Happy Birthday to ME!

My life has been a surprising, and rewarding journey. Likely my experiences are nothing out of the ordinary. But this morning, as I lay in bed, I tried to remember my earliest memory and I realise I've survived and lived through a lot of life.

I honestly wish I could remember back to my birth. I would like to remember that moment when the air hit my lungs and I sucked in the oxygen around me and then pushed it back out again to signify my first breath. How great would it be to remember the first moment alive outside the warmth of the womb?!

I imagine if I had cognitive thought at that time it would be one of confusion. First I'm being squished, next I'm in loud, bright surroundings. It would be traumatic until they handed you to your mother that is...I've seen it with my own children. Their births were simple and straight forward with no complications, other than the fact that I could not stop throwing up during labour. (as if 9 months of puking wasn't enough!) After each child was born they were placed on my belly while the umbilical cord was cut. There was always a sense of calm but excitement when we found out the sex of the baby. (side note. there is nothing more exciting for me than the words, 'it's a girl, or it's a boy'. What a thrill!) Then the baby cried, screamed really, was cleaned, swaddled, and eventually given back to me. At each stage the baby gradual became more calm, but the moment the baby was given back there was a sense of peace that I'm not sure how to describe.

Not all of us are lucky to have that kind of start in life. I would have loved to be a fly on the wall in my mother's birth room. Of course, having no memory of the event I'm left to hearing her version of it. Time can alter memory and how we experience it. However, her version of our story starts with being 17 and pregnant.

My mother ended up in a home for unwed mothers(I guess that's what they did back then)and she was barely 7 months pregnant, or so she thought because she didn't know when exactly she had gotten pregnant. She had decided she wanted to give me up for adoption because she wanted me to have a mother and a father. She went into labour sometime around the 7 month mark, and after lots of complications she gave birth to me;a girl. I was 4lbs 11oz and a little fighter. Apparently I screamed my head off, and when she asked to see me the Doctor brought me over to her and said, "take a good look because you will never see this baby again!". And she didn't see me again until I was in my 20's.

I wasn't adopted until I was 9 months old, and most of those nine months were spent in the hospital. Now that I have children of my own I can't believe I had 9 months with no mother or father. During those 9 months lots of growth happens and they are huge formative stages...it's got to have had some effect on a person.

My birthday has always been clouded by mystery and angst. Especially during the teen years when I was trying desperately to figure out who I 'really' was. My parents adopted me and loved me thoroughly but I always felt different and not understood.(A typical teenage dilemma) However, I grew up with a back door. I always knew I was adopted. In fact I can't remember a time NOT knowing. Therefore, when life didn't go my way, I could always think, "My real mother wouldn't have treated me that way". SO NOT TRUE.

In my mind I was reconciling that someone out there didn't want me. I've polled hundreds of adoptees and each one of them had to reconcile the same issue(if it was a closed adoption). You know you are wanted by the parents you live with but if you have no information about the people that gave you up, in your deepest, darkest thoughts you wonder why they didn't want you? There is a kernel of truth in the thought that someone didn't want you, but until you have all the information you can't know what the truth is. Is it that they couldn't provide for you, or love you, or...? It can drive a person crazy. Eventually, finally, each adoptee makes a decision to be OK with that fact or not. You learn to live with the not knowing and make the most of the people who do love you and gave you a life to live.

For me, finding my birth mother allowed me to adopt my parents. Meaning. My family adopted me but I never got the chance to adopt them. Growing up in a Mennonite household everything around you is about "Freunschoft" or family history. Mennonites are believers of community. You go to church together, you live and work together and you are steeped in family on all levels. It's a small, tight knit circle surrounded by faith and a common belief. Mennonites are a rather amazing group(but we'll save that topic for another time)in their pursuit of all things good.

I share my great grandfather's birthday. This was brought to my attention on numerous occasions and while I was proud of that fact I was also uncomfortable with it because he really was no one to me. I never knew him although I heard many stories of his life. He was a man who lived before I was born. I didn't have any of his physical characteristics or traits so why did I care?

It wasn't until I met my birth family and was shown many family pictures that I realised, yes, I have some physical traits and characteristics in common with the people in the pictures but I don't have any relationship with them either. They were just a bunch of people in photographs that lived before I did. So I came to this conclusion. I couldn't be alive without the people in my birth family because genetically I am their descendant. But I also, wouldn't have a life to live with out the people in my adopted family because they created my parents. When I came to that conclusion, I adopted my family and made peace with who I am. In other words, my birth family gave me life and my adopted family gave me the life to live. It was up to me to fill in the rest. No more back door.

Today is my birthday. Another year older. Another year to reflect upon where I've been and where I'm going. My life is great and I'm really happy. I'm grateful for everything that has brought me to this point or I wouldn't be the person I am today.