How Times Change

Probably the single greatest source of information for me when searching over the years came from the wonderful people on the NY Adoptees Yahoo group. They share their stories, answer questions, support each other and generally provide insight based on best practices and their own personal experiences. It was because of that group that I decided to write Catholic Charities again in summer of 2007 and ask for an updated non-identifying information report.

She Does Have a Bit of a Temper

Including my parents in my search yielded some unexpectedly enlightening results. The first was a letter that they had received from their Catholic Charities social worker, an apparently delightful older woman named Kathryn Doll. Written in a beautiful longhand script that revealed a solid Catholic school education, the letter was from the woman who had taken care of me in the eight weeks between my birth and my parents receiving me.

In Which I Learn About Spanish Descent

In February 1993, I finally received my first real link to my birth story. My non-identifying information came in a plain envelope from Catholic Charities with a red stamp marking it CONFIDENTIAL. It was two pages in length and written on a typewriter. It was the most I had ever known about my biological family. It was subjectively written while giving the appearance of an objective observer. It was vague and noncommital but contained facts that answered questions and raised more at the same time. It was, in two words, life changing.

The birth mother it described was "23, vivacious, long blonde hair, talkative". She had worked in a bank, and as a phone operator, wasn't good at math but loved figure skating. It stated that her reason for surrender was that I would "have a much better life if given up." Her mother was Italian, her father was Irish and Dutch and English, he was a machinist and a war veteran. She had two sisters, both of who were married, while she was not. They were all Catholic.

The alleged birth father (because the birth father is always only "alleged" so that he doesn't have to sign away paternity rights) was "35, Spanish, dark hair, dark eyes, charming". He had a brother that had died of leukemia at age 18 and he was a "golf pro". His parents were "Spanish" and his father was a machinist also. He was married, although not to my birth mother, and they were all Catholic.

My first thoughts on reading this were "Irish makes sense, but the rest I don't see" and "hmm, I've never been good at math either." I felt calm, I felt relieved, I felt satisfied.

This feeling lasted about a week.