The World is Addicted to Adoptive Parents

I haven’t written here in a while. There wasn’t a lot to
report on my bio father search for a long span of time, and I wasn’t up to writing anything
about adoption. When reading some other adoptee writers, I discover that many
of them take  hiatuses from time to time for their well being. I totally understand and have been at this place for a while now.There has been some progress on the search for my bio father. It is necessary for me to be careful how I write about it, as part of it is someone else’s story to tell,
someone I have grown to care about very much. She is another adoptee who is also part of my maternal family. We are first cousins and we connected because we were a DNA
match. (Thank God for DNA testing!)  We have been in contact for a few years now, but this coming month we will meet in person for the first time. I am so excited! I am not sure if she will be comfortable with me using her real name, so for now, here on the blog I’ll call her Meg.  Although Meg is part of my maternal family, her birth situation gives clues as to possible whereabouts of my bio mother and bio father in 1965, and friendships,
connections, etc. that may identify who my bio father is. We have been pursuing
those leads.   The clues have brought us to a man I have been trying
to reach who we believe may be my father…There is a lot of circumstantial evidence pointing to him. But then again, we have been at this place before with circumstantial evidence. Nothing is definite until it’s DNA tested. I have been trying to reach him for a few months now, and he answered the phone last
night and we talked. He says he did not know my mother. I don’t know whether I
believe him. We had an hour-long conversation that just went round and round. He
is in his mid-eighties, highly educated and well spoken. When I asked
questions, he would often spin off into another topic. (Therefore, my nickname for him on the blog hereafter — Mr. Spin.)  I tried to keep
the conversation on task but he would quickly spin off into a what sounded like a
history lesson on the Greeks and the Turks. I already knew everything he
shared about the Greeks and Turks. A few years ago when I was studying for my masters, there was an
assignment that we were given where we could choose certain people groups to
study. I chose the Turks being that I know I have Turkish DNA. I often select
things to study that help me greater understand my roots. Since there is so
much I don’t know about my roots, I grab knowledge wherever I can.He also did several spin offs after my questions, talking about his Greek Orthodox church. He doesn’t even know I go to church much less serve as a ministry leader, so this was interesting. He spoke several times about various individuals in his church being adopted… “There’s this fellow at my church who is adopted…maybe you could talk to him..” I wasn’t sure what this had to do with my search. My thoughts kept fluctuating from, “Are you trying to deflect my question?” to “Do you have the beginnings of dementia?”  Mr. Spin also has an adopted daughter and midway
through the conversation he remarked, “I have an adopted daughter and being adopted
doesn’t seem to bother her at all.” Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. A million sighs. A plethora of adoptive parents seem to go to the same school and read the same script. I didn’t talk about being adopted other than once to reference that
I am. I never said I mind being adopted. I never said I don’t mind being adopted. I just said that I’m
searching for my biological father.Why does everything have to circle back to whether an adoptee is happy about adoption?  It is like their go-to touchstone every time an adoptee has questions. Me: I want to know who my biological father is. Adoptive parents of the world: Why? Do you not love adoption?  It gets exhausting. He said I could call again sometime if I have any other questions.I asked everything I could think of that would help drill down on things, so I’m not sure what to ask next. I did however want to say: “Have you ever watched the show This is Us? I really recommend it.”  Today I’m feeling a little wiped out after last night’s conversation. I feel like I just got thrown off a verbal merry-go-round. I’m going to sit on the couch with my dog Manny and finish writing
my research paper that is due, finishing out this semester.  (I have one more
year until I graduate with my doctorate – April 29, 2022 to be exact!!) School work among other thing help me to keep moving forward with other areas of my life even when this
feels like it’s at a hopeless standstill. I know it’s not hopeless. That is a lie I am
sometimes tempted to believe, but ultimately refuse to accept. I realize God is working
behind the scenes even when I don’t realize it.    My hope is that if Mr. Spin is my biological father, he will
keep thinking about our conversation and will not be able to let it go. I pray it keeps him up at night. I pray if it’s him, he does the right thing in the end. In the meantime, I will keep writing papers, doing my job, loving my family, and getting all the joy out of life that I possibly can.  I know that if Mr. Spin is my biological father and he ultimately rejects me, it does not define me.   

Yesterday was three weeks since the DNA test was sent in to
Ancestry. My friend Regina and I have both been checking for results
about 30 times a day. I know the time given is 4-6 weeks, however some people have
been known to get results earlier. I just keep the Ancestry app open on my phone, next to me.

This is my week at school, and I’m in the classroom all day
long hearing lectures and engaging in class discussion. Yesterday our professor did a
magic trick with a quarter, as an illustration. His execution of this trick was stellar, and every student in our class was struggling with moving on to
the next topic without him telling us how he ‘magically’ moved the quarter from
one place to another. He dismissed our questions and went on to  lecture about something else and someone
would raise their hand and ask about the quarter. This went on for a few hours.
We just wouldn’t let it go. The whole point of his illustration was that the curiosity would drive us crazy and we would keep asking about how he did it. And
it worked!

Once he had proved his point he said, “Curiosity is a sign of
intelligence. Wanting to know is a sign of intelligence.”

I instantly thought, “Hmmm…I must be pretty smart!!” (Bahahahaha!!)

Once he told us the point of this whole thing, which was staying curious and going after what we have a drive to find out, all I could think about is the fact that I believe it’s literal
mental torture (no, I am not exaggerating, I really do believe it is mental
torture) to not know who one or both of your biological parents are.

My professor sharing about curiosity and the drive to know validated something in
me where I was comforted that I’m not crazy. Although it’s threatened to drive me off a cliff at times, I’m normal. There is nothing wrong with me. It’s perfectly okay that I don’t want to let this go, that I
can’t just let this go.

Just like our class needed to know where that darn quarter
was, I need to know who my father is.