ADOPTION THE GIFT OF LIFE!

My story begins in the early 1970`s with a woman named Clarice. Clarice and her husband had dreamed of having a large family, however after the birth of her second child she haemorrhaged and required a hysterectomy. Clarice was a woman who never said never. After being approved by the Social Welfare as suitable adoptive parents, Clarice had prepared herself that it could take quite some time –years before a baby would become available. Meanwhile hundreds of miles away Ann, a twenty-year-old teachers’ college student, was studying achieving very well, when her world was turned upside down. She discovered she was pregnant.

Ann and her boyfriend Mark would have kept the baby and married if they’d had their way but Ann’s mother had very different ideas. She was disgraced. She withdrew Ann from teachers college telling the Principle she had glandular fever and sent her hundreds of miles away to have the baby in secret. She went to great lengths to conceal the pregnancy. None of Ann’s extended family knew of it. Mark’s family on the other hand were not of the same frame of mind. Mark’s sister was too unwed, pregnant, similar age to Ann yet supported by Mark’s family to raise her child. Mark’s very own mother made inquiries into adopting the baby herself but was not approved as she was pregnant herself at the time.

29 April 1972, the day I was born, Clarice got a phone call from Social Welfare to say a baby girl has been born, would you be ready for her in two weeks? - Clarice couldn’t believe it as it was only about six months since she had applied to adopt but she didn’t have to think about her answer for a moment. So two weeks after my birth the nurses took me from Ann and handed me to Clarice. The birth certificate declaring Ann Price the mother of Lisa Ann was stamped INVALID or VOID and a new birth certificate was issued -Michelle Lael Bartle daughter or Clarice and Trevor Bartle. New baby sister to Cherie 8 years and Tim 5 years.

To break into this story for a moment I would like to state my views on adoption. Mine was a closed adoption and I know most adoptions these days are open so things are different today, thank goodness. Being an adoptee isn’t easy - but hey life isn’t easy for any of us is it? I refuse to believe I am wounded for life or a victim as many believe of a primal wound - I can say to my Nana who choose to have me adopted out- you made the right choice Nana. I would not deny however that there is pain with any abandoned pregnancy whether through adoption or abortion. As an adoptee in a closed adoption that pain has been intense at times.

I do consider it an awesome privilege to have been adopted; there is no greater gift than the gift of adoption. I believe that there is no greater human love than the sacrificial love shown by a birth mother giving up her child for adoption – choosing life over death for her baby, putting her own babies needs - life before her own. Like abortion, adoption is a decision that should only be made by the pregnant mother herself, without the pressure of others, and only to be made having gained extensive knowledge on the consequences. While I am pro open adoption only, I believe there may be a few situations in which closed adoption is the best option. I believe many girls women if given the support they need to raise their baby, would in fact keep their child. No girl should be made to feel inadequate or incapable of being an awesome Mum, because of her age, lack of education or finance. And lets face it can’t all of us as Mum’s look at someone else and think they are better mothers/parents than us, or able to give their kids more opportunities than us.

The sad thing is with the breakdown of families many are left without support, narrowing their choices. We cannot pretend that there are not situations where adoption is the best option. When a woman chooses this selfless option for her precious baby she needs incredible support and non-judgmental love - people committed to helping her through her difficult journey for life. And of course the adoptive family and adoptee need this same love and understanding throughout their journeys.

Here is the rest of my story…

Mum and Dad were open and honest with me about my adoption from day one. At my first day at school I stood up and introduced myself to the class as," I’m Michelle Bartle and I’m adopted!" I was proud to be adopted as I was so often told how special and loved I was. By morning-tea time the principle had phoned Mum to talk about this, as he and my teacher had not heard a child make such an announcement before. Mum reassured them that it was ok - they had explained it to me and yes it was correct! That afternoon Mum thought she’d better check my understanding of it all. As I sat on her knee and she asked me about what it meant to be adopted I replied in a manner as if what a silly question ‘‘you couldn’t feed me mummy, I had to have a bottle!"

