HB 963, sponsored by Representative Kerry Benninghoff, is an unrestricted access bill that would allow Pennsylvania-born adopted adults to obtain a copy of their original birth certificate. The bill, introduced in March 2011, was assigned to the Committee on Children and Youth. Grassroots groups are lobbying for a public hearing.

HB 963 information -

House Bill 963, introduced by Rep. Benninghoff, authorizes the Pennsylvania Bureau of Vital Statistics to disclose the original or amended copy of a birth certificate upon the written request of an adoptee age 18 or older.

It has been referred to the Committee on Children and Youth in March, 2011.  Here is a link to the Committee Members and their contact information:  http://www.legis.state.pa.us/cfdocs/cteeInfo/cteeInfo.cfm?body=H&cde=48  This Bill needs to move out of Committee and back to the House.

Please contact the Committee on Children and Youth and request a Public Hearing. 

Hon. Dan Moul – Vice Chair
G32 Irvis Office Building
PO Box 202091
Harrisburg, PA 17120-2091
(717) 783-5217

Hon. Louise Williams Bishop – Democratic Chair
326 Main Capitol Building
PO Box 202192
Harrisburg, PA 17120-2192
(717) 783-2192

I am happy to see that my own Representative, Ken Smith is a co-sponsor of this Bill.

Anyone with an adoption connection to Pennsylvania, or are a resident of Pennsylvania who supports this legislation, please contact Carolyn Hoard, choard@comcast.net.  Carolyn is a Pennsylvania representative of the American Adoption Congress.

Here is a link to American Adoption Congress http://www.americanadoptioncongress.org/

For information for other State’s statutes go to http://www.childwelfare.gov/systemwide/laws_policies/state/

To find out who your Pennsylvania State Representative is go here:  http://www.legis.state.pa.us/cfdocs/legis/home/findyourlegislator/#address

Did I like everything I found?  I don’t consider it a matter of liking – just a matter of accepting.  I suppose if you have true expectations, then you are more likely to be disappointed.  Every adoptee thinks about their birth parents.  It’s when you interject fantasy that you will likely end up disappointed.

The reality is – adoption is profoundly life-altering – to every person involved.  There’s no way around it.  It just IS.

Some choose to never look, some look and end up with a good relationship and some don’t.  And every other possibility in between.  But it is our right as humans to know where we came from.  To seek our truth.  To find peace.

Every adoptee has two sets of parents.  Many adoptees such as myself were raised in a good and loving family.  Many adoptees weren’t. I don’t think either scenario should  necessarily have anything to do with your search and your truth.

Many adoptive parents are scared or threatened by their son or daughter’s search.  There is nothing to be afraid of.  Of course it’s your nature as a parent to worry, but there is no threat.  It is something your son or daughter has to do because it is something they ARE – adopted.  Adoptees sometimes become torn up, feeling they have to “choose”.   Many adoptees are “pleasers”.   They feel guilty.  An adoptee should be able to search without guilt.  There is enough fear within them, and they need your true support and love.

I searched because I wanted to know who I looked like and I wanted to know my medical history.  I already had my family and life, and nothing was going to change that.  I met both of my birth parents, and now I only (minimally) speak to one.  You would expect that it would be your birth mother who you end up having a relationship with, but that’s not always the case.  I will never understand  my birth mother’s need to control, and her disappointment and disapproval at my resistance.  I also don’t understand how she can have grandchildren in this world who she rarely or never sees.  She had started a college fund for her granddaughter, who is now a senior in high school, and apparently is forgotten.  I don’t judge her – because of what happened to her in 1961.  I don’t understand her, but I don’t judge her.

It’s a lifetime journey that is always evolving – you may find your truth, and you may always struggle.  Nothing can change being adopted.

Would I search again?  Without a doubt.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 7,500 times in 2011. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 6 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

This post is a tribute to Steve Jobs – fellow adoptee.

