The 6 Month Mark

Today marks 6 months since my birth mom and I connected on the phone for the very first time. I still remember quite vividly that initial conversation which seemed surreal, that I felt I was peeking in on someone else's story. It was hard to imagine or fathom that the woman on the other end of the phone line was my very own birth mother with whom I had never even spoken until now.

Our conversations today are very different. Once in a while I still get that odd feeling of looking in on someone else's narrative, but for the most part, I know and feel that this is my story, our story, and most of all God's story played out in our lives. Pam is a very real presence in my life, and our conversations are no longer surreal. She is not only my mother, but also my encourager, supporter, teacher and friend. She bears with my complaints and she laughs with me over my follies. She does not judge when I shift from laughter to tears, and she understands me when at times I cannot put the words together to adequately express my overwhelming feelings. I reached out to her 6 months ago, just to simply thank her and let her know I was okay. And as unemotional as it sounds, I didn't really need her at that time. But now when I reach out to her, I fully realize that I do need her, and I am so thankful that she is in my life, she has become a very real part of our family, and I of hers. We marvel at what has happened in these past 6 months, and we are excited at what is yet to come.

Celebrating Both of My Moms

"Her children arise and call her blessed..." Proverbs 31:28a

Today is a very special day, the first time ever I get to wish my beautiful Island Mom a happy birthday! Although I can't be with her in person, she is certainly in my thoughts and prayers today as she celebrates another year of life.

Yesterday or today she should have received the personalized calendar I sent her for her birthday. For each month I customized the photos to match the people who are celebrating birthdays. Both of my moms have November birthdays, so this month's calendar picture is a real treasure.This was put together before my Canadian mom was hospitalized, and the collage evokes so many feelings and emotions. I'm sure I will speak to it more another day, but for now, I am celebrating both moms and counting my blessings.

Weathering the Storms

"In every high and stormy gale,
my anchor holds within the veil."
~ Edward Mote

This past week was a very stormy one for both of my families. While my birth family was dealing with not one, but two hurricanes that pounded the beautiful island of Bermuda, by Canadian family was struggling through health issues with my adoptive mom which included also not one, but two ER visits.  I am beat, weathered, frustrated, exhausted and weary. In the storms of life that attack us physically and emotionally, we often come out feeling battered and rendered helpless. We do what we can in preparation, or in wise advice, but really much of the outcome is out of our control, and often the results are not what we would have chosen for ourselves or for our loved ones. This week was a spiritual reminder though that when I am weak He is strong. When I don't feel like facing the challenges of a new day, He provides new mercies every morning. When I feel broken, He makes me whole. Despite what comes my way, whether physical or emotional, my soul still belongs to the One who protects and provides. There is no storm that can ever separate me from His love and care.

Ahead of Schedule, but Right on Time

I don't think you can go through a life experience such as this one, searching for and finding your birth mom, and not become reflective. This has been a journey with much processing for me, and not only processing the immediate, but also looking back to the past and coming to the comforting realization that God was there all along, weaving His little surprises and timing everything just right.

In our home, it was considered somewhat of a rite of passage for us as adopted kids, to be able to discover our original birth names. This usually happened at about the age of 16, when my parents felt we were mature enough to handle the information. It was a time that I looked forward to with great anticipation. I wasn't so much incomplete without that piece of information, but of course you grow up curious as to what your original name was. Would it suit me? Would I like it? Do I know anybody else with that last name?

When I was about 12, my dad ushered me into his home office. Thinking I had done something wrong, I was a little apprehensive, but there he was, with a piece of paper on his desk, and a smirk on his face. "Do you want to know your real name?" "Really? I don't have to wait until I'm 16?" I don't recall anymore if it was the actual adoption papers, but I suppose it was, as that was probably the only official document they had in their possession that bore our original names. What I do remember is that I was quite excited to find this information out, especially years ahead of the anticipated time.

It wasn't until years later, and especially in these past few months of deep reflection, that I really appreciated the importance of discovering my birth name ahead of schedule, not because of the satisfaction to me personally, but because of the bigger picture that God was painting. It was a special moment that I shared with my Dad, and one that would not have happened with him if he had insisted on me waiting until I was 16.

You see, my dear father passed away from cancer when I was 15. I believe with all my heart that God knows the number of our days and in His amazing wisdom and grace He blessed me with that wonderful opportunity to enjoy that unique rite of passage with my Dad. It will forever remain a treasured memory and a reminder of God's perfect timing.

Whatchu Talkin' 'Bout, Willis?

Recently, we have begun watching older sitcoms, and have been enjoying the family favourite "Different Strokes." While I had watched this as a kid, I never quite realized the blatant and shocking reaction that many people have to Mr. Drummond adopting two black boys, Willis and Arnold. While this sitcom illustrates and pokes fun at the ignorance of people, it actually hits a nerve, realizing that this kind of behaviour was quite rampant. Watching this now makes me even that much more appreciative of what my parents did for me, and for my three adopted siblings, in actually requesting the "hard to place" children from the Children's Aid Society. Here they were, as Dutch in accent, tradition and looks as you can get, and they had four children of varying shades of beige and brown. In the 1960's this was not very well accepted, and unfortunately my Mom and Dad even lost social invites and church friends over their decision to adopt coloured kids. In a world where biracial children and families were actually frowned upon, they were unconditionally accepting of us, and I will be forever thankful for my parents' tangible expression of how God sees us, not by the colour of our skin, but through the love and grace He has for His children.

"♪...red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight...♫"

Mom, meet Mom.

I had the incredible opportunity and privilege of introducing two very special women to one another.
One mother loved me enough to give me up.
Another mother loved me enough to make me her own.
On Friday, those two women met for the first time, and what a precious moment that was. My Canadian mom was in good spirits, good health and very good humour. In addition to her non-stop senior-style chatter, she was able to clearly express to my island mom that she is not jealous at all over me finding her and she is quite happy to share me with Pam. They were able to genuinely thank one another for what they had each done for me. What a blessing that there is much rejoicing in this reunion from both sides! I'm in awe over how all of this is unfolding.
While I may not have had the presence of a father for quite some time now, I'm so pleased to say that I am now blessed with two very beautiful moms in my life instead!

You've got mail!

Today, two very special documents and two very special people arrived at my house.

A few weeks ago, I registered for the post-adoptive information package, which for adoptees, contains the original birth registration filled out by the mother in the hospital, plus the adoption papers. Because of differing birth and adoptive names, these two documents together provide the legal documentation to connect me with my birth mother. Tourists cannot stay longer than three weeks in Bermuda, so I figured that if I can prove legal Bermudian ancestry, well, should the need (or desire!) ever arise to stay longer I want to be prepared. I was told the typical 6-8 weeks for government paperwork so I was not expecting to receive this quite so early. That in itself is pretty cool, but the timing gets even better.

Today Pam and Pierre arrived in Canada for a brief visit. Words cannot express how special it was to open this document with my island mom by my side, reading over the very form she filled out all those years ago in the hospital. The timing was just incredible.

Definitely a moment to remember. Thank you, God, for yet another amazing piece to this story.