Each of us has a book inside of us and a story to tell. If I ever say we should be thankful I don’t mean we should be thankful just because we were adopted, and we should not be thankful just because society expects us to feel that way. The word “grateful” has become twisted… Continue reading We Must Always Be Thankful
In honor of all mothers. I wanted to show that many adoptees are willing to search their entire lives for the truth of their origins. To a Birthmother I lie here awake Deep chasm of night Thick curtains are drawn To shield drops of light The moon cannot speak Inside this dark tomb Blackness within… Continue reading To A Birthmother
I was born and adopted in Indiana. When I turned eighteen I considered myself an adult. I could buy a pack of cigarettes.I could vote for the President.I could buy a gun. When I turned twenty-one I could go to a bar.I could order a drink.I could get drunk.But I was never allowed to inquire… Continue reading Infant is my name
Dear birthmother, I never had the chance to meet you. If I did, I would have thanked you for giving my sister and I what you could not offer, which was the chance to live in a loving home and being able to experience the fullness and richness of life. I know you made… Continue reading Dear birthmother
When adoption rules were written, the original deal was to protect the “rights” of the adoptive parent and the birth mother. By sealing the birth records, the goal was to prevent shame and to hide the secrets of the past. That has always been the defense if you are an attorney on the side of… Continue reading The Wholeness of Truth Outweighs the Pain of the Past
My name has not always been Diamond Mike. In fact, when I was born I never had a name. The name Michael was given to me three days later by a loving woman and man who I would later call mom and dad. I was adopted. I never did meet my birthmother, who died in… Continue reading How I became Diamond Mike
This is my eye. Upon close inspection, you can see the reflection of Gallery of Diamonds in my iris. If the camera was angled differently, some essays of our mother's contest would be detected. You might see my new mothers jewelry designs. During the last twenty-five years it has been a challenge to separate two… Continue reading The Reflection of your Eye
One day my daughter returned from school when she noticed a young lad in the parking lot of a gas station offering free kittens from a cardboard box. "This one is named...Lola," the boy searched for a name as he cuddled one of the furry creatures. "She is so lovable and kind," the boy continued… Continue reading Kitten in a Box
The State of Indiana recently passed a bill that allows the release of identifying adoption information to adoptees. It is called Senate Bill 91. For over 50 years, the dark “closed records” era of Indiana spanned from 1941-1993. This period banned all adoptees, many being over 75 years old, to see their original birth records.… Continue reading Senate Bill 91
Inside the womb, the outside arguments of anger and despair were muffled. I didn't see the pain my birthmother must have experienced while I was protected inside her. During non-violent times, I know she sang to me through the walls of flesh that separated us. In the hospital, the sounds were replaced by the shuffling… Continue reading To those Who Love Us
October, 1957. This pregnant lady is the birthmother I have never known. The amazing thing is realizing that I am growing in her womb, and that I was born four months after this photo was taken. I was never told as child , "You came from mommy's tummy." For so many years, I thought a… Continue reading Inside the Womb
This photo was taken when my birthmother married her second husband, Kenneth Synder. The back of the photo says, "October 23, 1958. When we got married in Carmel (Indiana) at night." This was eight months after I was put up for adoption, and about a year after my two-year-old sister, Debra Kay Price, mysteriously disappeared.… Continue reading My Birthmother’s Second Husband
12-29-1951. My birthmother, Betty Stewart, marries her first husband, Carl Price. Betty was 16 years old. Carl was 26. My sister, Deborah Kay Price, was born 12-5-1955. Betty and Carl divorced 9-15-1955. Debra Kay disappeared before her first birthday. What happened to her?
I am Michael Crit Price in this document. My birthmother never officially named me. I was named Michael Crit Watson by my adoptive parents. To this day, I am not supposed to have access to this document. I begged a judge for it and he finally gave this me when I was 22 years old.… Continue reading Adoption Court Summary. PG. 2/3.
4. Second Search In 1977 I turned nineteen. Mother’s Day and my birthday were always times that triggered thoughts of my early existence. On Mother’s Day I bought a nice card for Mom. Grantline United Methodist gave every mother a small pot of marigolds. But I also thought about my other Mom. After all, she… Continue reading Chapter 4. Second Search