It wasn’t until I hit adolescence that the reality of adoption began to sink in. I was no longer proud to be adopted but rather ashamed. It was my secret that I disliked talking about - avoiding it at all costs. Comments and jokes made at school about adoption and adoptees as rejects and ugly babies - whether personal or not, caused me a lot of pain – not that I recognized it as pain back then. I remember two children's story books that I had a love/hate relationship with - One was ''The Ugly Duckling" and the other was " Are You My Mother? " The story of a little chick that had been separated from it’s mum and went around asking all sorts of animals, even a tractor if they were it’s Mum. Eventually it did find it’s Mum - but boy did that book stir up emotions I had no idea how to handle as a child. I decided that I didn’t want to talk about my adoption with anyone, and I didn’t want to know my birth parents as I believed they didn’t want me - if they had they’d have kept me.

One night when I was about 10 or 11 years old, as Mum was tucking me into bed she brought the subject up. It was obviously the right timing and she handled it very gently but she talked to me about the anger, resentment and unforgiveness she had observed in my behaviour and grown concerned about. She talked to me about how we knew very little details about my adoption and how we didn’t even know whether my birth parents had wanted to keep me or not. That night was the beginning of a change of heart and attitude for me concerning my adoption and birth parents. At high school when kids joked about it I would tease them saying watch out I could be royalty, or the daughter of a movie star and joke with them, maybe I was even their half sister!

I was in trouble in my first year at High School - if it wasn’t for my good reputation before that one incident I would have been expelled. After that event, my desire to please and gain the appraisal/ approval/acceptance, was driven into excessive overload - I worked my butt off trying to prove I was a good girl!  But I was constantly being judged by my teachers and peers because of my one past mistake. I didn’t do well on my report that term and I made an attempt at suicide. I ended up in hospital and had counselling but the beginning of my healing came about through the miraculous re-uniting with my birth family.

One day when I was 16 years old my Mum casually asked me if I’d ever wanted to make contact with my birth parents. I grunted ''Oar yeah" acting pretty uninterested as I was fearful that to be interested could hurt her feelings. She said how if I wanted she could make some inquiries to Social Welfare to try and find out more info on my birth parents. Mine was a closed adoption and by law an adoptee couldn’t access their original birth certificate until 21 years of age, so I wasn’t the slightest bit expectant of anything. A month later I walked in the door from school and Mum was over excited to see me, running to hug me which was like - so not cool for miss 16 year old. She had been waiting excitedly all afternoon for my arrival, as that morning the Social Welfare Dept in Christchurch had informed her, following inquiries she had made, that on my birth file there were 3 letters written to me and my parents, from my birth mum who had been trying to contact us for about 3-4 years. Mum said how the Social Welfare said that they’d not found so many letters on a file before from a birth mum and that if we wanted them, we could come and get copies of the letters, which would of course have any identifying details twinked out, other than Christian names. Well as Mum was so excited I felt the liberty to let my true feelings of excitement show too and we raced into Christchurch straight away to get the copies of the letters.

Ann’s letters were very well written. In her first letter, written in 1983 when I was 11 years old, she was writing to request information about my adoptive family and me. It was clear that she had mine and my adoptive parents best interests at heart and was very respectful of our wishes. The next two letters she wrote to have attached to my file in the hope that I would one day want to find out more about her. As we read those letters the miracle of my life began to unfold.

The letters told us how Ann married Mark, my birth dad, about a year after my birth. That they had three more children. As Ann wrote about their interests it was amazing to me how we were the same. As we sat in the Social Welfare Office reading the letters crying, Social Welfare asked if they could phone Ann - while we were in their office - to check she still wanted to contact us - if we could write to her - letters via Social Welfare. It was so surreal knowing they were talking to my Mum - my long lost mum, the missing part of me I dared not to show much interest in, for fear of hurting my adoptive parents feelings. Of course Ann gave the approval for our letters. As our we got to know each other there were so many interesting links in our lives - near misses and things that weren’t just coincidences e.g. my biological Nana and my adoptive Nana knew each other as they had been in Bridge tournaments together - never knowing their link, my best friends cousin baby sat my birth brothers and sisters! My cat was called Sylvester – which turned out to be my birth families surname. Mum asked me why Sylvester and I said always liked the name.

