All Change.. And that's just me...

It's strange when you start your day as one person and end it as someone else.. And that is what's happened to me today.. I started off as usual, good old Nicki, Mother, Estate Agent and Ex-Nutter and I am ending it as, well, not Nicki ~ a child who was lost before she was born..

If you have read my blog you will already be familiar with my story of whether or not to follow up on my adoption. It was never important enough to warrant my time and effort, my Mum and Dad were my parents and that was that quite frankly.

But as I have taken small,tentative steps towards finding out then my curiousity has been piqued and I was recently informed that my birth records were now available and would I like to have access to them? No brainer alert, I AM female after all...

So I went, dragging my faithful friend Pam with me ~ oh and the tissues, not that I would need them of course..

And so I read all about myself; How I was born to a woman who already had one illegitimate child, a boy of 2, and felt she couldn't cope with another one. She was organised enough to make all the arrangements herself, leaving her child with her own Mother she moved across country to an unmarried mothers home in the Midlands, and once I was born she wrote letters to the authorities asking for me to be taken away so she could get back to her son.. Yep, that stung.

I was transferred to "The Convent" which was the place that babies went after they were given up, in the care of nuns from the Bon Secours Order. I was there for a month before my new parents came to see me and take me to their home and family.

So, there we have it ~ my initial thoughts on today. I have no doubt that my opinion will change over the next few days, I am aware that my reaction may seem judgemental and harsh, but Hey, it's my blog..

For now I will say that Nicki is still alive and well, but little Elizabeth Anne is flexing her newly aquired wings and may well yet surprise us all...

As Time Goes By..

I have been talking a lot about the whole adoption thing recently and I expect you are wondering why I have gone silent.. And even if you're not I intend to tell you anyway!


It's very simple ~ I've had the most MASSIVE panic attack about the whole thing. It's all happened so quickly, and I have gone from not really caring about the whole thing to being totally engrossed and knowing that because of my age, and that of my "birth mother" I really need to get cracking ~ just in case..


Well, I actually need to take a break from it for a few more days ~ I have all sorts of  other "stuff" demanding my attention, mainly crappy money worries stuff, and the lack of sleep and all round pressure is kicking off the bad bits of my brain again. I refuse to go back down that hideous path of depression, so I have decided to alleviate one small piece of stress and let the forms remain unsigned and in my bag, just for another week!

The Moment of Truth ~ An Update

So kiddies, last time we met I was digging in for a long old wait for my birth records to be sent by the home from which I was adopted, I was warned that 3-6 months is normal and I thought "OK, that gives me a bit more thinking time, which I need".


So the phone call this morning from the lovely Social Worker to say my records had been traced and could I nip round and sign a release form came as quite a shock. Counting back, that was ..er.. 2 days, barely enough time to settle the vortex in my head, let alone come to terms with it all.


Anyway, I've signed the form and so now it is down to St F... Home down south to send the records. Then my Social Worker writes a report and then.. well.. then the real fun and games begin.


My brain hurts at the moment, and in the words of Anthony Newley "Stop The World, I Want To Get Off".. But we all know THAT aint happening!

The Moment of Truth

So, 2 Blogs in 2 days.. who knew..


I think it's only fair to tell the story of today ~ having built this up it seems rude to just leave it hanging.. As the Actress said to the Bishop!


So I went to the meeting with Social Services this morning, my lovely friend Pam (ask me about her books and then rush out and buy them) came with me ~ she was EXACTLY the right person to have with me, I found I suddenly needed her unique mix of caring and humour as for some ridiculous reason I felt not nervous, not excited, but ~ well, you know that feeling the morning of a big exam when you worry you haven't studies enough? ~ that..


The Social Worker was terribly nice, which in itself was a shock, Social Workers never having ranked high in my opinion before (which is a bit rich coming from an Estate Agent I know) and she explained that the purpose of today was simply to get me basic facts and to find out how far I wanted to take this journey. I explained that I didn't really know, I just thought I wanted to find out something about my history. 


This seemed to be a good answer and I was just mentally congratulating myself on handling this whole thing in such a grown up fashion when she produced a piece of paper and I suddenly fell apart. "Dear Jesus" I thought, "She knows more about me than I do". That piece of paper contained the name I was given at birth and the name of my birth mother, and it was as though time stopped and the only sound I could hear was the rustle of this paper being unfolded. I think I was actually holding my breath while she read out the name I had been given.. And then she delivered the name of my birth mother ~ whose first name was the same as my Mum. Christ I cried then.. it seemed so strange to hear my Mums name with a different surname and to have her described as my Mother ~ I'm not sure that makes sense, but these are MY thoughts you know!


Anyway, the upshot is that I can now apply for my original Birth Certificate and the file kept by the home from which I was adopted ~ the details of which I already, unwittingly, held. This will take time, but because of my age they tend to fast track ~ that always makes you feel old!


So I am left in limbo, my life has change inexorably today whether I choose to go any further or not. All my life I have been Nicki, or Nicola, and yet (maybe) to at least one other person out there I am... well, let's just say not Nicki. She gave me quite beautiful names, which would lead me to think she did feel some connection to me, and this in itself touches a tiny place in my soul that I never knew existed.


So I think we all know by now that I will go on with this.. It doesn't seem as though I have a choice in the matter, some unseen unknown force is whispering that I simply MUST see this through to the end ~ so that a girl who, 45 years ago, had to give me up might just have the opportunity the see the woman I have become.

And more of the Adoption Stuff..

I know, you're all on the edge of your seats aren't you?? Oh, just me then, well OK ~ here we go.


