily basis, does not worry me. It didn’t faze me to call just call someone and this occasion seemed no different, or so I looked at it. I just used my years of experience to just make the call. At least I didn’t do the thing you always seem to do when you’re around 16 and your calling a girl for the first time. You know, you dial the number and when you get to the last number you hang up. More maturity I suppose. This should be interesting. I’m going to speak to my brother. Wow! I just dialed that last digit and...

...Sh*t! It’s ringing!

[shiloblwe]

Thank you so much for sharing. I am on the edge of my seat, please tell more!

Erica

[MARIA T POWER]

what happened next?!?!

[Montraviatommyg]

Incredible story, must know more.

Pip

[darkman]

I am working on part 3 at the moment. I released the other two parts to test the water. Now that I have seen that people want to read it, it has given me reason to finish the project.

[almab]

YEs, please finish this story!

[Raina0831]

You are too good at this, Darkman! It's like reading a book and wanting to turn the page and keep on reading when you know you need to put it down, or like watching a soap opera and having to wait until the next day to see what happens. LOL. I am on the edge of my seat too!

Raina

[darkman]

3 I have a brother?



Ring Ring….Ring Ring… Ring Ring…click.. “hello?” is that him?

“Hi, is that Frank?”

“Yes” HOLY ****!!

“Hi, I believe you’re my brother”

“Err, yeah”

That was it, that’s how our conversation started. No fan fare, no trumpets heralding a new era, just two guys just kind of, you know, talking. I don’t remember much about that conversation either. I mainly remembered feelings though believe I do remember telling that I did describe myself to him as a geek, something to which I am quite proud of. Although later on, it appears he told me he was quite disappointed that I thought of myself like that but as he was not up with cyberchic and how it was enveloping the world at the time like a geek octopus with each of its eight arms extending out in a world dominationesque hold, that didn’t bother me. Though it would have been nice to be have been accepted as that.

We discussed a few things that night, the fact that he has children and I didn’t, our musical tastes (we seem to share the same tastes), the way we dress and other really trivial stuff.

We did organize to meet up that weekend in the City of Sydney; this would be three-hour trip for Frank and a two-hour trip for me. The distances and the times though do not tend to upset your average Sydneysider as we are quite used to it. I was traveling 5 hours a day to work and back on public transport.

What I did know was this was going to be an interesting weekend to say he least. I for one did not know how it was going to pan out. I had just agreed to meet someone I did not know from a bar of soap in the middle of the City not knowing what he looks like or what we will do once we met up. That is just, so me!

So what were my first impressions of him? I don’t know. He seemed quite cool on the phone but really, what does that tell you. His voice seemed a little like mine I suppose and we kind of spoke the same way. Was I reading too much into it? Yep, more than likely. But then again it isn’t everyday you speak to your brother for the very first time.

I dragged myself to work the next day and fielded a fair few questions from my work colleagues about the events that had transpired over the last two days. I kept being asked questions that I had no answer for and was also getting asked some really weird questions too. How on earth can I explain to them how I felt about all this? What I was going to do next? What is my mother like? It was starting to drive me crazy.

Thankfully work was very understanding and somehow expected me not to get too much work done and still had a few days to kill until my first meeting with my brother. Those days just seem to plod along and I didn’t really get too much done. Still had a lot of thinking time. What would I say when I seen him? This guy is my big bother! Wonder if he’s bigger than me? I wonder what his house looks like? Wow, he’s got kids, that makes me.. an uncle? Bugger! Never been an uncle before. I suppose it was then that the realization was starting to kick in. I’ve ever thought of myself as an uncle before. Uncles were always these old blokes that were at our barbies, got drunk and told rude jokes to me when I was growing up. Now I was one!!

I suppose the strangest incident to happen to me that week was an episode in a hairdresser’s. I had decided that if I was going to meet my brother for the first time, I really should have a haircut and at least make myself presentable. At the time I had short hair and used to keep it very neat. I had not had it cut for a few months so it was getting a bit tatty (read: not perfect). Whilst in the hairdressers I was being asked the customary questions:-

“Anything planned for the weekend, sir?”

