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What's in a birthname?
Ever since I first held that medical record up to the light to try to see the impressions left by the impact of the typewriter, I was convinced that my birthname was either Connor Adrienne or Adrienne Connor. On a whim, I slid my file down from the shelf, exhumed that familiar, aging, yellow sheet, and held it perpendicular to the brightest light in the room. The black marker gave way, revealing the ghosts of my first name.
Connor Adriane
Not much of a difference, I know, but in the search for birthparents a few short letters can mean the difference between a search completed and a search that will remain unfinished. I know. Mine is still unfinished. It may never be finished. The eeriest part was finding this on a subsequent search. So close, yet so unlikely. Then again, what if one of my birthparents reused the name?
I'm crazy. I know it. Grasping at straws and fraying edges. Why do I feel like my search is never over? The search for a culture -- a genetic heritage -- to call my own haunts me like those blackened shadows.
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Because it's not. You haven't found your answers, so you keep searching. I think that's more than understandable. I hope you do find them someday.
*hugs you tightly and loves you much*
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Yet I'm low on willpower. The whole subject has the ability to derail me from what I'm doing and my head will cycle around and around until I do something to try to look, even if it's a massive search about what it means to be Slavic or googling as many permutations and combinations of those names as I can.
Yet at this point I don't think there's much that would be effective that I could do. If I had money I could hire a private detective to weasel out clues that just aren't coming to me, or hire a lawyer to try to get the records opened legally. Both require money I don't have, and I don't have the time to learn how to be a private detective myself.
***pictures herself going all spy-like and getting a job at OLV to sneak into the records after hours, only to find that they don't keep child and birthparent records in a way that is connected to one another, then sighing, quitting, and trying to get a job with the state hall of records***
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From:
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Mother: Virginia Burton.
I am here with you.
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