An Adoption Story Part 2

The author has a dilemma...

Today I made a phone call. Well, I left a message first. I was surprised she even still worked there, just not in the same position. She is Sharon, the social worker that handled my case with Catholic Social Services when I was a baby. She also just happened to be a member of the same church as my family. I haven’t spoken to her about my adoption since I was 18, when I decided that I’d like some level of understanding about my whole situation surrounding birth. My parents didn’t really have the answers nor did they want to. I always could tell it was heartbreaking to them, they never really wanted me to know at all.

I’ve held on to this business card for 13 years knowing the day would come where I had to use it. Today was that day. But 18 years ago I was still sitting on the couch in bewilderment when my mom broke out a photo album I’d never noticed before. There were pictures I had never seen before of me as a baby. It never dawned on me when I was a small child that my parents never produced an image of me as a newborn. Hell, I couldn’t even get a straight story from my family of what time I was born. That should’ve all been suspicious but then again I was young.

But now facing down 31 years on this floating rock the story only has one major hole left: the beginning. But first I have a choice sitting in my email inbox with a bunch of supporting documents: do I want to know who my parents are or do I just want non-identifying information? It’s a dilemma I have fought with for quite some time, do I care to know who these people are? Should I care? Do I even have a choice? With that said, this is where I leave you reader until next time.