Things Happen For a Reason

It's kind of funny that after all these years I should learn a lesson about why things happen, going all the way back to my teen years. I was adopted as an infant and grew up knowing that fact, along with knowing I had half-siblings "out there" somewhere. I was seventeen when I first expressed a desire to meet my birthmother and any other members of my family who were willing. At the time, we faced a stone wall. At that age, it was hard for me to hear and even harder to process.

The years wore on and I thought about the situation, but there wasn't much I could do about it. About a month before I was to be married, when I was 27, all that changed. Without going into too much detail, things fell into place and I finally met my birthmother.

My initial inclination was to extend an invitation for her to attend the wedding. None of my siblings except one even knew of my existence, so that wasn't really feasible. But I thought it would be great to have my birthmother there. I didn't discuss it with a lot of people, but mentioned it to one friend who must have thought about it for about an hour, then told me that she didn't think I should do it.

She made two points for me to consider. First off, it would be different if I had more time where everyone had time to digest the situation. Second, it was my wedding, and something my mother had looked forward to since I was a baby. Throwing this into the mix so soon before the date was likely to be a topic of discussion amongst both families, even though there was never any secret about my being adopted. Would it be fair to my mother to do it where the focus would shift on this very important day?

I pondered her points for quite some time. Although my mother had always been very open about my being adopted, I didn't know how she would feel. Did I want to have the discussion with her?

In the end, I decided this was a time when I would put aside what I wanted and do what I thought was the right thing at the time. My birthmother didn't attend my wedding, although we have carved out a relationship since then, as well as with my siblings. Over the years, I have lamented that decision. I've wished I had asked her to come or that we'd managed to meet when I first wanted to at 17. I attended three of my siblings' weddings and in some ways it ached to be there.

It's only recently that I've begin to see that things worked out for the best. A 44 year-old can learn that events that took place decades before happened for a reason. Meeting my birthmother at 27 rather than 17 meant that I had a maturity level that I likely didn't have in my teenage years. I was able to consider other people's feelings and the effect on them in the situation, rather than just my own feelings and what I wanted. I realize now that I very easily could have handled the situation poorly, and probably would have hurt people I care about quite a bit along the way.

While I still lament that I didn't have my birthmother and siblings at my wedding, I can appreciate better that a 17 year-old was probably not mature enough to handle all the baggage and emotions that are involved in such a difficult situation. I grasped at 27 something that some people don't grasp their entire lives: sometimes your feelings and your desires aren't the most important thing in a situation.