Home
When I was a little girl, my mother would read to me every night before I went to sleep and one of our favorite children's storytellers was Dr. Seuss. We owned every one of his silly, lyrical, nonsensical, but wonderfully wise books- from Green Eggs and Ham to One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. There is one story that was never quite as funny as the others. It is the story of a little bird who fell out of her nest, got lost and frightened and started asking everyone (and everything) she saw the same question. Over and over she asked the question. As a matter of fact, the title of the book is the question.
The question she asked is the question I have asked in some form every day of my life for as long as I can remember. The question is, "Are you my mother?"
Concrete Experience
I am adopted. My parents brought me to their Grand Rapids, Michigan, white, picket fence, house in 1958. They had picked me up from Bethany Christian Home. I was six months old.
The first six months of my life I had been in a foster home. Michigan State law required that there be a waiting period prior to any consideration of adoption. The law also required that my parents wait yet another year until the adoption was finalized. During that time I lived with them and had constant visits from a social worker to ensure the match between parent and child would be a good one.
Not only did the State require a waiting period; so did the church. I was baptized when I was one and a half years old because the church did not baptize adopted infants until all the paper work was finalized with the court. So, on the Sunday morning of my baptism, unlike the other families who carried their offspring in white lace blankets and silky gowns; I walked down the aisle to the baptism font in a pretty yellow dress - holding my parent's hands.
My parents have always told me that I was adopted. They did not keep any secrets from me about how, when, and why I became part of their family. They have always felt secure enough in their roles as my parents to understand and support my need to know about my background. I believe that had my parents known anything about my birth family they would have given me that information with the same amount of confidence they displayed in telling me about being adopted.
Others, however, are not as open as my parents. The State of Michigan is holding my secret. Bethany Home is holding my secret, and my birth mother is holding my secret. A "closed" adoption is very secretive. The word "closed" and the silence attached to it will affect the attitudes and behaviors of the adoptee.
It has been my experience that when people find out I am adopted they all ask the same questions. I supply answers that I am now so accustomed to giving. What follows is a sampling of the typical conversation.
These are the typical questions asked and my usual responses to those questions. The words, phrases and expressions about adoption play a significant role in how the adopted child develops their self-perception. Many of the words used in the typical questions listed above have negative connotations. Society places a stigma on adoption and this stigma slowly and quietly erodes the self-esteem of adoptees.
When an adopted child reaches the age of 18 most states, including Michigan, allow them to obtain "non-identifying" information about their birth parents. My file contains whatever information was collected from the time my birth mother contacted Bethany until the final adoption date. There has been no further contact to or from my birth mother. This means that the file is lacking a family medical history. I have no way of knowing what diseases or conditions I may have inherited. I have no way of knowing what precautions I may need to take to stay healthy.
I requested and received the non-identifying information from my file. Below is a summary of the statistics that Bethany Home forwarded to me in 1991 about my birth mother, birth father and their families.
"As far as was known at the time of Cathy's birth, both parents were healthy, as were their families."
In 1992, I utilized Bethany Home's intermediary service. They were unsuccessful in their attempts to contact my birth mother. They did obtain information on my birth father. What they discovered was his death certificate from 1960. I was only three years old when he died. I was given a copy of the death certificate. At least now I know what his name was - Donald Charles Bush. I know its not much information; but, what the information did for me is tremendous. I finally had some sense of resolution in the search for my identity. I received some peace of mind and that helped me learn to forgive and start the healing process.
Observations and Reflections
I am adopted. Because I am adopted I ask questions like, "Are you my mother?"
When I see a woman who looks as if she could be my mother's age I wonder if she is my birth mother. We may have brushed past each other on the street and neither of us realized how closely we are connected. I wonder about brothers and sisters that might exist somewhere. I wonder if my birth mother regrets her decision. I wonder if she does not think of me at all. I wonder why she will not respond to any inquiries from the adoption agency. I wonder, I wonder, I wonder...Will I ever be able to stop wondering.