“Well actually yeah, I’m meeting my brother for the very first time”

“Really? Your mum just had a new baby?”

“Er no, actually he’s two years older than me”

“How so? Is he a step brother?”

“No, a full brother, you see I’m adopted……” and so the story went.

In fact he was so taken back by events he actually called his wife out from out the back to come and have a listen to the story. I did think though that after I had entertained him and his wife for a good 20 minutes that they might have at least given me a discount on the hair cut. On this occasion, sadly I was out of luck.

The weekend approached fairly quickly. The last couple of days were a nervous wait for myself, as I honestly did not know what to expect. We had made arrangements to meet at Central Station and we advised each other what we would be wearing and our general appearance.

I think the question we both wanted answering was, “do we look alike?” Well we were about to find out. On Saturday morning Carmen and I made our way to Windsor train station for the two hour ride into Sydney. I kept telling my self that I wasn’t nervous and it was just like meeting a client. Carmen kept asking me if I was nervous also. “Naah not really” came my reply. As if I would be nervous!. I’m as cool as a cucumber most of the time so something like this wouldn’t bother me. I was forever in trouble in workplaces as a youngster because I was always impassive and thus thought of as not caring. I can tell you now that it is all a façade. I was packing it! I don’t think I have ever felt so nervous. It isn’t everyday you meet you older brother for the first time.

Eventually the train arrived at Central and we alighted from the train and made our way up to the concourse where you usually wait to meet people. Nerves, anticipation, fear, excitement, and uncertainty all these feeling were coursing through me about this time, as we were getting closer. Was I doing the right thing? Is he an axe murderer? How do I know? Will I like him? Will he like me? What ARE we going to do today? Neither of us gave that much thought. Guess we’ll just see where we end up.

“Is that him?” Carmen said

“Think so” How the hell would I know?

We made our way over to this person who resembled something of the way he described himself to me on the phone. Glasses, long hair and the WWF backpack. (Why oh why did he have to like wrestling I would laugh to myself)

Oh my god! He’s coming this way. I guess it is him! I think pleasant greetings ensued but did involve in Frank giving me a big bear hug. I’m a personal space person so that was a bit unnerving but hey, this doesn’t happen everyday and I suppose I could let this slide.

I don’t remember too much of what happened or where we went that day but I do know we went to Darling Harbor and to the Rocks where we had a beer in one of the Pubs down there.

Speaking to Frank at later date he did relay to me one snippet of that day. Apparently whilst we were mooching around Sydney I had grabbed Carmen over to come and have a look at something to which Frank was quite upset over as I had not included him in what ever it was I was showing Carmen. Through introspective thought though, he came to realize that I was probably just as nervous as he was about meeting me for the first time. This was a revelation to me as I thought I was the only nervous one. You see Frank had known about me since he was around 18 and they had been searching for me about 10 years. So Frank had all these expectations fears and romantic notions also. Something I had not given much thought of to other parties involved other than myself.

It turns out that we did look fairly similar, he was taller and thin like me, both have the same nose, shared similar interests and pretty much have the same mannerisms. It was and still is quite freaky to watch him and the way he acts and see a mirror image of me by the way that I act.

Even thinking about it now still puts me in mind of that discussion (read: argument) that I had with mum about me behaving more like my bio-family than I would them and my mum getting quite upset about it. It was always something that I believed but could not really do much to prove it. Now I fairly believe in behaviours being genetic. Now I am feeling sorry for children of criminals as they under my unifying theory of everything, they do not have much choice in wether or not the will become criminals, as it is genetic. But that is altogether another story and I am just wool gathering.

