My Birth Father and Siblings Don’t Know I Exist. Should I Contact Them?
nytimes.comWhen I was born, 55 years ago, my birth mother decided to deliver me to Catholic Charities so that I could be adopted. I was lucky to be raised by loving and caring people who never hid my adoptive status from me.
They made it a routine part of my story — much like having blue eyes or being lactose intolerant. It was part of who I am while still being essentially a mystery: I do not know my family medical history nor what time of day I was born nor (until recently) what genetic relatives I might have.
Many years later, things have changed. I obtained a legal copy of my birth certificate with my birth mother’s name. A DNA test turned up a close relative.
Conversations with the relative revealed that my birth mother was — and is — deeply ashamed of my birth, given her religious beliefs.
