Images and Information

I saw them. The people that neglected and confused my boy. The people that loved him, but couldn’t care for him. The people that some days I feel a hate for that I’ve never felt before.

With our adoption being granted and our adoption worker finishing up with us, she mailed us what she had left on file for Jonathan; pictures and contact information for his two brothers who live with his paternal grandparents, a cd of photos and letter from his birth mother containing their full names and address.

Gord and I huddled in our room for 5 minutes quickly reading and flipping through the pictures on my lap top while Jonathan tried desperately to get our attention by sliding things under the door and knocking every 20 seconds. We saw images that screamed neglect, and images that showed a very smiley happy beautiful boy. We shoved it all in my drawer, hiding it from confused eyes, and there it sits.

We haven’t had a chance to think much about it out loud, although I know we both are sorting it out in our heads. All that we do know is that J would be unable to understand it at this point. We are still working on ‘mom and dad chose you, we wanted you to be our boy so we adopted you’. Which is met with great anxiety and questioning and reassuring. Constantly.

The grandparents are desperate to hear from us, desperate to know about J and how he’s doing. Soon we will start email communication to assure them that all is well, but I’m not quite ready for that just yet.

For now we enter a new phase in our adoption journey. With evidence and information connecting him to his past, we have a piece of him that we haven’t until now. Names, images, a link.

More importantly, J will have information connecting him to his history and answers to questions that may arise.

Although, I can imagine this is just the beginning of having more questions than answers…


8 thoughts on “Images and Information

  1. I knew my son’s BM long before I adopted him, but I know what you’re saying about the way you feel about them. Even though I feel enormous sympathy for BM and her situation, I’ve had to work through a strong desire to just bury her existence and everything about it and pretend she never existed. Not possible of course, and not right either, but for those of us living with the effects of that early trauma on our children day to day, it can be hard to deal with those negative emotions. Great post.

  2. Great post. Here in Brazil the adoption process are more like a “closed process”. Most people don´t get to know the birth parents, or birth family. And people don´t talk to each other. By the law, we are not able anymore to have an consensual adoption, or an open adoption. But at this point in my life – still waiting… – I have no idea if I would chose to met the birth parents and/or, the baby history. Difficult question…. Maybe the way is to keep thinking about this subject and try to do the best for our children!

    • Here in Alberta all adoptions are closed as well. I don’t think it’s the norm that we were given the info we got. We won’t meet his birth parents unless when he’s older he wants to and wants us to… and we can find them. We do have a registry where we can choose to send letters or pictures to anonymously. It’s tricky because I believe he should have contact to his history but I want to just protect him and keep him safe only with us.
      Thanks for reading and your comments:)

  3. Such a lot of thoughts and feelings to deal with. I’ve been where you are, and those letters and photo’s are still hidden in the drawer where I left them, they’ll stay there a long time I expect.
    Since then, we’ve met birth mum in person, a very surreal day that was and not one i’d ever wish to relive or repeat. We’ve also had many ‘letter box’ contact letters. I’d like to tell you it gets easier, but I haven’t found that to be the case, my feelings and emotions shift continuously with the arrival of each letter, I pity her, yet I despise her, I feel sad for her, yet I’m furious with her. It doesn’t get easier, but we adapt, we harden up, at least that’s what happened here, it’s considered more of a formality now, just something we have to do, it’s no easier to read her letters or to find the words to write back, but it hurts less x hugs my friend x

  4. Pingback: Contact | Grey Street

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