The Adoption
I have a Friend that I met many years ago. We were thirty something and both found ourselves in a Women in Transition group. It did not take long before we knew that we just wanted to have coffee and be friends. That path led us to be good friends. I was told of a pregnancy that She had had at age 16. Her parents were devout in their religion and they sent her away for the delivery which was common at that time. There was no discussion of a choice in this decision. The father of the child, Frank, a boy from the high school prom disappeared as well. Life resumed for my friend and she became successful in business and led a creative life, but never married or had any long term relationships. With this discovery that she revealed to me of her past I felt she needed to be encouraged to pursue this piece of the puzzle missing in her life. For whatever the outcome. I felt it was a proactive move on her part and would help her feel in control of a situation that she had never addressed. So, we sat and wrote a letter to the Adoption Agency involved. They were located in another state just over our state line. She was informed that the letter would be placed on file in the event that the child, a girl, would ever inquire. It was only six months before a letter and then a call came to her to say that in fact, her daughter had come to inquire and would like to communicate with her. Letters came with pictures and an update of the daughters life as she was 20 years of age , entering college, had a boyfriend and all of the typical information for her age. She had stated that her father was a builder and that she had an adopted brother as well. They lived at the shore and her name was Megan. I was thrilled for My Friend that all of this had come about and looked forward to her learning more about her lost daughter. Then a phone call came in to her from the Agency and they said that the adopted mother did not approve her daughters search and that the communication would stop until Megan was 21 years old and could decide for herself. It was obvious that the wings of flight had been clipped. Of course sorrow came over My Friend and I persuaded her to remain hopeful.
The days continue and life goes on and there is little to ponder about this kind of dilemma. Because the person who has made this affecting decision for you is not of like mind. So the only recourse is to resume with hope that someday will come and so this is what My Friend did.
It was just about a year, I had been dating a nice man and we went to the shore to spend the holiday. On our way home we realized that traffic was very thick and slow and so we decided to make a stop for a while to let some of the traffic clear. He had a friend that lived not to far off the beaten path and so there is were we went. When we arrived , his friend was about to go out on his boat and so they went for a ride on the water as I relaxed on the friend’s deck with a glass of wine. While reading my book, I looked up to see that the daughter of this friend had arrived. She was on a dinner break from her job at the local Crab House. We had met before and so we began to pick up conversation on the generalities of life. At one point, I paused to say that she must look like her Mom as she did not have her Dad’s tall , thin and very Italian features, however hers were more rounded. She stated immediately that she had been adopted at five days old as had her brother Mark as well. I smiled and said that I did not know that. And suddenly there appeared to be a photograph of my friend’s face transposed over the daughter’s face almost like a double exposure. I had an eerie feeling and excused myself to the restroom. Uncertain as how to follow up on this when I returned to the conversation I asked if she had ever had contact with her birth Mother and if she knew her name. The answer was yes on both questions.
The strange revelation of this connection took us both by surprise and we began to cry naturally. Then we hugged as a human response to this impromptu connection. At that moment, the boat arrived back at the dock. The men’s faces were in bewilderment of our hugs and crying and so Megan told her Father the news of my friendship with her biological Mom. He was not pleased and with a pale expression stated that it should not come up again.
We left that day and on the drive home I tried to layout how I could tell My Friend that I had met her daughter, and “ no you cannot”.
By the fall of the following year, I was getting married and I knew that both My Friend and also the Father of Megan would be attending. There was stress in my gut over this. At the wedding, I went to the Father and took him by the hand bringing him to the table where his daughter’s Mother and Grandmother were sitting. The resemblance is astounding and as we near the table, I say that I want to introduce him to someone, and he looks ahead and remarks, “You don’t have to”, and he sees the familiar faces.
The friend of my new husband is respectful of the facts at hand and we are invited to his daughter’s wedding where I take pictures to show My Friend. She is pleased to see her daughter’s wedding and know of her happiness through me. Then Megan is pregnant and I take a present to her from her Great Grandmother who made her a blanket for the child to come. No thank you returns.
You see, the adoptive Mother made the rule for her never to see her birth Mother and all had to adhere. So , again I bring pictures of the baby and stories too. Some I keep to myself as not to hurt her. Like one where the daughter and her adopted brother also had worked for the man that I married at his shop when they were teens. The shop was five miles from My Friend’s home where she gave up her baby, even though the baby had been adopted in the adjourning state and then brought back to the neighborhood of her birth Mother.
She has not met her Daughter, and I wonder why? Control truly denies the other.
