Adoption Searching is like being stuck in ‘no man’s land’

Julie McGue

Author

There is a term in tennis called ‘no man’s land’. It refers to the area of the court between the service and baselines. Hanging out in ‘no-man’s land’ is considered a no-no, especially in doubles. In theory, a player passes through ‘no man’s land’ to get to the net where offensive play occurs, or retreats to the baseline to wait for the right moment to put the ball away. ‘No man’s land’ is not strategic. It’s a dead-zone. In the case of my adoption search and reunion, I got stuck in ‘no man’s land’ more times than I can count.

When I decided to look into my closed adoption, I was uncertain how to begin so I started with the Internet. A search agency that claimed to have helped Oprah find her birth relatives posted great statistics for adoption search and reunion. I forked over hundreds of dollars, filled in the documents, and waited. For months, I languished in ‘no man’s land’. The woman listed as my birth mother did not appear to be a real person. As was the legal custom in the late 1950s, the agency suspected my birth mom had used an alias. Without her true identity, the search could not move forward. I was stuck.

I stayed in the ‘no man’s land’ of adoption search and reunion until a contact I made through Ancestry.com suggested I try the Illinois confidential intermediary (CI) program. Under a circuit court judge’s purview, I was assigned a CI who had the authority to open my closed adoption records. I was back on offense in the search game, but the lead continued to change as the CI and I took on both the adoption system and a very reluctant birth mother.

First my birth mom denied all contact with me, but after five months she had a change of heart. Through the intermediary, we exchanged letters and photos, anonymously, for months. Then one day she decided she was ready to talk on the phone, to release her personal information, and to meet up in person. We were officially out of the dead zone. In our first phone call, my birth mom disclosed the next prize: my birth father’s identity. A new contest ensued, and I landed repeatedly in ‘no man’s land’.

I won’t drag you through the play by play. I never did meet my birth father, but I did locate him and he did share his personal health history. While he was reluctant to include me in his life, he did me a favor. He informed my half-brother and sister about the daughters (I have a an identical twin sister) that he fathered before he met their mother. I now have a meaningful relationship with my siblings.

In the course of four years, the match up between my closed adoption and me was truly a battle. It was fraught with delays, unforced errors, stumbles and poor judgment calls, but I persevered. I threw every shot and strategy I had at my disposal into my quest for information surrounding my adoption. I emerged from the challenge with a full health history, a pedigree, and a better sense of myself. It wasn’t ever a perfect matchup: me versus my adoption. While I had won the trophies I’d desired, I walked off the court a very dinged-up contestant. It has taken awhile for some of the wounds to heal.

As in any great competition, the contestant can learn a lot from replays. So too can the bystanders and folks in the audience. From this side of the winner’s circle, here’s the big takeaway from my adoption search: stay in it-to win it, throw everything you can into the contest, but if the injuries are too deep, either take a break, or get out and preserve your health. ‘No man’s land’ is not where you want to linger or end up.

“From this side of the winner’s circle, here’s the big takeaway from my adoption search: stay in it-to win it, throw everything you can into the contest, but if the injuries are too deep, either take a break, or get out and preserve your health.”

SHOW MORE POSTS