We wandered around some more and when it finally got late I asked him if he wanted to go back to my place and see where I lived and to my surprise he said yes. Well it wasn’t really surprising in fact it kind of felt natural, again, something I’ve both did and have, had done myself. I tend not to think twice about going to someone’s house I have only just met. Guess I’m a bit too trusting.

We finally got back to my house, Frank was introduced to Bill and we all went outside and sat around talking and consuming beer. We swapped stories and as the alcohol flowed the stories probably got taller and taller also. Not that we are in anyway known to embellish on our stories one little bit.

As stated before my memory of this day isn’t what you would call the best so I am merely going from fragmented memories of that day. But one memory that does stand out and amused me greatly was near the end of the night after we had all been sitting around and having a few drink in one of those ‘getting to know you’ sessions, we had started watching American Pie on a Hong Kong VCD that I had bought in Sydney’s Chinatown witch came complete with Cantonese subtitles and 2 CD’s. About half way through the first CD, Carmen and I retired to bed. Frank was to stay over at our house that night due to the distance and time it would take him to go home on public transport.

Thinking back, that was incredibly risky on both of our parts as we both did not know each other, but it worked out ok in the end.

Well, when I had got up it appears Frank had had a bit of a party by himself whilst we slept and had cleaned out all the alcohol that was in my fridge. Not that I really minded as it had been sitting there for months.

The most amusing part of the weekend to me was that he had watched the first part of American Pie 2 or 3 times as he didn’t know how to change the CD’s over in the DVD player. Doesn’t sound like much, but was probably the first thing we had ever really laughed about as brothers and as such it really stuck in my mind.

Later on in the morning Frank decided the time was right to start showing me photos that he had brought along with him. The first photo he showed me blew me away. I suppose it isn’t everyday you have in your hands a photo of your Bio-mum that you have never met before or seen before. And there she was in glorious colour for the whole world to see. Oh my god! That’s my Bio-mum! Now this was a life changing moment. All I could do was stare at this person looking back at me. How did I feel? I have no idea. How does one express feeling at this moment. I was amazed, scared, intrigued, worried, fascinated and nervous, you name it, I was probably it.

For close to twenty-seven years I had waited for this moment, a moment where I could gaze at a picture of my Bio-mum and see where I came from. Answer those questions like “where did I get that nose from?”. Now that it has finally happened it was strange, it was almost an anti climax. Looking at that photo had taken away from me some dreaming, wondering, mystique and romantic notions. I realised that from now on things were going to be very much different. Not only different for me but also for Carmen as this would also effect her in ways that I could not possibly imagine as yet. As you will see from reading the other chapters in this journey you will see how I am to deal with new information and conflicting emotions.

I had a really good time that weekend with Frank. We really seemed to get along and the more time I spent with him over the weeks and months before I moved to the other side of the continent I really felt that I was becoming close to him.

We took Frank out on Sunday morning to do a world tour of the great metropolis of Windsor, NSW. We pretty much spent the day taking in the Windsor’s Tourist Sight. Can’t remember for the life of me what it was but just the time wandering around the town with a full blood rellie made it all worthwhile.

Later on in the day after many photos were taken and Frank had to bid his goodbyes (another bear hug) and head back up to his home in Newcastle, a good 5 hour trip by train, we said our farewells and organised a meeting for Carmen and I to go up to Newcastle the next weekend. I was quite excited by this; I hadn’t been to Newcastle since I was born 27 years ago. I was looking forward to seeing some of the sights of the place. I wanted to see how they recovered from the Earthquake they had there in the early 90’s that had killed around 7 people in Australia’s worst ever earthquake, to see the Newcastle Knights Football Stadium and how the place was surviving after BHP, the main employer in the region had shut down. Oh, and I was to meet Bio-mum also.

[shiloblwe]

Thank you so much Darkman for continuing your story. You definately have a way with words! I definately think that the feelings of people adopted are universal, and I am so thankful you have been able to express them so well! Keep up the wonderful work! I look forward to reading more!

Erica

[Montraviatommyg]

I am so hooked .... if you ever wrote your autobiography and had it published I would buy it.

