MindSay

I have another blog on the InterTubes and I posted this last year. And I thought I'd post it here, too. Because I hope to meet him before I die. And there are aunts and uncles and cousins who want to meet him, too.

If you were adopted and born on 8/17/73, in Hinsdale, Illinois, you can get your original birth certificate from the state. And if, on that birth certificate, you see these names, Trojanowski or Trzos, then you can email me at <thebratland@yahoo.com>. I hope you find this site. I hope you email me. I'll be watching.

[The Boy, by the way, is a guy I met and lived with from 1998 to 2007.]

~August 17, 1973~

I am a mother.

OK... I'm a mother times TWO.

And maybe today is the day to talk about my first child. Because I have never hidden the fact that I had a child that I gave up for adoption.

When I first started talking to The Boy via Instant Messages, I told him about the fact that I had given a child [a boy] up for adoption when I was just a [wee] lassie.

Because when you've 'done that' you learn that some people think you are some kind of freak. I kid you not.

And before I became really good friends with The Boy I wanted to know right away if he thought I was some kind of freak.

He didn't.

So, we became friends.

You see, I never kept it a secret because I always wanted the child I gave birth to to be able to find me. And I foresaw the danger of keeping his existence a secret.

How would I have explained it to people otherwise?

That's not how I am.

If you want me, you take my baggage, too.

And I've been extremely blessed in that regard. I truly have not had one man walk out on me because of it. Either they are wonderful men, or [I'm rather more inclined to believe] I am an extraordinary woman.

Oh, yes I am.

But I digress.

Almost six years after giving birth to a boy, I gave birth to a daughter. And when she was old enough to really understand things, I let her know that I had given birth to a child with a different man and I had 'given him away' to people who could take care of him and give him things that I could not.

I must have done a superb job because my daughter never felt in danger of being 'given away' or abandoned, or any of that other shit that people tell you will happen to your kids.

My daughter is, at this writing, 28 years old. And if the boy I gave birth to knocked on my door tomorrow, no one in my life would say, "OH MY GOD YOU NEVER TOLD ME."

And The Boy would let him in and treat him like his own, or at least one of my family, and he would never raise an eyebrow.