Steve’s estranged birth father John, who had given him up for adoption, had been hoping that Steve would call him. John did email Steve, but the emails went unanswered. Pride kept him from calling Steve because, understandably, he feared that Steve would think he was after his fortune. Sadly, pride kept them apart, and now it’s too late.

Steve was born February 24, 1955 to two graduate students, John and Joanne who gave him up for adoption. It’s been said that John did not want to give Steve up for adoption, but Joanne’s family would not approve of their marriage, and they weren’t financially stable. They married in December of 1955 and 2 years later they had another child – Mona Simpson (novelist). I do wonder what changed for them that enabled them to get married 10 months after Steve’s birth.

——————-

A snippet from the Wikipedia page on Mona Simpson (Steve’s full biological sister):

She is the biological sister of the late Steve Jobs, co-founder, former CEO and chairman of Apple. Jobs, the eldest sibling, was placed for adoption by their then-unmarried parents (who married 10 months later). Her 1987 novel, Anywhere But Here, is dedicated to her mother and “my brother Steve.” She first met Jobs when they were adults, after she invited him to a party promoting Anywhere But Here where she revealed that they were siblings; Jobs was 32. The two of them forged a relationship where he regularly visited her in Manhattan. Simpson said “My brother and I are very close, I admire him enormously.”

Jobs said “We’re family. She’s one of my best friends in the world. I call her and talk to her every couple of days.” The interactions between Simpson and Jobs, and learning how similar they were, had a major effect on Jobs. Steve Lohr of the New York Times wrote “The effect of all this on Jobs seems to be a certain sense of calming fatalism — less urgency to control his immediate environment and a greater trust that life’s outcomes are, to a certain degree, wired in the genes.” A few years earlier, Jobs was staunch on most of his character having been formed from his experiences, not his birth parents or genetics (Jobs frequently referred to his adoptive parents as “the only real parents” that he ever had). From Simpson, Jobs would learn more details about their parents, and he invited his birth mother Joanne Simpson to a few events.

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Steve was obviously very loyal to his adoptive parents, Clara and Paul Jobs.

Quotes from Steve’s birth father:
“Now I just live in hope that, before it is too late, he will reach out to me, because even to have just one coffee with him just once would make me a very happy man”.
“I really am not his dad, he said – Mr. and Mrs. Jobs are, as they raised him. And I don’t want to take their place. I just would like to get to know this amazing man I helped in a very small way to produce.”

How very sad.

We need to take something from this. If you’re questioning yourself, or your dreams, or if you should seek out a parent, sibling or relative – do it.

One of the topics we were discussing on a Facebook group I belong to was memory – Is it possible to remember being born?  Is it possible to remember the first months of your life?  You would think not at first, but could it be possible?  Here is a link that was posted to an article discussing this:  http://www.guardian.co.uk/notesandqueries/query/0,,-2899,00.html

I was visiting my parents today and asked them for more details about myself as a baby.  Something my mom told me stopped me in my tracks.  When I was very small – maybe 5 – we had a conversation where I told  her “my mother has black hair” (and my birth mother did).   Isn’t that odd?   I feel as if there’s “something” buried in my memory.  I don’t know what that something is, but the feeling is getting stronger.

“The Primal Wound” discusses the repercussions of a child being taken from their mother.  It got me thinking.  Birth mothers went through horrors of which most of us can’t fathom – and they carry it with them for the rest of their lives.  Adoptees suffered trauma by being taken from their mothers, but they, of course don’t remember their birth and relinquishment.  But it’s got to be buried in there somewhere – doesn’t it?

Our adoptee group discussed hypnotism – would it be possible to access these memories?   What would happen if we did?

I have lots of other questions.  What was it like being a baby living at St. Joseph’s?  Who took care of us?  I’ve contacted St. Joseph’s to find out more.  I will be blogging about these questions and more in days to come.

P.S.

It annoys the crap out of me that everywhere you type in the word “adoptee” it’s unrecognized as a word.  Type adoptee and it’s underlined in red.

