Meeting My Birth Mother

My birth mother lived two streets away from where my Mum and Dad had retired to, in a sleepy little village near the sea. Mum and Dad had been there for 12 years, but somehow, they had never crossed paths in such a small community.

I was living in Australia, and so Mum and Dad got to know my birth mother well before I had a chance to meet her face-to-face. My birth mother was furious that her mother hadn’t passed on the information that I was looking for her and, also, hurt that her mother had lied to both myself and Dad about her circumstances.

It was correct that her latest husband hadn’t been told that she had given birth to me. I suppose when you get to husband number three, not all the skeletons come out of the cupboard.

After meeting Mum and Dad for the first time, she went home and told her husband about me. Bless his heart, he was a lovely man who accepted the past, and in fact, both my birth mother and her husband were incredibly kind to Mum and Dad. They had them over for tea once a week and always shared their vegetables from the garden and the fish they caught.

They developed a lovely friendship together, and my birth mother was forever grateful to them both for looking after me all those years.

It was about 18 months later that I finally got to meet them in person, though we had many catch-up conversations over the phone. I discovered that my birth mother had a very interesting and sad life until she met her current husband. She had three other children, a boy and two girls.

Her first husband was a friend of her father’s, a man the same age as her father, who agreed to marry his fallen daughter and then made her regret it every day. She gave birth to a son and then left her husband for another man to escape the violent relationship.

This new husband was an Indian man, which caused such a ruckus with her parents that they took her to court and had her son removed into their care to avoid him being exposed to an Indian culture, something that her father was adamant was not going to happen to his grandson. Sadly, her son was then shuffled around the extended family, not even being brought up by his grandparents.

Husband number two was a complex man who loved her dearly but didn’t trust her to be faithful. She had two daughters with him before he went off the rails after discovering that she was unfaithful to him and was also seeing other men, including my birth father.

Then along came husband number three, the lovely man whom I met and who accepted me with open arms. He adopted her two little girls, and he and my birth mother had been happily married for a number of years.

Then out of the blue appeared husband number four, an unexpected surprise that I had no idea had happened until she appeared at my daughter’s wedding with this new husband in tow. An older man with what she perceived was wealthier and better able to support her. I’m still scratching my head about that one!

What a life! I was ecstatic that I had three half-siblings and was eager to meet them. I was also very grateful that I had been adopted and placed in a home with my loving and stable parents. I still wonder where I would have been placed if I wasn’t adopted out, with all that ensued from my birth mother’s colourful life.

My birth mother had organised a family dinner to introduce me to her three children. I was unaware that they had no idea who I was until she told them as we started to eat our meal. Three sets of eyes followed my every bite!

I suppose I must also confess that this is my version of my birth mother’s story, with little pieces clarified by my birth father, sister, and brother’s version of events. They didn’t always gel with my birth mother’s version, and it is as correct as I recall. However, I think there were still a lot of gaps that I would have loved to have filled in, but “you can’t always let the truth interfere with a good story,” as my birth mother said.

My relationship with her wasn’t as a mother but more like a family friend. My adoptive mother will always be my Mum, and the love I have in my heart for her will always be the strongest.

My relationship with my half-siblings has been great. I had always wanted those extra brothers and sisters for years, so it was a real blessing to have new family connections. I treasure the times we spend together, talking about my birth mother and the memories that they holds that I missed out on. Sadly, one of my half-sisters has now passed away.

I liked my birth mother, who was a naughty character. She had a colourful life before I met her and continued on that vein until her passing in 2022. She is remembered fondly, and I’m forever grateful to have my remaining two siblings around to catch up with whenever I return to New Zealand.

So… this adoption story continues with the discovery that my birth mother had been in contact with my birth father all the time. She knew all about him and had been in touch with him over the years, meeting him often. She knew where he lived, his married life, where he worked, all about his family, and was able to contact him for me to organise so that I could meet him too.

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More about my birth father’s side of my family in another blog...

Watch this space.