I finally called my birthfather this evening...

June 16, 2009

First of all,I want to thank all of you on the forums. Without you all-I would be lost.

I thought about it all day. Finally, I picked up that phone, and called. I dialed those 10 digits. No one answered. I left a quick message, and literally 30 seconds later my cell phone rang.

We talked for hours. He never told my sister or anyone but he fianc that I had stopped calling. He never told a soul. We talked about his mother, my grandmother, and her reaction to my adoption so many years ago. We talked about his father, who always wanted to know me, and didn’t care about what anyone said, not even his wife. He passed away last year. We talked about my adoption, the situation surrounding it, and his guilt.

“I know it was right, I stand by the today. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less. I have lost something forever, and I tried so hard to make up for it with your sister. In my guilt, I let her get away with murder. I know that now. I could never see it before. You are my child, and I will feel guilty forever because you will never know the love that a blood family holds. I would do anything for you, and you don’t understand that.”

I cried, a little, when he said that. Only a little though, because I knew he was wrong. I love my family, my whole family, just as he loves me. The love is no different. He believes in blood, I believe in love. Since we happen to have both, it works for us. He feels guilty, I feel grateful. I know that we are capable of love, even if it is not biologically ingrained.

He said he was sorry. For my adoption, for sharing stories with me that he should have. He had wanted me to understand everything, he believed in complete honesty, and he felt bad because he hadn’t realized he had made a mistake until he saw my reaction. And since I had asked him not to call me, he was never able to tell me that he realized he was wrong.

“Hearing you cry,” he said, “ was the worst thing for me. I realized that I shouldn’t have told you those things. But since you asked me to call, I never did. I wanted to everyday, but I had to respect your decision.”

I told him that I would not accept my sister’s behavior. I told him that the control he allowed her to have over the family was absurd, and he agreed with me. He said he knew she would change, one day- that he would never give up on her. But, he said, it was OK if I gave up on her, because she’s hurt me enough that he wouldn’t blame me if I never spoke to her again. He then told me that no matter what I did, even if I never spoke to my sister again, if I cursed him out and never spoke to him again, if I walked away if I never came back- he would always love me.

He told me so many things. I shared my feelings with him honestly- and with candor. I told him about how adoption had affected me, and how my reunion has made me look very hard about what’s important to me. I did not cry, I merely spoke. He listened. He blames himself, for my hurt. It was sad for me to hear him say that. He made mistakes in our reunion, mistakes that perhaps can never be undone. My adoption, though, was never a mistake. I told him this. At first I didn’t want to, because I was afraid he would be hurt. But he was not. He chose my family for me. He chose them. They are perfect for me. I love them so much it aches. He did that for me, perhaps unbeknownst to him that the time.

He told me that he wouldn’t call me, at least not for now. He told me that he wanted me to share all my feelings with him. If I wanted to call him,I could. He’d be happy to talk no matter what .But he didn’t want to call me – not yet. It was in my court for a while. He wanted me to take it at my own pace, come to terms with my own feelings, and he said if I called him once a year- that’d be okay. He’s just so happy I called.

I am still angry, a little bit. I still resent my sister for her attitude, for her failings. I am sad about his family, at least his mother, who is ill and will most likely die without ever really knowing me. I am sad for her because it must be painful to be her, to be in her situation, as a person who had no say in my adoption, and who hates that it occurred. I am sad for my birthfather, who will feel guilty, sometimes justifiably and sometimes not, for the rest of his life.

The thing that stands out most in my mind is one phrase he said to me, towards the end of our conversations.

“ They may have raised you, but you’re mine. In my mind. I know that’s ghow you feel, or how your family feels, but that emotion is so strong for me.”

I said “ I’m sorry to feel that way. I tried to feel that way for so long. In order to escape pain, I made it seem as if adoption didn’t matter- that I belonged only to my family and that biology didn’t matter. I belong to all FOUR of you, just as all four of you belong to me. Trying to deny that hasn’t worked too well for me. I wouldn’t be who I am without you- and Wouldn’t be who I am without my parents. I am everybody’s”

Acknowledging that, to him, to my little dog who heard the whole conversation, to the air around me, and finally, to my self, was the greatest feeling. I feel at peace. I feel like I have restored balance. It got late. We said goodbye, and I hung up the phone. I am at peace. Who knows how I will feel in the morning- who knows what life will be like once the reality of reunion sets back in. Maybe I have made a mistake? But it sure doesn’t feel like it now. It is not like the relief and euphoria I felt 6 months ago when I cut off contact. I do not regret that. It was the best thing I could have done. But..the feeling isn’t that. This is a quiet peace, a settling of my soul.

My conversation tonight proved to me that this break was the best thing I’ve done for our reunion.Tonight, I learned one of the crucial elements of MY adoption.

In order to do the right thing, sometimes we have to do what we fear the most. In order to make the best decision sometimes, first, we have to let go.