Ah, the twists and turns.
There has been a lot in the news about an Ontario bill which if passed will open up all adoption records unless someone specifically puts in their records a request for 'no contact'. It has been interesting reading the letters in the op ed pages, each one expressing a different point of view based on their experience. Even I had to venture out and write my first letter in response to one letter I read.
Let me first give you the background on which my viewpoint is based. Some twists and turns that have shaped who I am.
In early 1969 at the ripe old age of 18, I was engaged to a man. There were many reasons at the time however looking back, none of them were valid. That June I discovered I was pregnant after falling for the old 'you won't get pregnant on your first time' routine. Oh to be that naive! That pregnancy was a defining moment in my life as it made me take a step back and look at what the future may hold and whether or not I was on the right track. I took a look at the man himself and what our future would be and whether or not we were capable of providing a happy, healthy, loving and secure environment for the child I was carrying. I decided that we were not.
And so, I chose a different path for my baby and for me. I knew I had choices to make but for some reason abortion wasn't one of them for me. I decided to give my baby up for adoption. My first step was to break off the engagement even though my fiance wanted to marry and keep the baby. I know many fathers might argue that I didn't have the right to make the decision on my own, but I did. I then broke the news to my family and took the appropriate steps to enable adoption through The Children's Aid Society.
My daughter was born on December 20, 1969, weighing a healthy 8lbs 12oz. I chose not to see her at birth at the request of my mother. I went to court on January 10th 1970 and gave up my rights.
During my visits to the CAS prior to her birth it was never really made clear to me what my rights actually were or were not. It wasn't until many years later when I started investigating that I discovered I basically had none and had to trust that the CAS had done their job and had found my daughter a suitable home. I married in 1976 (to a different man) and had my first son in 1977. In 1979 when we decided that we wanted another child I felt I couldn't do so unless I was sure that my daughter had been adopted and wasn't still in foster care. We would adopt her back if that was the case. After some letter writing and a number of phone calls the CAS verified that she had been placed with adoptive parents when she was one month old and the adoption was finalized six months later, and the file was now closed.
And so I got on with my life. My second son was born in 1980. We carried on as a family but every moment of every day she was still with me. I frequently wondered how her life had turned out and wondered if she would ever search for me or, if she even knew that she was adopted. When she turned 18 I registered with the Adoption Disclosure Agency and joined Parent Finders which is an org that helps reunite people who have been seperated by adoption. My goal at the time was to make myself available to be found. I couldn't stand the thought that she might be looking and unable to contact me.
As the years continued, my goal changed and I became much more determined. I wanted to know that she was all right. I wanted to know that I had made the right decision. I wanted to know her. I spent many many hours, nights and weekends, searching records at the National Archives, High School year books, Birth/Adoption announcements and so on. I received 'non identifying' information from the CAS about the people who adopted her and drove all over looking at houses trying to determine if they fit the very general description of their home in 1970 when they adopted her. Crazy, I know. I also got in the habit of putting a personal ad in the paper each year and running it from just before her birth date until after Christmas, knowing that this is a time when adoptees might be inclined to search. In December of 1991 I decided that I had to stop. I was emotionally exhausted and the cost of running the ad was significant to our family budget especially at Christmas time.
However, at the urging of my sister, I ran the ad one more time. Only this time just in the small local papers surrounding the area where the adoption had been finalized. I put my sister's phone number in the ad as we were going to be there for a few days and hers was a local number.
On December 20th, 1991, my daughter's 22nd birthday, my sister received a call. It was from a young man named Jeff who had been just reading the real estate ads as he and his fiancee were thinking of buying a house. The personals appeared on the same page and he noticed the ad. He said "my fiancee is adopted and this is her birthdate but this isn't her name". My sister explained that what was listed was her birth name and that her adoptive parents most likely had changed it. He said his girlfriend was out for the evening but he would show her the ad in the morning and he promised to call us back.
I could write and write and write about this experience but I will leave it for today at, I met my daughter for the first time on December 21st., 1991.
What a rush!
How much easier would it have been if our records had been open?
