fb-pixelHow I feel about my daughter’s search for her birth parents - The Boston Globe Skip to main content
Connections | Magazine

How I feel about my daughter’s search for her birth parents

I understand her curiosity because I was adopted, too.

hanna barczyk FOR THE BOSTON GLOBE

I woke up very early one morning last summer and came downstairs to find my 21-year-old daughter in the middle of a Skype call, in tears. She motioned me over and whispered, “It’s my birth parents.”

I knew Charlotte had begun a search for them before her upcoming trip to China to celebrate her birthday, and now she had succeeded. She made room on her chair for me to join the conversation and, in a surreal moment, I looked into the faces of the two people who are the source of my beautiful oldest daughter.

I understand Charlotte’s desire to know her genetic place in the world. I was adopted in the 1950s, a time when even the fact of adoption was often kept secret. From a young age, I knew I was adopted and the mystery of how I came to be created a deep curiosity.

Advertisement



I began researching my birth parents when I was about Charlotte’s age. Through some good old-fashioned sleuthing, I was able to find and contact my birth mother and learn about my birth father, who had passed away. It would be impossible to express the wonder I felt looking into the somehow familiar face of my birth mother and seeing photos of my birth father with my front-tooth gap. Knowing where I came from made me feel whole.

Make no mistake: I wasn’t looking for a new family. The man who raised me was not my “adoptive” father; he was simply my dad. It is my biological father who always gets the qualifier. My birth parents gave me a genetic heritage, nothing more and nothing less. Though there are profound losses inherent in adoption, if everything had not happened as it did, I would never have met all of the family, friends, teachers, and mentors whom I hold so dear. I would not be who I am.

Advertisement



For most people, their genetic heritage and their families are inextricably intertwined. It is taken for granted that you may have inherited your Uncle Joe’s huge ears, your Grandma’s gift for painting, or your Mom’s freckles. For adoptees, though, families and genetic roots are often cleaved. It’s no wonder then that many adoptees seek to bring these important elements of who they are to light.

Having gone through the process myself gave me a lot of comfort with Charlotte’s search. I understood her need to discover not only her genetic roots but also her cultural roots as a Chinese adoptee.

Yet when I sat down next to my daughter and looked into her birth parents’ eyes, my peace and equanimity flew out the window. I was terrified the new connection would alter our relationship in some as yet unknowable way.

Later, I reminded Charlotte that I always want to hear her real and true feelings, even if they might be hard or hurtful to me. She responded immediately: “I love you, Mom. That is real and true.”

It’s funny how life has a way of coming full circle. My daughter was reassuring me, as I had reassured my parents so many years ago. She was reminding me that the search for identity is, in all of its dimensions, one of the richest aspects of what makes us human.

Brenda Cotter is a lawyer and a writer from Newton. Send comments to connections@globe.com.

Advertisement




TELL YOUR STORY. E-mail your 650-word essay on a relationship to connections@globe.com. Please note: We do not respond to submissions we won’t pursue.