Sean's Reunion Experience
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The first time I had any idea that I was adopted was when I was in my early teens. My dad and I were working away at something and he brought it up. He mentioned that my birth parents were young when they had me: 15 and 16. The adoption agency had given them very little other information. At first, the information was like a hidden secret and I felt like I had to tell the world. Then after a while, I realized that although the information was interesting it had little to bear on who I was, outside of my genetics. My mom and dad had raised me and installed the values I had, and supported me. So I accepted the information, took it in, and carried on with life.
The only time I would even think about being adopted is when I met other adoptees. Many would talk of their searches for their birth parents. There seemed to be a trend of interest after they discovered who they were (usually in their early 20's). They would want to know why they were the way they were: was it genetics? or was it environment? Would their birth parents be able to relate to them at a level they couldn't achieve with their parents? Could they answer questions about themselves that no one else could? The curiosity would keep them awake at night. One friend I talked to said his only goal was to reassure his birth parents that they had made the right choice.
This idea appealed to me. In fact, if I wasn't so distracted with life, I may have even acted on this initiative, but I didn't.
Then in April 1997 a week or so before my 28th birthday I received a phone call. It was a counselor from Alberta who established my identity and then asked me if I knew I was adopted. When I responded he informed me that my birth mother would like to make contact with me and asked if I would allow her to call me. He then told me what my birth name was: Christopher Lee Brent. I was intrigued to find that although my mom had renamed me Robert Sean my younger brothers are Raymond Lee and Christopher Kelly.
I filled out the authorization form and composed a letter of introduction for some one I had never known, but who I am fundamentally a part of. I described who I was and how I got to where I am as a person. The first time we talked on the phone was very interesting. I tried to imagine what it would be like to give up a baby and wonder after him for 28 years. I couldn't, but I guessed that it would be emotionally draining and traumatic. I talked with Marilyn for several hours like old friends catching up with each other at a high school reunion but at a deeper level. I didn't know where the relationship was going but I was willing to invest time to get to know Marilyn and my blood relatives. I was relieved to find out that there was no family history of disease and that Marilyn has a good life with a loving husband and two sons (not including me).
The spring was filled with conversation as we learned more about each other and the people we know and love. It was a new experience for me to have someone so interested in my life and times, even my wife was not all that interested in my childhood exploits. Marilyn and Randy had the opportunity on our invitation to come and visit for a few days in the summer. I could tell that Marilyn was very nervous about the whole ordeal, but it was an important step to make the whole reunion real.
They arrived at our doorstep in the early evening, and aside from some expected uncomfortable moments we got on well. Marilyn had warned me that she may have a hard time not staring at me and she held true to that forecast. I was pleased to see that they are a wonderful couple who are interested in many of the same things I like to do. I found that Marilyn had known of me for so long and had a deep bond with me, but I just started to get to know her, so the relationship felt a little off balance. She was confident with love and a desire to right any wrong in my life, and I felt like this is a really nice person and all but I hardly know her yet. I can see where some reunions like this could get derailed early: emotions are powerful. But everything worked out fine, Marilyn realized the way I felt and tried not to overwhelm me with attention. In fact, she began to be very concerned about scaring me off, like some scared rabbit. I found I was constantly reassuring her that I wasn't going anywhere and she had a lifetime to get to know me. I guess when you look for something for so long, once you find it you just don't want to lose it.
Another interesting feature of our reunion was meeting my half brothers. My brothers, I grew up with, were separated by a year in age and although we are fairly close (for brothers) we were all quite different from one another in looks, personality and interests. My half brothers on the other hand seem to have much more in common with me: they went to the same university and even lived in the same residence. The youngest one, Jody, has a striking resemblance to me (or vice versa) in both looks and some mannerisms. I had the opportunity to check all this out this past Christmas when we visited at Randy and Marilyn's place.
Overall, I have been very pleased with the results of our reunion. I have no expectations from the relationship outside of letting it grow at its own speed. I enjoy knowing and getting to know the woman who had the courage to bring me into the world. I have heard that many adoptions, especially the closed type that were so common in the 60's, were problematic and caused serious harm to all involved in some cases. The worst case scenario is often what a worried mother tends to prepare herself for emotionally. The reason I am writing this is to reassure people that adoption can work as it was intended and things can work out. You should prepare yourself for that possibility.
Life after reunion ~ December 1999
Well, it's been close to three years now since Marilyn tracked me down. We still talk regularly by email and telephone. In many ways, our relationship has evolved like none other that I've experienced in my life. Recently I have attempted to compare this relationship to other relationships I have with relatives and friends. It became relatively clear through some discussion that I do not have any comparable relationships.
Almost all of my other relationships, aside those with my parents, have started with people that know nothing about me. In this case however, Marilyn had spent three decades thinking and pondering about me on a regular basis. In many ways though, we were complete strangers.
Although Marilyn immediately told me she had no expectations of our relationship, I felt as though she was looking for something that was lacking in my life. I was under the impression that she felt she had ruined my life with the decision she had made so many years ago, and given the chance to do over again, things would be different. While I constantly reassure her that my life has been rich and rewarding to date, I still feel the guilt she tries to hide from me. I know many of the circumstances surrounding my adoption, and I have never felt rejected or wronged by what happened. It has always seemed like a logical choice to me. Society and adoption have changed a lot since then and I realize that Marilyn may not have had much choice in the matter.
I don't feel as if I'm better off being adopted, nor do I feel like I have missed out on anything. It's just the way things worked out, and I feel I was dealt a pretty good hand to work with. Life is what you make of it.
So Marilyn and I have been redefining our relationship as it goes along. I think we have reached a point where we both feel comfortable talking about just about anything. Originally I felt bombarded by the waves of emotion that Marilyn emitted. I had no concept of the depth of her pain or separation anxiety. I know that I will never understand these emotions, but I know they run deep into the soul of motherhood. Now things seemed to have stabilized as they often do with time and patience, and we know each other as few people know each other. We have built a solid friendship.
January 2001 Update
I've received a few questions about the effects of reunion on my parents. Not mentioning this before, was a major oversight because it seems to be a critical component to any reunion and something every adoptee has to consider.
I think the reason I didn't include it in the page earlier on is that I wasn't exactly sure how my mom was going to handle it. I knew my dad was very supportive all along and I was able to talk to him about it, but my mom has never talked to me about being adopted. She has always been very protective.
I think the key is to reassure your adoptive parents that you can never be taken away from them and they will always be your mom and dad. I suppose that is why I have never referred to Marilyn as mom, or mother; since those titles are reserved for my mom. I am certain now that both my mom and dad are comfortable with my relationship with Marilyn. We've fairly recently all had supper together and no food was thrown. I think it is a natural instinct for any parent to be protective of their children whether they are born to them or adopted. Patience overcomes most fear.
The question of identity is an important one, in retrospect, because things get confusing all around if you have more than one person trying to fill the role of mother or father. That's why I think it is important to define new relationships with reunited birth parents. They can be just as deep and rewarding without the confusion.
