As long as I remember I have known that I was adopted.  There was no traumatic “after-school special” moment when the secret was revealed throwing my life into chaos.  Instead, my parents normalized it very early in my life, so I felt free to discuss it and think about how they came to adopt me.  I had this vision that they entered a large warehouse lined with rows of bassinets.  Boys were in blue on one side, girls on the other side in pink.  They strolled up and down the aisles eyeing each infant.  Then they came to me and instantly knew I was the one, the perfect baby boy.

So you can imagine my disappointment when I finally learned how I was chosen. My parents, who had adopted my sister 15 months before me, simply called the social worker to say they wanted another baby.  “Boy or girl?” she asked.  “You decide,” they responded.  Although my parents didn’t “pick me”, they always made it clear that they wanted me.  I have always felt loved, but I have also wondered about the circumstances of my birth and why my birth mother decided not to keep me. 

I was adopted through Catholic Charities in Boston in 1967.  Back then it wasn’t uncommon for an unmarried teenage girl who became pregnant to be sent a way for a few months to give birth.  With Catholic girls the story was that she was discerning religious life and went to spend time in a convent. I was born in St. Margaret’s Hospital in Dorchester, MA.  Through a little research I learned that St. Mary's Home for Unwed Mothers was across the street from that hospital in those days.  Did my birth mother pass through this place? 

I don't know if my birth mother was Catholic or a teenager.  She could have been a 40 year old Jewish woman.  The one thing I've been told is that my ancestry is French, Italian, Hungarian, and Polish.  My red-headed freckle-faced mom says I'm Irish by association.  It will be interesting to see what basic facts I can find, what they term "non-identifying information". I downloaded the forms from Catholic Charities today to start the process.  For me that's the way to begin, small safe steps.