Finding My Family

I read adoptee blogs, and most of them are American. I see the effort and aggravation they have to go through, to find out *anything* at all.

I can’t even wrap my head around it.

I was born in 1972, at the QVH in Rose Park. Apparently it was a bit of a baby factory, but I don’t know a lot about it in that respect. I know there was no real “choice” in the matter.

When I was 19, I decided to search. I contacted Jigsaw (shit … I think it was Jigsaw), and had an appointment and long chat with them. They were very nice, very neutral, and within the month I had a package of paperwork full of personal background and health information.

I called my natural mother after a couple of days after that, and we met for coffee a couple of days after that.

I’m not kidding. It took no time at all, and because I was unemployed at the time, it was free.

I gather that if she had wanted to remain secret, I still would have got the package but with her name blocked out.

Guess what, the sky didn’t fall in.

I just don’t understand why it has to be so hard elsewhere.

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