Who am I?

Today I learned that I was adopted. I’m 79, so this came as something of a surprise. How did it come about that at this advanced stage of my life, I learned something about myself that at least some others knew, but which had been hidden from me for nearly 8 decades?

It started out with a recent DNA analysis, in which it was revealed that 23% of mine was Polynesian.  This was a surprise, as nothing in my known family history hinted at this, since my father was born in Sydney of English descent, and my mother was born in England, also of English descent. So, I contacted a cousin in New Zealand, where I was born, and asked her if she had any leads which might reveal where the Polynesian part of me came from. (As my son also had had his DNA analysed by a separate organisation, which produced a 10% ‘Oceanic’ component, there clearly was something Polynesian somewhere.)  Without really believing it possible, I suggested that maybe there was an adoption, possibly my own.

Today I received a letter and some documentation from my cousin. It arrived just as I was preparing lunch, and my wife opened the package, so while I was in the middle of cooking beef stroganoff, I heard my wife say “You’re adopted”.

This information raises as many questions as it answers.  Unfortunately, the generation which might have some answers are all dead, and few of my cousins will have any knowledge of my adoptive status, nor probably any interest. Quite simply, I imagine that in the past this was something that wasn’t discussed, and that after a while, people — including even my parent — forgot that I was adopted. Now, it’s only because oner or two cousins have been exploring family history that this has come up, and more significantly, only because of the questions raised by my DNA analysis, and subsequent contacting my cousin, that it has come to light.

Now I’m wondering whether I’ll go through a sort of revere equivalent of the five stages of  grief and loss : 1. Denial and isolation; 2. Anger; 3. Bargaining; 4. Depression; 5. Acceptance. At the moment, my feeling is one of regret — of not having known when my parents were alive. But thoughts on that, and a request for my pre-adoption birth certificate form the New Zealand Dept of Internal Affairs are matters for another day. Meanwhile, I end 2017 knowing a lot more about who I am but with a great deal more remaining to be discovered in 2018.