The end of my search came on the day I received a cold factual statement telling me my mother had already died. I had no warning that the next update from my searcher would contain such stark words. I do remember eagerly opening that email expecting to hear that either she couldn’t find her yet and was working on other avenues, or that she had found her. I wasn’t expecting she had already passed. She wasn’t that old. I never expected that at her age she would already be gone. That my mother had already passed away from the same event I had just experienced.
I don’t know how to grieve the loss of my mother. How to let my dreams go. How to make peace within my soul of never getting to meet my mother.
This is the ending of the story of how adoption “benefited” me. My story isn’t all negative and has many positives. I can’t do any type of “what if” scenario about if I had never been adopted, because it has already happened and you can’t go back and wipe away what was. It doesn’t work that way. I do believe reunion allows you to combine your two lives and find peace, and provides an opportunity to regain a relationship that was lost.
When you weigh the good and the bad, I don’t think the scales are tipped in favor of adoption being the better option when there are no concerns over safety. There was no reason for my adoption except for the pervasive religious fervor and ideology of the day – conveniently combined with the rising rates of infertility. I am scared for the future as I see that same misguided thought process raising up again, and the infertility rates even worse. I am scared by the promotion of adoption as the superior option over parenting for unplanned pregnancies. I am scared for women like my mother and for their children like me. They won’t have a choice either.