A wait of many decades to meet my mother

• Author: Therese Ryan
• Published date: 01 October 2022
• Publication title: Irish Times: Web Edition Articles (Dublin, Ireland)

Like many adopted people, I spent years traipsing to social workers. I begged for information about my birth and adoption and was drip-fed morsels: my mother's Christian name, my original name, the county she lived in. Each time, I was reminded about her right to privacy. The conflicting facts I was fed made it impossible to discern what was true. Eventually, I was informed that my birth mother had stated several years previously that she didn't want contact. I was devastated

When finally I held my birth certificate in my hand, I expected to feel different but it meant very little. It provided my birth mother's full name, but I still didn't know who I was

My need to know my identity didn't go away as I grew older. My sense of emptiness only grew stronger. At last, frustrated and angry, I turned private detective. Pregnant with my third child, I trawled through registers in the office of Births, Deaths and Marriages. When finally I held my birth certificate in my hand, I expected to feel different but it meant very little. It provided my birth mother's full name, but I still didn't know who I was.

I needed to see my mother, and to hear about the circumstances of my birth. More years went by. I tried hard to find her and failed. Then 14 years after my first visit to the social worker, my birth mother agreed to contact. I was ecstatic.

She sent me letters which I read over and over, and slowly we got to know each other. In every letter she wrote, "we'll meet some day, I promise". I expected our reunion to happen quickly. It didn't. She hadn't told her husband or children about me. She had kept the secret of my birth and adoption for 42 years.

I couldn't bear to live the rest of my life aware that I had siblings without letting them know I existed

After three years, her letters came less often then stopped altogether. I was desperately disappointed. I couldn't bear to live the rest of my life aware that I had siblings without letting them know I existed. Deciding to contact them was the most difficult decision I've ever made but I felt I had to stand up for my five-week-old self, to gather her in my arms and reassure her she was wanted and loved.

The outcome was turmoil, shock, anger, grief, along with relief and joy. My sister was welcoming, accepting, understanding. My brothers didn't want anything to do with me. My birth mother was distraught. But I have never regretted my decision.

In the coming months, other adoptees will find themselves in the same...