Happy Birthday

Today is my son’s birthday–or so he’s been told. It wasn’t uncommon in 1970 for adoption agencies to tamper with details like birth dates. Sometimes, when the amended birth certificates were generated, changes were made and searches were thereby hampered. But I hesitate to make these accusations because it could be that in my effort to put my son’s birth behind me and begin anew, I may have confused his due date with his  date of birth. Giving birth to my son was a secret event known only to my parents and my boyfriend and when I emerged from hiding, I was supposed to forget and move on.

I’ve heard that this confusion is not unusual among birthmothers.  Dates might be forgotten, but never our babies.

2 thoughts on “Happy Birthday

  1. mayn&maddy

    I’m a mother. As a mother, I read your piece on literarymama, and it brought me to tears. I’m also a student, studying creative nonfiction writing, and from that perspective your piece was wonderful as well.

    I wish I had something more substantial to say to you. You make it clear how you felt.

    Reply

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