Pip

[darkman]

I honestly never expected to get this many replies. Espeicaly replies as nice as these. I'm doing this maily for myself, but if it helps others in someway to understand thier feelings, then fantastic!

I'm trying to get my feelings at different points in time down to how I felt about events as they were unfolding, do you think I may hav captured them right?

shiloblwe: You said feelings are universal, if you are an adoptee (soory, didn't read your profile) did yo pretty much have the same feelings?

[shiloblwe]

Darkman,

I seem to have very similar feeling as those you have expressed. The curiosity, the shock, the wonder...all of it. I have not yet been able to find my bio mom or any siblings I may have, but the similarities are still there. I was adopted into the most wonderufl family and have know that I was adopted from the time I can remember. There was never any animosity or negativity felt on my part. I was and am very happy and loved. However, I am very different that my family and they have made comments (lovingly of course) that I must get that from my bio family. I am the only blonde hair blue/green eyed person in my entire (and I mean all of them, extended as well) family. As much as I would love to beleive that nuture overrides nature, I am very different personality wise as well. I do beleive thatmany of my views and passions (such as love for family, art and music) were all instilled in me from my family. But I do think that other, less noticible traits have to come from somewhere else (i.e. I am very headstrong, the way I reason and deduct, and my overall mental approach to things).
I find it so wonderful that you are sharing your personal expereince. It help others (like me) step outside of our sittuation and view things from a different (albeit similar) peprspective. You have been able to touch on the seemingly minor (to outsiders) emotions and feelings that I thing we all feel.

Please, keep going, and do think about writing a book some day, I would also be waiting for it's release!

From one adoptee to another,

Erica

[randloar]

I would like to also say thanks for sharing your story, it has been great to read and you are putting to words what so many of us have felt over the years while we look at our history and try to figure out "who we are". I was adopted (along with my three other siblings, all from different families), and I grew up knowing I was adopted and having the same curiosities as you mentioned. I met my bio mom when I was 19, along with her family (including my half brother), and I met the entire family on my bio fathers side (he was dead) including my other half brother...... It is definately surreal to meet people that knew you when you were very little, and have feelings for you that you can't give back (until you get to know them). So, my point is that I can relate to much of what you have said, and you have worded it so well!!!

I do have one thing I would like to throw out there with respect to your statement about "Now I fairly believe in behaviours being genetic". I disagree with you on this, and feel that who we are is a combination of the two things, genetics and environment. If you and your bio brother were raised in similar settings (lifestyle etc), then of course there are going to be many similaries that are obvious. I can also argue that no one would have guessed that my brother and I weren't bio related, because we had so many similar characteristics......... and both my bio brothers are like night and day to me...........

My husband and his brother look like twins (2.5 years between them) but they are very different people and they come from the same parents. I realize that this arguement can work either way, but it also goes to show that genetics isn't necessarily everything. Just pointing out that we are complex beings, and to say that it is one or the other exclusively is not really accurate or fair (since there is evidence to the otherwise), and the genetics appear to set the stage for what we have the capacity to become, then our environment helps us get there!!! I had so many images of what my bio family would be like before I met them, and definately thought meeting them would answer some of those questions on the things where I also different from my family, and there were some answers but on other things, it came down to "this is just who I am, irrelevant of my genes or environment", a little disappointing, but true.

I am definately not trying to pick a fight, but had to throw out another viewpoint!!

Please continue to share your story, it has been fun to read and does remind me of some of the thoughts and questions that I had before I met my bio family as well!

[darkman]

My Bio-mum who is currently staying with us had a heart attack last night and is in hospital.

The scarey thing is, I don't know how I feel about it. I find that i'm going into damage control mode in trying to not get blamed for it from my Bio-Family than I am worrying how she is?

I can't help but feel that as I am not as close as Bio-mum she would like me to be, that I have somehow contributed to this.

Is this a normal reaction?