When I first started receiving information about my birth mother and family, I felt as though my brain was being rewired and shuffled about. Over the years, I've created a narrative that allowed me to come to terms with being adopted and answer the inevitable questions that arise on occasion. I never felt emotionally distraught about being adopted, but as I tried to wrap my mind around this monumental uncertainty, I found creating a private narrative was a great coping mechanism. That narrative has fizzled over the last week and I now know the truth.
I don't feel guilty as though I've done anything wrong. After all, I had no say in the decision. But I feel genuine remorse for the pain she and her family went through. I've learned it changed them for life. I feel this for them as I would for any family faced with such a difficult decision. But, I wouldn't change the outcome. I was given a great gift--a loving family who could provide me what I needed to live and be happy. And while I've always known I was lucky, I don't think I really grasped the essence of that happiness until this past week.
When I was young I rationalized I ended up in the Hollst household because that's where God wanted me. Part of my coping mechanism as a child was believing my birth mother was nothing more than a mere vessel to deliver me to my mom and dad. That notion left me long ago and now that I know the truth I was a fool for ever thinking it in the first place. Perhaps, that's where some of my guilt rests. I'm only now learning about her and every day it's something new and fantastic, but I can promise you she was more than an incubator. She was a blessing. And along with her nose, cheek bones, smile, and love of singing and writing, I inherited some of her blessings. And I've been able to share them with the people I love and care about. But for her, I would not be.
Another remarkable aspect of this past week is I've learned the identity of my birth father. I don't know much about him yet. He has a Facebook page and I've reviewed what I could. Including a video of woman's bouncing breasts--a few times (I'm sure a friend posted it to his page). I, too, am bouncing around a bit on how to handle this potential reunion. Part of me questions his actions 45 years ago, while another seems willing to forgive him for wringing his hands of the situation. Truth is, I don't know this part of the story completely. There's some questions that need to be answered, so for now I think I'm going to sit on what I know. But not too long. I don't want to regret missing a window of opportunity.
I am looking forward to meeting my birth family. Through a coincidence of timing, they are coming to Ohio next month to visit family and friends in Darke County. From my newly found uncle's correspondence, my existence was no secret and after a few years was eventually spoken about openly. Apparently there is a family tree with a missing