This year, I was secretly (well maybe not so secretly lol) hoping that somehow we could do something which would be “surprising” – something fun and different.  I realized that probably wouldn’t happen unless I just did it on my own, but that would defeat the “surprise” factor.  I just felt I wanted a “surprise”.  I can’t explain why.

I have found through the years though and looking back, that there is a pattern with me when it comes to my birthdays.  Usually around the very end of August or the beginning of September, I start feeling “off” – sort of down, and blah.  It increases as my birth date approaches.  I’ve always thought it must be because this time of year marks the end of Summer, and before you know it,  it’s Winter which I don’t particularly care for.  But since blogging about my adoption, and thinking more about things, I’m considering there may be another reason.

Could it be because I’m adopted?

I recently started reading “The Primal Wound” – which is a book about “understanding the adopted child”.  It seems to be a very polarizing book within the adoption community – many adoptees do not think it has ANYTHING to do with them – and, many think it has EVERYTHING to do with them.  I think I fall somewhere in between.  In a nutshell, for those of you who don’t know about the book – the theory is -  that being separated from your mother at birth is so traumatic, that you are “primally wounded” – whether you know it or not.  It is an interesting theory.

As a mother, I cannot imagine the horror of losing your child.  As an adoptee though, how would I remember how I felt when I was an infant?  I do believe that there would have to be some sort of damage done to a child who was separated from their mother and put into an institution for a few months before being adopted.  I just never really thought about it before.  But – what if?  What if being adopted has shaped my life in ways I have never realized?  It is certainly something to consider and look at.

There is a sub-chapter which covers birthdays and birthday parties.  The book claims that “there seems to be a memory built into the psyche and cells, an anniversary reaction (often also felt by the birth mother), which sends many adoptees into despair around their birthdays.”  Wow.  Okay – well this is something new to consider isn’t it.

So, surprise or no surprise – I have a wonderful family for which I am grateful for.  This year, the “feeling” seemed to be building up, but thankfully it has abated somewhat, and possibly, I am coming closer to understanding why I feel the way I do, and in understanding, there may be peace.

And, that – is a gift.

Hey – maybe I surprised myself…

Writing this blog has seemed to open things up for me that I’ve never considered.  It’s made me think more about the circumstances surrounding my being and it’s making me realize that all might not be as it seems.  Maybe there’s something to the “primal” theory – that a person is irrevocably changed when removed from their mother.  That a mother is irrevocably changed when forced to give up their child. 

Being a mother myself, I cannot begin to imagine how my life would have been ripped apart if my daughter was taken from me at birth.  How could a person ever recover from that? 

Women – especially women “back then” – didn’t even get to talk to anyone about their pregnancy – they were shamed and sent into hiding.  Who could they talk to about their feelings?  My birth mother, like many – was “sent away” – as a young girl – to experience pregnancy on her own, and forced to “behave” by not even crying.  They went through one of life’s most changing experiences – alone, and then were expected to just go home and get on with living. 

There is a book called “The Girls Who Went Away – The Hidden History of Women Who Surrendered Children in the Decades Before Roe vs Wade”.  I intend to read it. 

I believe now that something that happened to you at birth, of which of course you have no memory of, can have effects of which you won’t understand – unless you try to understand – if that makes sense.

I have been having conversations with my sister – Jeanne’s daughter, which has made me realize that Jeanne never recovered from her experience as a young woman.  I don’t think Jeanne realizes it herself.  I will talk about these conversations with my sister in another post.

Maybe, in trying to understand Jeanne – I am trying to understand myself.

Nicole, my brother Kevin, and Jeanne in the background

I haven’t spoken to Jeanne in 13 years. Surprised? I am too, but I know my reasons. I just didn’t know Jeanne’s reasons.

I have been reading about adoptions extensively since I’ve started this blog, and  I’ve discovered a few articles and studies that would explain why and how a birth mother feels. Whether she knows it or not. I don’t believe Jeanne realizes the implications of what happened to her almost 50 years ago.