I have always had a curiosity about the behavior of adopted children. I've met other adoptees who, like me, were troubled teenagers and adults. I've seen television programs and read articles about troubled, adopted teens. Why are adopted children so often rebellious, outspoken, angry and troublemakers? Why are they so contradictory in actions and feelings? Why do they try so hard to please others and at the same time do things to hurt those closest to them? Why do they battle against conformity yet fear abandonment?
Why do we act the way we do? Why do we have unique relationship problems with the opposite sex? Why is our self esteem so low? I have looked for and have found some answers to my questions by searching for my birth parents identity. In looking back at what resources I used to aid my discoveries I thought of many; however, the major sources were:
When did I realize that being adopted affected my behavior?
The first incident I can remember occurred when I was in second grade. I was angry with my mother over something. I can still smell the mothball odor in the wool mittens I put on my hands. I can still see the snow falling as my little brothers and I march out of the house and down the porch steps. I can still remember the evil tone in my voice as I tell my mother that I am taking my little brothers with me to find our "real mothers."
I feel like crying for her when I think of how these words seared into her heart. What a horrible, mean thing to say to the woman that fed me, clothed me, cared for me, and loved me. Her response, however, was to pack us some lunches, make sure we were bundled up and told us to be careful. This was the first evidence of my need to search and her willingness to accept my need for identity.
Years later, as a teenager I was still frustrated and feeling lost. I was angry, rebellious, depressed, and self destructive. I did many things to hurt the people closest to me-especially my family. I became involved with the wildest group in high school. I had terrible arguments with my father in which I screamed horrible, angry curses at him. These fights were so verbally violent that I can not remember them today. I disregarded everything decent that my parents had taught me. So it appeared by my words and actions. This angry self-destructive behavior was a symptom of my adoption.
What I realize now is that as a teenager I did not fully comprehend the inner feelings and needs that were in conflict with my actions. My inner feelings consisted of guilt, shame, and remorse for the things I was doing to hurt the ones I loved. I know now that I was hurting them to see how far I could push them before they would abandon me.
When I was 21, I met with a Social Worker at Bethany Home to obtain any information they would give me. I had this dream that I would arrive for my meeting and my mother would be there with open arms. I would run to her and hug her and tell her that I forgive her, that I had great parents that loved me intensely, and that she made the right choice. After my speech, my birth parents, my parents and I, would live in harmony forever after. As I said, it was a dream.
The meeting with the agency was not like my dream. Instead, I discovered that my birth parents identifying information is a secret that can not be shared by State Law. "The State must protect the birth parents," is what the Social Worker told me that day. My records are sealed and neither of my birth parents had submitted a release of information.
I sat across the desk from a woman with my file. That file contained the information I longed to possess. When I remember that day and realize how close I was to the information I long for; I wish that I had grabbed the file out of her hands. Instead, I asked for a piece of paper to write down the small amount of information I was allowed to have, the "non-identifying" information.
The next time I decided to try and find my birth parents was in 1991 when I contacted Bethany Home, again. I was assigned another Social Worker. She offered their intermediary services, which I accepted. This type of service had recently been approved in the State of Michigan and Bethany was set up to perform the service.
The Intermediary service cost is $250. For that price they offer the following services:
My Social Worker tried to contact my birth mother. She did not respond to a letter sent to her by my Social Worker through the Social Security Office or to answering machine messages left discreetly by the Social Worker. I do not know where or how the letter was sent or where messages were left for her. That is another secret kept from me and one of the frustrating aspects to the intermediary service.
Ever since I can remember, I have had an intense desire to be accepted. The thought that I may not be liked will destroy any confidence I have in a situation. This obsession is very overpowering. In the past, I have compromised my own needs to please other people in the hope that my actions will be considered worthy enough for their acceptance. Acceptance means I belong and if I belong I will not be alone. The need to be accepted and the fear of abandonment are feelings that are intensified because of the adoption.
