Adoption Story - A story of many parts.

Part One - The Beginning My name is Paul, Born 21st March 1973 in Newcastle, New South Wales, Australia and I am adopted. (This sounds frightfully like an AA meeting). This is the first site I came to after a google search. I hail from Perth, Western Australia. Please, don't hold that against me. I have always known that I was adopted and this hasn't really affected me in anyway that I have noticed. In some ways I felt more special than others that I was chosen. How many other kids could say that? My earliest memories about being adopted are quite fuzzy but I do remember my mum would always tell me this little story about this little boy who was chosen and his new mummy and daddy loved him very much. She called this chosen thing adoption. So the word never really bothered me that much either. I always loved that story and would forever make my mother tell me it over and over again. (I was easily amused) Well one day, I don't remember when, mum told me the story one more time and at the end apparently changed it to something along these lines. "and the little boy lived happily ever after" you like that story donӒt you son? ԓyeahhh Then a dramatic pause. "Do you know what son?" "What mum?" "That little boy in that story was you" "oh ok." That was it. That was the start of my journey into where I am today. That was what mum told me many years later on how the news was broke to me. No tears, shocks, hair pulling or general name-calling. I reckon she did a sterling job. As I got older I was told some other things such as:- The reason why I was small as in height was "That your real mum was a bit on the short side" ԓYou real mum was born in Germany apparently. (This went down well as mum was English and lived through the Blitz) I was in a Humid crib for the first month of my life as I was a prem babay. My real mum went to Europe and did the Aussie thing of getting as far away from the country as you can possibly go and met a Dutch bloke at the age of 16 and in turn got knocked up. (This is what mum was told mind you) I was born in Newcastle NSW and adopted out, as my Bio-Mum was only 16. So most of my life I have believed that my Bio-Mum was around 16 years older than myself and may possibly be in Newcastle NSW. My Bio-Dad was in Europe somewhere. I had romantic notions of meeting her and she would be super rich (more than my mum and dad were anyway. They were what you would call over here as a 'Battler''. A person who struggles through life but is admired by everyone in general as decent person.) Maybe she would just be a really nice person now and be full of life and have loads of kids of her own. They would all welcome me with open arms and I would jut instantly fit in. Maybe she could take me away and protect me from the bullying I was on the receiving end at school. My school life was not one of the happiest. I know that is probably a very horrible thing to say, but I was only a child and children do not have the life skills to really think any differently. I was always curious though. Would my Bio-mum look like me? Would she like me? Would she be proud of me? Why did she give me up? Why could she not look after me? Did I do something wrong? (Like being born and all) Would I be treated as the prodigal son returned? Did she live in a mansion or a caravan? Did she drive? What did she do for work? There were just s many questions that I needed answers to. I just did not know where to start. I had a fantastic childhood with my parents and they showered me with as much love as you could give a child. I could never and would never want to take my time with them away. They have done more for me that anyone else in my life will ever do. They have taught me so much about life and let me find things out about life on my own that I am eternally grateful. They are my parents. But something was always missing with me. I never really clicked with my parents in a way that I could never explain. They sometimes just did not ԑget me. My humor at times seems so ґout there, so much so that I was sometimes embarrassing to them. I also could not connect with my parents on an intellectual level. I find it hard to explain without sounding big headed but I would constantly leave them looking glassy eyed whilst I was attempting to explain something to them. The rest of my family never really accepted me. A few members did but most of my aunties, cousins, uncles and godparents seemed to just tolerate me. DadsҒ sister for instance be forever showering me with praise and gave me gifts until her first grandchild was born. I suppose I could accept this is he was flesh and blood. But to me at around 10 years old, I found this rather difficult to fathom. No matter how much my mum attempted to explain it to me. This as the first time I had noticed a kind of hostility towards me. Growing up, I thought more of my Bio-mum and what she was doing now. Did she want to know me? What if I found her and she rejected me. She rejected me once in the past, why wouldnt it happen a second time. I have always been fearful of rejection. I discussed finding Bio-mum with mum numerous times and my mother was fully supportive of it. Although she did say to me that she would prefer it is she passed on before I did find her. I respected her wishes. In 1988 we moved to the UK when I was 15. By that time I had settled over there and the chance of actually finding Bio-mum seemed very remote. I think it may have had something to do with her being on the other side of the world. I thought I had a better chance of finding Bio-dad whose last known whereabouts was Holland. Just across the North Sea. Seeing though as I knew little more than nothing about him. I kind of put that idea safely on the backburner. I eventually moved back to Australia in 1996 and started to think about finding Bio-mum again. But again, they were no more than romantic notions. I just had too much going on with my life at the time. But I never lost that feeling of ґwhat if? and also that feeling I had always had since a child of not being complete. But now I was on my own and the fear of rejection raised its ugly head once more. People ask me what it means ғnot being complete and I have no snappy answer that I can come up with to tell them so I usually just bluff my way through. I believe what I mean is my parents are the people who brought up the best way that they could and tried to not have me to want for anything. But they are not my blood relatives and as such wouldnԒt understand the anxieties that I would have and also understand me as a person that a full blood relative would. Do not judge me by what I am writing here this is just my way of attempting to explain what it would means to me. An adoptee though does seem to understand what I mean. One example that I could give would be a time in the early 90s when I had a conversation with mum. I was explaining to her, quite innocently I thought, that personality wise I would take after my Bio-mum. Mum refused to believe this stating that I surely would take after mum and dad, as they are the ones who brought me up. I always thought that behaviors were genetic and not just product of environment. A large argument ensued and I stormed off out the house in a huff. Sometime later when I returned home, mum was very upset and had been crying which in turn started me off. I never did like to see anyone crying. I eventually agreed with mum that I would not take after my Bio-parents as my parents brought me up. I never did actually believe it though. So another way of saying being complete in the sense that being understood by someone and being taken at face value and not having other prejudices influencing them when discussing things with me. One other thing that used to play on my mind a fair bit when I was younger was the issue of brothers and sisters. I always thought that Bio-mum would more than likely had more kids after me. IҒm sure the same would apply for Bio-dad also. I guessed that I had a few brothers and sisters running around by now. Id be the oldest one and the one they could look up to. I always wondered what they were up to by now and did they know about me. If they did, did they think about me? What were their names? Were they good looking? Did they have better luck with the opposite sex? Probably more luck than I ever did as a teenager. Also, did I have brothers and sisters in Europe? Would Bio-dad have sown his wild oats all over Holland? Chances are that by now he would have. I wonder what the chances of finding my brothers and sisters would have been in Europe? You would not imagine how this played on my mind. I couldnҒt really talk to mum and dad about it without upsetting them. But as you will find out, all was not as it seemed. Everything that I believed in up to this point was from information told to me by my mum by the adoption agency in NSW. Did I have any reason to doubt it? No. Governments never lie. Do they?