It is interesting this information that I am reading, yet most of us haven’t even heard about. There are millions of adoptions, and nobody talks about what really happens to a woman (a girl, really) who has relinquished a child and what it does to them. Young women left to deal with the aftermath. How it carries on throughout their lives and the effect it has on their future relationships and their families. I’d like to understand it better and I’d like to hear other’s experiences.

My beautiful daughter Nicole was born in 1994. Jeanne and her husband came out for the christening. Nicole wore my christening gown, and it seemed everything had come full-circle. Except, Jeanne was very – uh – disassociated for lack of a better word. The one thing that stands out in my mind most is her lack of wanting to hold the baby, as you would expect a grandmother to want to do. Especially since she lived in Michigan and we live in Pennsylvania. Nicole’s godmother had a party at her house after the christening, and she had a ferret. Jeanne walked around the entire time holding that ferret and making a fuss about it. Really?

As time went on, Jeanne would call me – often. And she didn’t want to talk baby talk. She wanted to talk about Jeanne. Incessantly. I couldn’t get off the phone with her. Jeanne seemed to be undergoing a transformation of sorts. She had decided that to become highly educated was her answer. So that’s what she did. And that’s what she wanted to talk about.  For  hours.  It didn’t matter if the baby was screaming in my arms.  She seemed not to notice.  I would practically have to hang up on her to just get off the phone.   And Jeanne didn’t approve that I didn’t have the same drive as she did at the time. I was raising a baby and she just didn’t seem to “get it”.

I had hoped that even though we were clearly very different people, that she would be happy that we were reunited, and accept me as I was. That we could enjoy a friendship. But it didn’t work out that way.

So, I stopped answering the phone.

We haven’t talked since.

We lived far away, and this was before the internet really took off. So, we talked on the phone. We exchanged gifts for holidays, birthdays, etc.

I came back from Michigan armed with (finally) what my family medical history was. I wanted to become pregnant, and I knew now that I (and my then-husband) would have to get genetic testing. I won’t say why – maybe I will in future postings, (I’d have to find out if it is okay) – but not now.

Luckily, everything turned out okay, and I was able to go ahead and try to become pregnant. It was a long road – so it seemed at the time, and after 10 months of trying, I was thrilled to find out I was finally pregnant.

I don’t recall a lot of phone conversations with Jeanne at this time. I was, of course wrapped up in my life, and being pregnant.

I think it was then that I noticed that Jeanne was a little – “off”? For lack of a better word. She seemed very self-absorbed in this phase of our relationship, and that seemingly self-absorption would only increase as time went on. Things were very superficial, and I didn’t understand why. I was learning a bit more of her own family dynamics, and I remember at the time, being grateful for being in the family that I was in.

My birth mother didn’t seem “connected” – with me, or my pregnancy. This seemed surprising to me. And, as time went on and my delivery date drew near, this surprise would only deepen.

We were to meet at a restaurant – my (then) husband, myself, Charlie and his wife. 

It was – awkward. 

I didn’t really know what to expect, so I expected nothing.  My birth mother, I could sympathize with – my birth father – well, was just that.  Someone who I shared genes with.  I knew nothing of him, except that he was tall.  And that he had disappointed Jeanne. 

I couldn’t exactly fault him for that.  Unexpected pregnancies happen.  It’s the women (or teenager) left to deal with the consequences.  Which Jean did to the best of her ability.  They were both young.  Stuff happens.

He was nice, and he was pleasant – he seemed to feel awkward as well (as I believe the picture shows!)  We made small-talk.  I apparently had a half-sister and a half-brother who knew nothing about me.  Charlie wanted to keep it that way.  He told me about them – where they were at in their lives, and that was about it. 

He also shared medical information with me – and that was important.  I realized that I would need to get genetic testing done if I wanted to have a baby myself one day (which I did).  What he told me that day stayed with me, and played in the back of my mind for years.

So, we spent about an hour together.  We took a few uncomfortable looking pictures, and we said our goodbyes.

I wouldn’t speak to Charlie again for 18 years.

Charlie & Me - Hmm - Awkward?!