I have some close friends that are also adoptees. We have talked about our experiences, attitudes and frustrations about adoption. During one of our discussions, we determined that since each of us struggles with the desire to be accepted and the fear of abandonment, there must be a correlation to adoption. We talked about the things we have done to keep insane relationships together. For instance, we each recalled times when we would change our behaviors drastically and detrimentally to meet our mates expectations of what we should be. Ever since that night of sharing, we call ourselves the "Chameleons." The chameleon changes its color to match its surroundings. The adoptee changes behavior to match their surroundings and obtain the acceptance so desperately needed.
Formation of Abstract Concepts and Generalizations:
There are many childhood experiences that affect the behavior of the adult. The interactions between parent and child, siblings and friends, and teachers influence the character of the adult. How one person will handle certain situations and respond to different stimuli will depend on both conscious and sub-conscious experiences.
Childhood adoption is a life experience that intensely affects the behavior of the adult adoptee. I have learned in my life that there are three main elements that contribute to the adoptee's behavior and specifically the feelings of insecurity, low self-esteem, and the need to be accepted.
The three elements are:
"Damaging Words" are the terms used by society when talking about adoption. In the questions and answers given earlier there are some examples of these terms; "give you up," "after having you," "you don't look like…," "didn't want you," "are you normal?"
Adopted children have been conditioned to think differently about themselves. We have been told we were "chosen." To be chosen is to be acted upon or to be passive. Or better yet it is not to choose on the part of the adoptee. Many adoptees (including myself) say that the stories of how we were "chosen" make us feel twice rejected; by the birth parents who did not keep us, and by the adoptive parents who could not have a baby of their own. Being chosen also means being second best.
Words like "natural" and "real" mother/father (birth parent) add even more confusion to the adoptee. Why is the woman that gave birth to me more "real" than my Mother (the woman who raised me and I call Mom)? Is the man that donated his sperm more natural than my Father (the man who raised me and I call Dad)? My real parents are the only parents I know and therefore ARE real parent. They also display an unconditional love for me which makes them natural parents. If anything, the adoptive parents should be referred to as "natural" and "real" parents. This confusion in terms makes the adoptee feel like they are being raised by some unnatural source. Words have a strong effect on how we view the world as well as ourselves. When adoptees hear words that have double meanings their self doubt and shame about their adoption increases.
Adoptees are told we are "special." This makes the adoptee believe they must be perfect in order to retain the love and acceptance of their family and friends. This need to be special can put a great deal of pressure on adoptees to live up to some perceived expectations, many of which are unattainable. The adoptee learns early in life to feel inadequate and worthless. The need to be perfect for the parents that "rescued" them forces the adoptee to suppress their own identity and concentrate on the needs and wishes of the parents. The adoptee feels they will abandoned if they are not good. This suppression of identity and need to be perfect are carried into adulthood. As adults, adoptees continue this obsessive behavior of pleasing others to find the acceptance adoptees believe is needed for their survival.
"Secret Information" is the secrecy surrounding adoption in our society. There are different levels of secrecy depending on the year and state where the adoption occurred. In Michigan, a child adopted prior to 1980, the law states that in order to receive the name of a birth parent that parent must file a consent form with the State, or the birth parent must be deceased. This means that two things to me: first, I am allowed to have my birth father's information since he is deceased, and secondly, I can not learn any of the secrets held about my mother until her death because she has not filed a release.
However, a child adopted after 1980 in the State of Michigan is allowed to have the names of the birth parents when he/she turns 18 years of age. The only way the birth parent(s) can prohibit the release of information is to file a Denial of Information form with the State Records.
The adoption information movement is constantly lobbying to have changes made in the laws regarding the adoption secrets. I can only hope that the laws are modified before my birth mother's death so that I have a chance to tell her that I am okay and that I forgive her for her decision to keep my heritage and my birth a secret.
Adopted children never hear of how they kicked in their mother's stomach, or what the birth process was like. Adoptees have no confirmation of how we came into the world. This consciousness makes the adopted child different from other people. I always felt like an outsider when friends would talk about their birth stories. They would know every detail of their birth because their parents had told the story so many times. Their stories consisted of dramatics like the last minute dash to the hospital, or the three days of labor, or the birth in the taxi. As an adoptee, I have struggled with the feeling of non-existence because I don't know how I was born. I have never heard how I came into this world.
