This commentary was wriitten on my mother's birthday and inspired by it. I've had many friends and colleagues throughout the years who were adopted as infants. All of them had an inner yearning to know or at least meet their birth mother. They described it as an intense tie to a person who is practically a stranger. As children these friends thought constantly about their real mother and father. These people were very much loved and had happy stable childhood memories. None of them would have given up the experience of being raised by their adoptive mother in favor of the biological one. Despite that the pull of ancestry was instinctive, primal, and undeniable. Every one of them began searching for the woman who gave them life as soon as they turned 18. One by one these friends eventually had the reunion with their birth mother. It was no surprise when every one of them reported how the reconnection with their natural mother resulted in a sense of completion. The meeting, in some way, gave each of them a sense of real origin.
Adoption is a selfless act but are you selfish if you rule out adoption as a path to motherhood?