National Blog Posting Month
Surprise!
'There's something I have to tell you,' said the email from my Dad. 'Something about my past.'
My mind raced. What was he talking about? Did he have HIV? A criminal record? I emailed him back straight away to ask what the hell was going on. In response, he forwarded me an email.
'Dear Roger,
I don't know how to tell you this, so I guess I'll just jump right in and say it. I have been told that you are my biological father.'
The letter went on to explain that the writer, Erika, had been given up for adoption shortly after her birth in September, 1971. Her childhood had been a happy one. She was grown up now, and had two children of her own, with a third on the way. Her second son had been born with a hole in his heart and that had made her want to learn more about her genes and where she came from. She had already been in contact with her biological mother, who had told her a bit about my Dad. Apparently, Erika's mother had never told my father of her pregnancy. Erika's email was a brave step. It was sensitive and thoughtful in tone. She didn't seem like a stalker, or a needy desperado. She was just looking for answers.
Ripples went through our family when Dad told us. Mum and Dad were married in 1976 and divorced in 2001, eighteen months before this letter arrived, so there was no question of any infidelity. Nonetheless, Mum was very upset by the whole thing. 'It's just typical,' she said, as though Dad had done it on purpose. 'It always has to be about him.'
My elder brother was his usual stand-offish self. He had just had a baby daughter a few months earlier, so he kind of had his own stuff going on.
Our middle sister, G, was shocked, outraged. She tends to be the most conservative of us, the most resistant to change. 'She can't be our sister,' she insisted. 'She looks nothing like us.' I burst out laughing. Why don't you be the judge?
Is anyone still in any doubt? Thought not.
Our little sister was cautiously optimistic. L is a real sweetheart, and so laid back she is almost comatose. 'Wow!' she said, and went on with being delightful.
Dad took the tactless approach. 'Are you sure it was me? I seem to remember that she dumped me for my roommate Jim.' Dad's special trick is to cc everybody else in the western world into his emails, so I received this email he sent and cringed for poor Erika. I felt compelled to write her a letter, thanking her for her sensitive handling of the issue, applauding her bravery, sharing a few photos and stories. I thought she seemed really sweet. Anyway, I love a good story, and this seemed like one in the making.
Dad proposed that they get a DNA test done, but it seemed that this was going to cost $US1000 per person, which they both thought was too much. Using the great power of the internet, they found somewhere they could get it done much more cheaply.
And so we waited for the outcome.
'Based on the results of this test, it appears 99.999999996% likely that this is the biological daughter of Roger.'
Our reactions were varied. I indulged in a great bout of, 'Well, I wouldn't like to say I told you so, But I Told You So.' This is my regular standpoint, and one which is no doubt very endearing to my friends and family.
In one of those cosmic coincidences, after my parents' divorce, Dad had moved back to the Bay Area in California, where he grew up. Erika lived only a half hour's drive from where he now lived. They met up, made friends and have had a good relationship ever since.
G was heading off overseas, and a circuitous route eventually took her to San Francisco, where she ended up staying for several weeks at Erika's house. They became great friends. Mum was so touched by Erika taking G in when she was hitchhiking and penniless that she came around, and decided Erika was a lovely person who was just unfortunate to share DNA with my Dad. L and my brother are yet to meet her, but write her emails from time to time. L is now big enough to go off on her own journey around the world, so the reunion will come pretty soon.
What seemed like a shock at first has been a wonderful addition to our family. I hope other reunions between adoptive children and their biological families are as happy.
And in an indirect way, Erika has inspired lots of this website. When I am posting, I imagine how I would write a letter to her, telling her all my news.
What's the most dramatic thing that's ever happened to your family?
My mind raced. What was he talking about? Did he have HIV? A criminal record? I emailed him back straight away to ask what the hell was going on. In response, he forwarded me an email.
'Dear Roger,
I don't know how to tell you this, so I guess I'll just jump right in and say it. I have been told that you are my biological father.'
The letter went on to explain that the writer, Erika, had been given up for adoption shortly after her birth in September, 1971. Her childhood had been a happy one. She was grown up now, and had two children of her own, with a third on the way. Her second son had been born with a hole in his heart and that had made her want to learn more about her genes and where she came from. She had already been in contact with her biological mother, who had told her a bit about my Dad. Apparently, Erika's mother had never told my father of her pregnancy. Erika's email was a brave step. It was sensitive and thoughtful in tone. She didn't seem like a stalker, or a needy desperado. She was just looking for answers.
Ripples went through our family when Dad told us. Mum and Dad were married in 1976 and divorced in 2001, eighteen months before this letter arrived, so there was no question of any infidelity. Nonetheless, Mum was very upset by the whole thing. 'It's just typical,' she said, as though Dad had done it on purpose. 'It always has to be about him.'
My elder brother was his usual stand-offish self. He had just had a baby daughter a few months earlier, so he kind of had his own stuff going on.
