Whose Dirty Little Secret Am I?

Labored out

and hidden away.

Kept quiet,

the truth of disgrace.

The shame of shame.

$2,000 Mother

 I was more than willing to pay to know her, to know myself at the core.

On a quest, I was more than willing to pay to know her, to know myself at the core. After my birth daughter found me in the adoption registry (as I’d hoped), I was compelled to complete the circle. I was more than willing to pay to know her, to know myself. Late 2000… the adoptionThe detective said she could solve the riddle, and of my mother at birth within a couple months.  in a flash, tMerely 2 grand and wo2 weeks later, I suddenly had a mother. I had expected a long wait, not a premature birth.  in name (and a sister! alas, Kim was a brother, 14 years younger). This roller coaster dropped my stomach from on high. I was expecting a long wait, not a premature birth.

“We sometimes bend the law, but you didn’t hear me say that.” The money-driven network of clerks may sway protocols, thread information in sympathy with adoptees, and the romance of reunions.

 When I asked my PI how she found her, she replied “you don’t want to know, just let it be that we sometimes bend the law, but you didn’t hear me say that.”

Apparently, there is a money-driven network of clerks who are willing to bend and sway protocols, thread information in sympathy with adoptees. Worth the risk of knowing and the romance of reunions.

 There is the fact of my birth - did that make her my mother - my “real” mother? Clearly, the one who raised me was more real than this rumored idea of a mother. This whole notion of searching for her was inspired by the adoption reunion advocates I had met in the last year. After my birth daughter found me in the adoption registry as I’d hoped, I was compelled to complete the circle of myself.

 Who knew there was such a thing as an adoption detective? I got the name and number of a highly skilled woman who claimed a 95-99% success rate. Just hearing her the PI claim say with such confidence that she could surely easily find my birth mothersomeone who should have been the most important person in the world to me, easily was hair-raising terrifying…  created someone I never knew who should have been the most important person in the world, a schism the my mind and emotions can’t couldn’t integrate.

 It would be easy to accomplish, snap, I simply would givegave my birth date and place, . Being from a small city, made it easier helped a lot. Had Sally remained in Puerto Rico, I’d never have found her.

 I had to wriggle myself free of the knot/noose I‘d been cocooned in for so long. [cut:  Already implied in first sentence]Most likely I was another accidental birth from an incidental passion. I just wanted to learn how and who- to see and know her, maybe to forgive us both as teenagers.

Though clearly, the one who raised me was more real than this rumored idea of a mother, This was my big choice, I needed to find the woman who brought me into the world, probably more than she needed to find me. The knot I carried I had to wriggle myself free of the knot/noose I‘d been cocooned in for so long. It had become a strangle-hold that followed me in every way. Most likely I was another accidental birth from an incidental passion (usually the male’s). I just wanted to learn how and who… to see and know her, maybe to forgive us both as teenagers.

 But she wasn’t even in the registry system, wow, I wasn’t on her radar! Had she just wanted to forget the whole thing? by contrast, I could barely wait, (as petrified as I was) to meet MY birth daughter. Later I learned my birth mother thought it best to leave well enough alone, don’t intrude, like she had no rights.

She let me go, gone from sight -- and heart?  But what about curiosity? What about explaining, or the gift of genetics, ancestry and family. But she thought it best to leave well enough alone. Forgot my birthday anyway. Same with her relinquished son, 2 years later. Just forgot. It’s called birth amnesia, a trauma response - pretending you didn’t just give away your very own child.? Worth the risk of knowing.