Once we had written to each other, we phoned Ann and Mark, I spoke to my younger brother and two sisters as well, who had grown up knowing that somewhere out there they had a big sister called Lisa, they would hunt for me too, eyeing up any girls called Lisa my age!! - Things just got better and better -it was truly a fairytale experience for me, to find how loved I was. A month after that first phone call Ann and Mark came and stayed with us for a weekend. Ann came straight to me and gave me a hug and whispered "I will never leave you again ". I couldn’t have dreamt of a better beginning than that. Those words have continued to bring me comfort many times over the years, as I know Ann meant those words and she is always there when I need her. Meeting them was like becoming whole again, as if I had an amputated limb reattached. Hearing of Ann and Mark’s moving story - years of grief made me realize I had the better end of the stick. As every year particularly around my birthday, separation day, even their other kid’s birthdays or Christmas, the pain of my absence and the unknown was at times just so difficult for Ann and Mark. Mark would often take off - go for a long drive and Ann and the kids knew why - he was sad grieving for his lost daughter.

Ann and Mark came back into my life with an absolute respect for my adoptive parents as my parents, they never overstepped the mark. My four parents worked together with my best interests at heart. My adoptive parents found it easy to embrace Ann and Mark as they were so sensitive and absolutely lovable people with nothing to not like about them. However the whole reuniting process was of course an emotional roller coaster time of life - a lot for all parties to handle - a lot was at stake, a lot of room for fear. As a 16 year old I grew up over night having to handle a lot, but Ann and Mark and my Mum and Dad, made it as smooth as possible I believe. Five months after meeting Ann and Mark I had a three-week holiday with them, which was just again a fairy tale, holiday to me. I meet all my extended family who totally embraced me with open arms and spoilt me rotten. When I meet Mark’s mum, my Nana who had wanted to adopt me, her first words too have left an imprint on my heart - She said "You were our best kept secret, I never stopped praying for you ".

When my Mum, Clarice, came to me and said her and Dad had decided that if it was what I wanted they would let me go and live with Ann and Mark I knew how much I was loved – I couldn’t walk away from them - the parents I knew as MUM and DAD, the ones who nurtured me, giving me the gift of love. Now as a 35 yr old I find it so hard to believe that it still took years later to be able to receive that love. From that point my relationship with my adoptive Mum began to be so preciously restored. Prior to that my dear gracious mum had always subconsciously been my substitute Mum. I had always wished someone else was my real mum, but her selfless love won me over. We only grew closer and closer, all because she was prepared to let me go - incredible love.

After graduating as a Dental Therapist I was one of only two to get a job in NZ. This was in Rotorua -guess who lived there - my birth Nana- Ann’s Mum would you believe - and so I had an awesome year living with her. This was the very one who had me adopted out but she was very good to me. I was able to spend most weekends with my birth family too, which was such a special time.

Both Dads walked me down the aisle on my wedding day - I sure needed one on each arm - as we pulled up at the church and both Dad’s greeted me -I turned to jelly and got incredibly emotional as this was the icing on the cake - two DADS! One I thought I might never know, let alone have him walk me down the aisle.

My Mum Clarice, battled with lymphatic cancer. She was admitted to hospital for the final run. I’ll never forget going to see her in the hospital and climbing into the bed with her giving her a big hug and thanking her for her love and her prayers and being able to say “thank you Mum. Thank you Mum I have got it now - your Love Mum, it’s gone from here (head), to here (heart, spirit), I am able to receive it now Mum.”  She died 3 months later. I don’t think it is coincidental either, that same time, my first child was conceived - what a wonderful breakthrough to have before becoming a Mum - as how can you give what you haven’t received!

I can’t bear to think of how ripped off my adoptive family, birth family and my own family’s lives would have been had we not been reunited. My birth parents are a huge part of my life. I have the most precious friendship with them - they are role models and mentors to me, they understand me without me having to say a word - they know me like my adoptive family don’t and can’t, as we are not wired the same way, we don’t think and feel the same way.

Something I am strong about is that I WAS NOT rejected at birth, I was given in love. I believe that you cannot reject that which you love. You can however abandon that which you love.

ADOPTION IS THE GIFT OF LIFE.... for those who choose to believe it, and receive it.

Michelle