Our middle sister, G, was shocked, outraged. She tends to be the most conservative of us, the most resistant to change. 'She can't be our sister,' she insisted. 'She looks nothing like us.' I burst out laughing. Why don't you be the judge?
Is anyone still in any doubt? Thought not.
Our little sister was cautiously optimistic. L is a real sweetheart, and so laid back she is almost comatose. 'Wow!' she said, and went on with being delightful.
Dad took the tactless approach. 'Are you sure it was me? I seem to remember that she dumped me for my roommate Jim.' Dad's special trick is to cc everybody else in the western world into his emails, so I received this email he sent and cringed for poor Erika. I felt compelled to write her a letter, thanking her for her sensitive handling of the issue, applauding her bravery, sharing a few photos and stories. I thought she seemed really sweet. Anyway, I love a good story, and this seemed like one in the making.
Dad proposed that they get a DNA test done, but it seemed that this was going to cost $US1000 per person, which they both thought was too much. Using the great power of the internet, they found somewhere they could get it done much more cheaply.
And so we waited for the outcome.
'Based on the results of this test, it appears 99.999999996% likely that this is the biological daughter of Roger.'
Our reactions were varied. I indulged in a great bout of, 'Well, I wouldn't like to say I told you so, But I Told You So.' This is my regular standpoint, and one which is no doubt very endearing to my friends and family.
In one of those cosmic coincidences, after my parents' divorce, Dad had moved back to the Bay Area in California, where he grew up. Erika lived only a half hour's drive from where he now lived. They met up, made friends and have had a good relationship ever since.
G was heading off overseas, and a circuitous route eventually took her to San Francisco, where she ended up staying for several weeks at Erika's house. They became great friends. Mum was so touched by Erika taking G in when she was hitchhiking and penniless that she came around, and decided Erika was a lovely person who was just unfortunate to share DNA with my Dad. L and my brother are yet to meet her, but write her emails from time to time. L is now big enough to go off on her own journey around the world, so the reunion will come pretty soon.
What seemed like a shock at first has been a wonderful addition to our family. I hope other reunions between adoptive children and their biological families are as happy.
And in an indirect way, Erika has inspired lots of this website. When I am posting, I imagine how I would write a letter to her, telling her all my news.
What's the most dramatic thing that's ever happened to your family?
3 Comments
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Comment by fringes & Q on December 5, 2007 at 1:22pm -
What a wonderful and, yes, dramatic story. I am very glad things worked out so well. Erika looks very much like you and your other sisters. How awesome.
Thanks for sharing this!
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But I did want to recount for you a reunion between adoptive children and biological families that also has been very happy.
My closest aunt and uncle were unable to have children of their own naturally, which is how I became so close to them. Being the oldest of three 'in a row' kids my aunt and uncle half raised me to give my mom and dad a break! When I was 11, and after being on the waiting list for six years, they were finally able to adopt their own child. A little boy they named James. All they knew about his biological parents were that they were teenagers, were good students and had plans for their future, ones that at that time didn't involve raising an infant.
James always knew he was adopted. He was saying that long before he knew what it meant. They were always very open about it. As he got older he would talk about looking for his birth mom when he was 19 (the legal age here), and his parents fully supported him.
When he turned 19 his mom brought him the necessary legal papers he'd need to fill out to begin the process of finding his birth mother. But being a young adult who was now living away from home, and could legally buy alcohol and get into bars, well he had other things on his mind.
A few weeks later a letter arrived for him at my aunts. It was from his birth mother.
She had always intended to try to find him when he was old enough. She had thought that age was 18. On his 18th birthday she went to the government records department to access the file, only to be told she had to wait another year.
Well, we all live in a very small place. An island half the size of New Zealand with less than a half a million people. With lots of small communities scattered all around. It really wasn't that hard for his biological mom to find him.
At the time she contacted him she was pregnant for just the second time in her life - obviously he was the first. It was really important to her to connect with him and especially more so now that she was pregnant again and recounting all her memories and experiences of being pregnant for the first time - but enjoying it more this time!
Anyway, it's been just over a year now that they have been reconnected and things are going great. They all see each other every month or two at least, and even the moms have bonded and spent time (willingly!) together without him or other family.
And he loves it. He's always talking about 'my two moms' this and 'my two moms' that. I recently asked him how he felt about not connecting with his birth father (he had no interest once told of his location by the birth mom) he said that he didn't have any interest. Thinking this might be a young man's defense mechanism I prodded more and he said "No, I really never had any interest in meeting him. Whenever I thought about where I came from and dreamed of a reunion one day, I always just pictured meeting my mom. She's the person I always wondered about and wanted to meet'.
Sorry for the world's longest comment! I loved reading your family's story. I especially love your frank and open and damn funny characterizations of your family. Oh, and you and Erika, you look VERY much alike. For sure.