“Who, What, Where,When,Why, and How” are questions I could not answer about my roots
In the 1970’s adoptions were top secret in the United States. The birth mother and adoptive parents never met, did not know each other’s name, and were not given a scrap of information about the other. When the adoption was finalized the child was issued a falsified birth certificate with the adoptive parents listed as parents and the race of the child was recorded as the same race as the parents (I don’t know about Asian babies adopted abroad). The birth was recorded as single. The name was whatever the adoptive parents chose, even if they were adopting an older child. The adoptive parents had the right to change the name. Of course the transaction was so secretive they did not know the original birth name, so they had to re-name an infant anyway.The only truth on the adoptive birth certificate was the name of the hospital, the doctor, the date and time of birth. The original birth certificate was “sealed” which meant there was no way to access a copy without a court order and courts did not make give such orders. There’s no way to tell by looking at the adoptive birth certificate that it’s a falsified government record.
I was adopted as a three year old along with two other children, a boy and a girl 7 and 8 years older than me. We were all adopted together but since I would not remember the way they did, the lady who adopted us threatened to make their lives miserable if they told me. They told me anyway which was only fair since she made their lives miserable no matter what they did. Me too.
When Adoptive Parents Regret the Decision
There are no backsides in a sealed adoption There’s no returning the kids BC no one knows where they came from or who they belonged to. There was always the option of putting the adopted kid up for adoption but the consensus was only deeply troubled people gave up their kids. It was the trend at the time to pretend the kids were nit adopted and no one wanted the stigma that cane with losing custody. Especially since it was impossible to explain that the kids were bad nit the people who made the mistake of taking them in. More stories on that subject will follow in my new blog foundmybirthmother.com but for now suffice it to say I too was sorry to have ended up with those people. I wanted to know my truth. The crime I committed, the conspiracies I joined, all the intrigue of THE SEARCH will be featured in the upcoming site. There, you’ll discover how I found my birth mother, what happened in the aftermath and I will share what I learned about the effects of adoption. I don’t know if the underground search network I used to find my birth mother in the 1990’s still exists but I will find out and bring you up to speed on the adoptee subculture.
Primal Rejection Matters
Unsurprisingly many adoptees become addicts. Rejection is something that drives addiction. Rejection triggers a survival response, perhaps the brain hearkens back to a time when banishment from the clan meant certain death. Come to think of it, we must be accepted to survive even in this modern wirld.
Info For Today’s Adoptees
People think adoptions are open today and reunions happen all the time. In truth most states have the records within the same impenetrable fortress as days gone by. I am grateful for the technology that wrested so much info about me from a bit of saliva. Scottish? Well, there’s much to learn!