"Severed Ties" are the bonds that are broken when the child and birth mother are separated. I believe that this element contributes the most in the damage to the adoptee's psyche. The damage is done by the severing of the mother-child bond. This bond is formed deep in the "being" of each of us. The bond begins its formation nine months before birth. Then, for the next nine months, we depend on the "host" body to keep us alive. What she eats, the fetus eats. What she drinks, the fetus drinks. The fetus hears her voice for 270 days! The fetus sleeps to the thrumming of the mother's heart and the whoosh of the blood flowing through her veins and arteries. Just like the soothing sound of a babbling brook when we are going to sleep on a camp out, so it is the sounds inside the womb to the fetus. What we don't know is if the fetus somehow shares the mother's thoughts. I think in some manner they must.
I saw a special on adoption and the one segment I recall was about a mother turning her child over to another woman to raise. The baby was born and after the birth, the birth mother spent time with the newborn child. She spoke to the baby and told her what was to happen in the near future. As soon as the mother said that another woman would be the tiny baby's mother the cooing stopped. The infant began to shriek. The more the mother spoke the harder the child screamed.
I sat on the couch, tears streaking down my face, and I could only repeat over and over "she knows, she knows, she knows…" I had a pain deep within me-in a place I never felt pain before. At that moment, I knew, I knew, I knew… I felt the pain of being wrenched away from the only comfort and source of life I had known. I felt the fear of being abandoned and alone. I felt the terror of the unknown future in an unknown world. I felt the cold, I felt alone, I felt feelings I never let come through before. These feelings were so intense that words can not describe them. The only words I can write to try and express myself are "I knew…"
Active Experimentation:
This experience in front of the television became a pivotal point in my life. It was the exclamation point at the end of a sentence not the final chapter of a book. My discovery did not start or end with the experience of that night. However, I think my search for self understanding was made clear for the first time. I think I was thankful for knowing the answer to the question; "Are you my father?" I think I found some way of coping without an answer to my first question; "Are you my Mother?" At least for right now I am content with my life and my being.
What I learned, so far, from this continuing search is about my feelings, where they stem from, and how my behavior is affected. During the last year I have had to take a close look at my insecurities in other areas. I need to apply some of the same tenacity as I did in my search for my birth information to the cause and cure of these self-doubts.
One of the areas that I would like to improve in is my tendency to blame myself when my employees do not perform to standard. I first get angry at them. Luckily, I have taught myself over the years to hold my temper until I am thinking clearly. During this cool off period I think about the situation. I notice that I feel somehow responsible for their failures. I think that I have not given them proper training or tools to do their jobs. What I must remember is that my whole life I have tried to make others happy and taking responsibility for their actions is another way of trying to make them happy and obtaining their approval. I know this sounds irrational - I guess that is what any kind of psychosis is - irrationality. However, my awareness of this behavior is a step in the right direction.
I am continuing to learn more about myself, about maturing as a manager, and about being a successful leader through these classes at APU. I have set a goal for myself that I hope to reach when I finish this program. My goal is to have found a new understanding of my insecurities and how to overcome the self-doubt that stems from them. I think that throughout this curriculum there are opportunities for self discovery that will definitely be to my benefit. I also know that I have a strong support group to help me over the rough areas. That support group is my family and their trust, love and encouragement that is always there to tell me I'm better than I give myself credit for being.
Comprehending how my adoption made me feel different, lowered my self-esteem, and affected my relationships with others lead me to a new maturity. I have learned that I have many companions in this world that share my fears and feelings. I am not alone.
I am still learning that I am valuable, talented, and good. I still fight self- doubt; but, I win more than lose these days. I know where I have been in my life. I am proud of my past; but, even prouder of the direction I am taking myself in the future.
I may never know the woman or meet the man, Donald Charles Bush, who together gave me life; but, I do know a wonderful man and two incredible women that gave me A Life - they are my real and natural, loving Dad, my natural and real accepting Mom, and the strong, survivor - me.
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