I phoned them ~ and phoned them, and phoned them again. Finally they called me back, to tell me they hadn't received the documents! You could hear the crash of my stomach plummeting, it could only happen to me, papers getting lost in the post ~ Ah well, maybe it just wasn't meant to be.


Five minutes later she rang back, they had found them, so would I like to make an appointment to go in? I knew that there would be a long waiting list for this so presumed I had misheard when she said "Could you manage tomorrow morning?" Cue a major flap on my part.. I mean it was NOT supposed to be this quick. Anyway, I agreed a time and happily came home knowing that the fact I had to find my Birth Certificate and Adoption Certificate would mean there wasn't a hope in hell of me making the appointment.. I mean I am just not that organised am I??


Well, yes I bloody well am as it goes.. I got home and lo and behold they were in the file exactly where they should be ~ it's like a conspiracy isn't it? Some higher power is determined that I will go to this meeting tomorrow morning..


So, I'll.. er.. go to the meeting and then I'll tell you all about it afterwards shall I?? If you're still with me that is, I'm not sure I am..

That Old Adoption Malarky..

Harking back, as you do, to my Blog about Adoption I thought someone might care for an update.. No?? Well you're getting it anyway..


Showing my true ADHD colours, I downloaded the form for requesting information, filled it in, posted it and THEN thought "Oh Bugger, I'm not sure I wanted to have done that". So I then spent a couple of weeks switching between hoping my request had got lost in the post and wondering why I had received no reply ~ there really is no pleasing me sometimes!


Anyway, I came home today to find a letter for me from the General Register Office. What to do? Apparently the answer is hop up and down as though in dire need of the toilet and..er.. SNIFF the envelope a few times.. And THEN I opened it.


It is a simple letter ~ Apparently my birth details have been forwarded to my local Social Services and will be available for me to see, once I have had "counselling" (For God's Sake). So, that's that really.. All I have to do is make the appointment and forty mumble years of not knowing will be over.


Well, therein lies the rub.. I'm STILL not sure I want to know ~ but knowing the records are accessible is as maddening as seeing the perfect pair of shoes for sale when you just happen to have the food shopping money in your wallet..


The sensible me (yes there IS actually) says there is no harm in waiting a little longer, being completely sure before I make the call, but the emotional side wants to run down to the office tomorrow and DEMAND they show them to me instantly.. and neither side has the upper hand as yet.


So if anyone else has any words of wisdom, please PLEASE feel free to share ~ I am in a positive lather of indecision here and a word or two of wisdom would be much appreciated.

The Power of the Telly Box

There is a programme on tonight "Long Lost Families" ~ it's very mawkish and deals with the reuniting of families separated by adoption. The first series last year was dubbed "Mummy's Weekly Weep" by my kids, as I sobbed my way through every episode.


It resonates with me on many levels, the main one being that of an adopted child. I am not sure whether this is a appropriate subject for a Blog, but it's my bloody Blog and so I've decided to write about it.


My parents wanted children desperately but it just never happened, and so they chose to adopt ~ and being the amazing human beings they were they subsequently adopted 4 of us, my Mother never did anything by halves! I was only 10 days old when I was adopted, which meant that I didn't have to grow up in Solihull, which is where I was born ~ I mean me with a Brum accent?? I think not..


I didn't find out I was adopted until I was about 9 ~ I still remember walking upstairs and hearing my sister scream at our Mum "I hate you, you're not even our real Mother" ~ which is, quite frankly, one hell of a way to find out! I ran into my parents' bedroom and wept bitterly for about 15 minutes with my poor Mother tying to console me.. And then I suddenly realised it actually made no difference to me AT ALL.. My Mum and Dad were still my Mum and Dad and life was really no different, other than it would be a bit cool to tell the girls at school!


At the time I asked questions about my "real" parents (God, I hate that phrase) and my parents skillfully avoided telling me anything ~ rightly so, I now realise with hindsight. All I was told was that my Birth Mother was very young when she had me, and that my Mum and Dad loved me and wanted me to be their daughter. Good enough for my 9 year old self!


The years rolled on and there was the odd occasion where I thought I wanted to know more, but the desire passed very quickly as I looked to my parents and realised how lucky I actually was.


When I was pregnant with my eldest daughter my Mum used to get very upset that she couldn't empathise with me, having never been pregnant herself. That hit home for me.. It made me love my Mum even more to be honest.


My Mum died less than 2 years after I had my daughter and the effect that had on my life was devastating. I had lost my best friend and my rock, the light in my life and my Beacon of Hope ~ how the bloody hell was I supposed to cope when my world had been knocked off its axis? And to this day I defy anyone to tell me it would have been more painful if my Mother had actually given birth to me, it's simply not possible. The same can be said when both my big Brother and my Dad died ~ blood ties could not have made the pain any more horrific. 


Throughout all of this I have never had any desire to find out any more about my Birth Mother ~ I have, in fact, been quite dismissive.. I have always brushed off friends who have asked "But don't you have ANY interest in knowing" with the [true] explanation that I felt nothing was missing from my life and my relationship with my parents, and therefore I felt no need to delve into someone else's life.


And then this flaming programme was shown ~ and I realised that I am not the only one in the equation. Somewhere out there (maybe) is the woman who gave birth to me and who (maybe) wants to know about me. You may say that I am thinking like this because I no longer have parents, and to be perfectly honest you may well be right. 


I think I would like to see my adoption records ~ just to see. And yes, I can't help but wonder what if I look like someone else? A harrowing thought I know, but a thought all the same.


So once again, I will sob my way through this programme while I try and decide whether to apply for my records. Might I be opening a can of worms? Or might I not be strong enough to do it alone, maybe I should leave well alone.


Now, excuse me while I go and mop all the mascara from down my face.