The opening chapter

Well this is it - today (28 April 2015) I head off from Wellington, New Zealand to travel to Armidale, New South Wales, Australia with the intention of meeting by birth mother.  Cripes!


53 years ago I was adopted and for most of my adult years I have been promising myself that 'one day' I will make a determined attempt to connect with my biological family.  

I have danced and dabbled around this for years and no one is getting any younger!   So in two hours I board a plane to Sydney to take the first big step towards realising the promise I have made to myself a long time ago.

No one could accuse me of acting on an impulse - for months I have been reading and trawling the Internet in an attempt to get myself 'up to speed' with all things adoption. 
Man oh man the adoption world has certainly moved on since I last seriously thought about my adoption.   Podcasts, reunion stories, blogs.....amazing!  Thousands of stories just like mine - and all really with a common thread of a desire to know.

Thoughts about being adopted have been pretty constant as long as I can remember.  Its almost as if its part of my DNZ.  Even as a very young child I can remember weeping, alone about not feeling quite right.  

Sometimes its felt like a big black sadness, at other times just a quiet whisper in the background.  But never totally resolved or far from my thoughts.  

The pointless pondering would be to try and imagine what it might be like to grow up as part of a biological family...

I have been planning this trip for a few months.  I have taken some time to go over the facts and information I have gathered up over years just to check what I thought I knew or assumed was actually correct. 

The last time I tried to connect with Norma (my birth mother) was when I was living in London on my big OE.  God bless the internet - its just astonishing what I have found out and what documents I can access online compared to the slow snail post process.

Peoples attitudes have changed enormously - in the past I felt like access to information was blocked.  The privacy of the birth mother seemed paramount.  My rights seemed to come second each time.

May be with the changes around conception/fertility treatment, the structures and concept of families, the development of global technologies and ideas about privacy and storing of information has led to a greater openness or appreciation of the rights/needs of the adopted child.

In my information seeking I have found myself searching people online.  People have no idea on how information they put up on Facebook can be used.  
 At times I have felt like a grubby stalker tracking down family members - looking at people who are my flesh and blood but unknown to me by an accident of birth.
Overall - GOD BLESS THE  INTERNET!


Anyway back to the task in hand - I am waiting for a boarding call.  About a week ago my curiosity was replaced by fear.  What the hell am I doing?  Forgetting the whole thing seemed a good idea but the tickets were booked, a few trusted friends told what I was up to, the dog is at the dog minders - its time to go.


A good story has a gripping start, a juicy middle and a memorable end. My story may well be starting in the middle and immediately come to a sudden end - not the stuff of a best seller.  I sincerely hope this isn't the end of my story and there will be chapters to follow this one, but there are no guarantees, just hope.


Flight boarding!