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
Monday, April 11, 2005
A shopping nightmare
On my way home from the Glebe the other day I decided to stop in at Shopper's Drug Mart at Bank and Walkley. First of all, this particular mall has an extremely poorly laid out entrance/exit to the parking lot. On a good day, I get annoyed just driving in there. As I pulled in I encountered an abnormal number of older model, 4 door sedans being driven by people who could barely see over the steering wheel. The next thing I noticed was that many of these cars were already parked but many of these were straddling the lines.
I took a few deep breaths and waited for my moment and then found a remote spot where my Jetta's doors might be spared. I then went into the store where I only needed to pick up two items. That is when I really questioned the wisdom of going there at all.
As you may have guessed..... Senior's Discount Day at Shopper's Drug Mart. Every aisle was blocked by blue-rinsed ladies and balding gentlemen pushing their carts up and down the aisles searching for bargains. The unfortunate truth is that this will be each of us, all too soon. Short sighted dolls reading every lable before putting it in the basket. I took yet another deep breath, grabbed my items and headed to the line ups at the cash. I patiently stood in line taking interest in what people were purchasing at this discount bonanza, when the lady in front of me, the only one between me and the cash, discovered she had forgotten something. So she left. Yes, she left her cheque book and wallet and open purse on the counter and toddled off to find what she had forgotten, leaving the cashier, and me, in limbo. She did eventually return and I of course completed my purchase and vowed, never again.
Always check to see if it's seniors day before you leave home!
I took a few deep breaths and waited for my moment and then found a remote spot where my Jetta's doors might be spared. I then went into the store where I only needed to pick up two items. That is when I really questioned the wisdom of going there at all.
As you may have guessed..... Senior's Discount Day at Shopper's Drug Mart. Every aisle was blocked by blue-rinsed ladies and balding gentlemen pushing their carts up and down the aisles searching for bargains. The unfortunate truth is that this will be each of us, all too soon. Short sighted dolls reading every lable before putting it in the basket. I took yet another deep breath, grabbed my items and headed to the line ups at the cash. I patiently stood in line taking interest in what people were purchasing at this discount bonanza, when the lady in front of me, the only one between me and the cash, discovered she had forgotten something. So she left. Yes, she left her cheque book and wallet and open purse on the counter and toddled off to find what she had forgotten, leaving the cashier, and me, in limbo. She did eventually return and I of course completed my purchase and vowed, never again.
Always check to see if it's seniors day before you leave home!
In Favour of Marriage
Well I just discovered that being an occasional blogger has its problems. For instance, I haven't logged on in a while and totally forgot my login and password sequence. Of course, due to age induced short term memory loss this could happen at anytime.It has been a wonderful sunny and warm (15C) weekend here. Today managed to do a little puttering around the outside of the house in prep for even warmer days when I can sit outside and master the role of 'porch monkey'.

Yesterday's highlight was a trip downtown to participate in the march supporting the traditional definition of marriage. I'm glad we went. I guess the humourous part was that we were two divorcees, living common law, marching in support of marriage. I guess my main reason for being there is not that I am against gays having unions, I just don't want it called marriage. Changing the definition of marriage for the majority, just to satisfy a very small minority doesn't make sense to me. All rights attributed to marriage are already provided to gay unions. There is no need to change the meaning of marriage. I specifically don't think that it is right that, if Bill 38 passes from now on when I am asked 'are you married' the answer will no longer imply to the opposite sex.Well, all in all it was a great day with beautiful sunshine and a nice lunch in Darcy McGees.Picks can be seen at http://www.flickr.com/photos/withatwist/sets/221255/

Yesterday's highlight was a trip downtown to participate in the march supporting the traditional definition of marriage. I'm glad we went. I guess the humourous part was that we were two divorcees, living common law, marching in support of marriage. I guess my main reason for being there is not that I am against gays having unions, I just don't want it called marriage. Changing the definition of marriage for the majority, just to satisfy a very small minority doesn't make sense to me. All rights attributed to marriage are already provided to gay unions. There is no need to change the meaning of marriage. I specifically don't think that it is right that, if Bill 38 passes from now on when I am asked 'are you married' the answer will no longer imply to the opposite sex.Well, all in all it was a great day with beautiful sunshine and a nice lunch in Darcy McGees.Picks can be seen at http://www.flickr.com/photos/withatwist/sets/221255/
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