Of Adoption

Here’s a story for you!I’m adopted. I’ve always known I was adopted and have never really consciously had an issue with it. I was given to and raised by a wonderful couple and whilst having a fairly simple upbringing I never wanted for anything. I was loved and nurtured and completely accepted as one of their own.Over the years I’d made some attempts to tracking down my birth parents without much success. All I had was a copy of my original birth certificate (Did you know that I have two? The name given to me by my birth mother, and a replacement when I was officially adopted.), so I knew that my mother was from Somerset in the UK.Then the internet happened and about six years ago a search for her name came back with some results. She’d become active on a genealogy forum. I learned that she was still living in Somerset and I managed to find an address for her. At this point of course I had no idea whether she wanted to reconnect so I located a relative of hers and called him one night to confirm her details.I wrote her a letter.She received it on Christmas Eve that year and it completely threw her. I found out later that for her it was like an out-of-body experience. She felt like she was watching someone else go through a lot of emotions and turmoil. Her family knew something was up but it wasn’t until a couple of weeks later that she ‘fessed up. The amazing fact was that no-one in her family knew that she’d come to New Zealand all those years ago and had had a child. She’d kept it a secret for 35 years. She’d never married or had other children.From my mother I learned the name of my father. He was here in New Zealand and still alive and well. I did the same thing - I contacted a close family member to see if it would be ok to get in touch.My father was a scientist who got annoyed with political interference so gave it away. He now grows kiwifruit commercially on a small holding. He’s happy. I have met him and a half-brother I didn’t know I had. Awesome.I learned that when she fell pregnant they couldn’t afford the flight to Melbourne for an abortion. (something I am quite grateful for now!). They gave me up for adoption and then stayed together for another year. I simply cannot comprehend the pain of their living through their decision. It must have been horrific.In late 2009 I travelled to the UK to meet my mother for the first time. It was surreal. I was really nervous on the flight to London. She was there in the arrival hall, freaking out. My cousin and her husband were also there to support her but had backed off to capture the moment. I found out later that my mother was quite sure that I’d be hating her. Weird really, since we’d been  in communication for a few years at that point. I spent a week with her. Driving all over Somerset together. Learning her history. Meeting cousins and second-cousins. Drinking in pubs. Visiting the graves of my maternal grandparents. It was an amazing time. And it was really interesting to me that the missing piece of the puzzle of ‘who is Simon’ (that I wasn’t actually aware was missing) was found and placed. We are still in touch and I hope to get back to see her again this year.I reflect on my life and I feel such gratitude. I was given a gift by my birth parents. I was given a gift by my adoptive parents. I have had a good kiwi family upbringing. I don’t take anything for granted because I know how lucky I am to be alive.- Simon