Beyond the Paper Work

I started to write this blog as the legislation was about to change in Ontario allowing birthmothers and adoptees the opportunity to know each other. That bill was vetoed and it stalled the information being shared to make that possible. After trying for a second time to open records June 1st 2009 will see that dream realized.
For those following this blog you know I am in reunion with my son. It is a comfortable reunion but still a painful journey as I try to navigate reunion's pathway.
I have been thinking about how important it is to me to have the information from the original birth record and to access the adoption information. I have also marveled at how I have accepted my son into my life without any formal or legal acknowledgement that he is in fact my son. Many of the birthmothers I have had contact with have done the same thing...no tests or legal documents to prove that the children we claim as ours truly are ours. My heart is the only test I have ever needed. In every ounce of my being I know this boy/man is my son. The rational may be his birthdate or the place of his birth or his looks being so much like mine. Maybe there is rational is a temperment much like mine, his similar actions or mannerisms that make him seem to be my son. Interestlingly he has accepted me as his natural mother too, no questions asked. I could have dropped from the sky, knew he was adopted and a few things about him and just happened to claim he was mine. What is this bond we have?
From the first time I was told by his adopted sister that she may have some information for me I knew this was my son. My heart quickened and I was reminded of the first time I felt him move inside me. For the longest time after when I would see his picture or hear his voice I felt that "quickening" just like a mom feels her child stir inside her womb.
It all comes back to the heart. I know, I just know he is my son.

The government has kept the applications we submitted the first time they were going to open records. Mine will be amongst the ones they first process. I still want the paper work but it is not to prove anything. It is to somehow right a wrong that was done although I know full well I won't be satisfied. The wound is too deep to be mended by a piece of paper that should never have happened. My consolation is in knowing he is mine, always and forever.