(first published July 2011 – don’t get all emotional, he apparently didn’t really mean it)
Yesterday my son was diagnosed with juvenile rheumatoid arthritis. He makes 5 out of 5 kids now with some life altering condition/issue/disease (not all awful, none life threatening unless you count anaphylactic food allergies, but still…). You bet your booties I wonder what I’m bringing into this equation of hereditary conditions. I hate not knowing anything. But there is a tiny bright side to all this.
I talked to my (adoptive) father just now. For 20 years now he has been the “sticking point” in my choice to NOT really search for my birth family. When I was 22 or so I told my parents I wanted to search. My father’s reaction was so strong and emotional that I decided that I just *couldn’t* search…I couldn’t do that to them, and did I really want to open that can of worms anyway? I’ve spent the last 20 years feeling a combination of anger, relief, disbelief, love, and sympathy for my dad’s reaction and what it meant for ME. In the interest of full disclosure, I do Google my birthday occasionally and look on forums for mentions of a baby girl born then, but I’ve never done anything more than that.
After hearing that yet another of my children has some sort of problem, my father told me he would do anything to get me the information I need about my birth family!! This.is.huge. HUGE.
Even if I *never* find out any more information than I have now, I feel free.