A new connection to adoption

As an adoptee adoption has always been a part of my life. It may not be something that I think about daily, but it is always there since it is a part of who I am today. Growing up I had lots of other connections to adoption as well. I have 6 cousins who were also adopted (sounds like a lot, but I have 70+ cousins!), one of my best friends at school had been adopted, my mom's best friend and one of her sisters were adopted, kids I babysat were adopted. Do you see a pattern here? My connection to adoption has always been with other adoptees (and I suppose by default with the adoptive parents of all of these adoptees). I had no connections to first parents. I could very well have some first parents in my own family (it's a BIG family), people who have chosen to keep it a secret or didn't feel that they wanted everyone to know. But until I met my own mother I had never met someone (IRL anyway) that had placed a child for adoption.

And I hadn't met any others until yesterday.

Hilary's father, who is currently visiting from Whitehorse, is a first father. As a teenager he fathered a child with his girlfriend and it was decided that the baby would be placed for adoption. [I'm not sure who did the deciding, or how much coercion was involved]. As part of his cross country trek these past few weeks, he had the opportunity to meet his son for the first time. We had some great conversations last night about reunions, the difference between male and female adoptees when it comes to searching (his son hadn't searched, he had been found by his first mother, who then passed the info onto Ken) and how first fathers are often the forgotten member of the adoption plane.

This son only lives a few hours away from Hilary and I. He has a son that is Liam's age and would like to get to know his half-sister and her family. I haven't had a chance to talk to Hilary about how she feels about all of this yet. It is so odd to see this unfolding from the other side. A half sister who has the chance to meet her sibling that was placed for adoption. The parallels to my own story are somewhat unnerving.