Amanda, an African American girl, was adopted by a Caucasian family in New York in 1984 because her parents wanted to become parents.
Towards the end of January 1984, my mother received a phone call from the attorney while she was at work advising her that a baby girl was born, and she was going to be a mother.
My mother was so overjoyed that she literally screamed at the top of her lungs, ‘I’m going to be a mother!’ Everyone knew how great she would be at motherhood and they shared her pleasure. My mother and my father were so excited to meet the new member of their family, they couldn’t wait to become parents.
My parents made their way to the hospital to bring me pick me up but unfortunately there was a delay. The social worker from the hospital did not think the adoption was a good idea because of the racial difference. My parents were determined to bring me home with them that day so they waited for hours until the adoption was finalized and my birth mother made up her decision.
I grew up in a loving white family but struggled with my identity and wanted to find my birth mother.
At the time I began searching for my birth mom I was 15 going on 16. My mother did remember my birth mother’s name and knew where I was born, so it was just a matter of finding her. We contacted a few agencies who helped long lost loved ones find each other. Woefully, my birth mother had a common name and we got back pages and pages of results. We decided to narrow the list down and reach out to all the women who were living in the state of New York.
We just assumed she may still live in state. My mother went to the local post office and purchased a PO box so we could use it for the return address. She did all the work of writing the letters and mailing them one by one to every lady with my birth mother’s name who lived in New York. In the letter she stated she was looking for a woman who lived in the Bronx, NY in 1984. We received many responses but not from my birth mother. I was still hopeful that we would eventually find her.
I finally met my mother and sister and we were warmly welcomed making the long awaited reunion emotional and unforgettable.
Over the years after meeting my birth mother, we struggled with building a firm relationship. Our relationship was pretty good at times and then we would go months even years without talking to each other. She was constantly in and out of my life. The relationship with my sister was the same,
My grandmother, who is her mother, has always remained supportive and in my life along with my aunts and my cousins. I never really understood why I had good relationships with the rest of my family but my sister and mother where a whole different story. My birth mother and I were really close at one point, but our relationship lacked stability. We have attempted to establish a better relationship numerous times over the last 20 plus years, but it never worked out.
The relationship with my birth mother made me feel like I did when I was younger, when I just wanted to be accepted. I still don’t know to this day the real reason why she gave me up for adoption. I asked, but was never given a direct answer, the subject was always changed or redirected. I spent years in and out of therapy trying to make sense of all that occurred. Trying to find meaning, trying to find my purpose. I just wanted to understand why my mother wouldn’t accept me for me.
After years of pain and searching for acceptance, I finally chose to love myself, heal and live my live with confidence and no regrets.
