Whiteout

A while back, my Mum gave me a packet of documents. "Here's your adoption paperwork. They gave us the originals instead of the copies by mistake. I noticed the whiteout is flaking off. You can read your last name."

Mum and Dad were clearing a lot of stuff out of the house. We had a lot of life going on here. Moving, new jobs, another kid on the way... There was a lot going on. But I looked. And yes, there was the name. I put the papers away. There was a lot going on. I wasn't completely ready to do anything about it. It required energy. And emotional space. And I just didn't have any.

I had taken baby steps over the years to find my birth mom. I had a counseling session with an adoption specialist; this is a prerequisite for many match services and registries. I looked online to figure out which registries I might be on. It didn't seem very straightforward. And it wasn't free, either. It seemed like a big undertaking. It was scary. So it didn't go very far.

But the internet goes everywhere. With a name, a city, and some search engines, you can find out a lot. Add social media, and the path becomes much more clear. 

And finally, one day, I had the energy and need to take the leap. I sent out a letter. And the letter found its intended target. 

So what now? I'm not sure where it will go.

But I got to say thanks. My birth mother chose life. I'm grateful. My husband is grateful. My parents are grateful. My children would be, if they knew how common the other choice is. And I daresay my friends are happy with the decision she made. My patients, too... Choices like that have quite a ripple effect. The results are bigger than the decision-maker can ever know.

And the choice to put the original medical record, the one with the whiteout over my birth name, instead of the copy, into the packet of adoption paperwork? That choice has had a ripple effect, too.