Twiddling

One of the reasons I decided to move to Colombia was to find my birth family. When I came to Colombia for the first time 9 months ago, I had the opportunity to visit Chiquitines, the orphanage I stayed at for the 1st 3 months of my life. While it was the same organization I was adopted from, Chiquitines has changed locations within Cali several times since then, so it wasn't the exact same building. Chiquitines is a wonderful non-profit organization that has about 34 employees (social workers, psychologists, speech therapists, nurses, teachers, etc) and 75 kids (about 34 babies and 41 kids aged 2-12). 
Before arriving, my mom and I had arranged to meet with the director of the orphanage, Agatha. When we arrived, she sat us down and began to go over my file from 28 years ago. Most of the documents I had already seen since my mom saved nearly everything from my adoption, but then Agatha pulled out documents I had never known about. I finally learned my birth mother's name, Teodora (Dora, for short) Marin. I also received her Cedula #, which is more or less a Colombian ID card. Her ID # is important because the government in Colombia uses them when someone registers for work. Agatha recommended that I hire a lawyer to help me look for her. She said that many agencies in Colombia that claim they can help find your birth mother may actually be telling random people to act like your birth parents, and adoptees would never know. 
I also got to read the case worker's summary of Teodora's life cerca 1981 and her statement on why she was giving me up. Growing up, many adopted children fluctuate between anger and love for their birth parents. Many of us never know why our parents gave us up, and some tend to focus on the negative reasons. I can't lie, I often wondered growing up if there really was a good reason- it's hard not to. My birth mother, Dora, had lived with a man in Tolima with whom she had 7 children (apparently I had 7 half brothers and sisters- 2 died before I was born). In the summary, it says he went crazy and left the house never to be heard from again. In order to help sustain her family, she moved to Cali to find work with 3 of her children (i don't know what happened to the other 2). The woman she ended up working for in Cali offered her a room and some money for cleaning her house. For some reason, this lady ended up telling my birth mother she had to leave so Dora was jobless (and possibly homeless). During this time, she became pregnant with me by a guy she saw occassionally. This guy said he would stay and help her, but ended up leaving her on her own (thanks, 'dad'). She ended up giving me up for adoption because she "wanted my life to be full of indispensable love and security and for me to have a good education (translated)." 

I then got a chance to speak with 4 ladies who were about to give birth and were planning on giving their children to Chiquitines for similar reasons. It was a total surprise, and I instantly had butterflies flapping around in my tummy. My words came straight from the heart so i didn't even have to worry about the Spanish. I told them my story and told them that I knew that my mother had been so strong to give me up in order for me to have a good life. I told them that I've had the opportunity to travel, play sports, get a great education, a well-paying job, and most importantly, i told them I had a wonderful family that has loved me since the day they found out I was coming. By that time I was crying while talking. I emphasized that I thought they were all so strong just like my birth mother had been and that they were doing a wonderful thing for their children. I told them that I'd never forget my birth mother and have always thought of her all of my life. I also shared with these women that I would like to find my birth mother one day. Lastly, I told them that I understood why she decided to give me up- and it wasn't b/c she didn't love me, it was the complete opposite. She had given me up out of unconditional, unselfish love. 
During this conversation, almost every single person in the room was crying, including Agatha and my mom who were standing at the door. I knew that it had touched them, but I had hoped that I had gotten my point across- that they were making the right choice for the good of their babies and that their children would one day be thankful and grateful to them for making the toughest decision of their lives.

So here I am, 9 months later, stuck. I've talked to people here who say they can help me find my birth mom and then they never show or take a month to get back to me. It gets frustrating when someone doesn't take something that's extremely important to you as seriously. Seeing my frustration, my friend Lizety said she could help me last week. Her brother works in the Secret Service equivalent here in Colombia. She told me that her brother could find tons of information on my birth mother or just her address. I opted for as much information as he could provide. While I realize this is a HUGE favor, I can't stop asking her if she's found out any info on her. Her brother has been busy investigating murders around the city so I guess i understand why it's taking so long...it's just something i've been wondering about my whole life. 

While i sit here, patiently waiting, pondering what I should do if I do find her home address, my leg shakes anxiously, my tummy does somersaults, and everything I've ever dreamt of happening races through my mind. These are hard emotions to deal with, but I'm lucky to have such loving, supportive friends and family members who don't mind listening to my rambling. Someday soon, I may be lucky enough to have two families to be grateful for- what a blessing! :o)

Happy Thanksgiving!