Adoption Days

I was 6 weeks old when I was adopted back in 1968.  Any pregnancy out of wedlock was frowned upon in those days but my biological Mother was having an affair with my biological Father who was then engaged to another girl who he was due to marry.  

Said Biological Mother (who shall from now on be called Mary) decided that she couldn't cope with me, even though she already had a son who was 4 at the time I was born.  Mary's sister offered to have me but that didn't work out either so I was put up for adoption in Carlisle, which is where I was born.

Meanwhile, 6 months earlier, my "parents" had put their names down for adoption and my Dad (who shall from now on be called Jim) had moved jobs to the North-East from their native Manchester so they looked likely to adopt a baby from the Northern area of the country.  My Mum (who shall from now on be called Edna) had always wanted a baby (she had had breast cancer at 25 and had to have a mastectomy) and had already started the adoption process of a little boy but eventually the little boy went back to his original birth mother.  This time, there was no going back and Edna and Jim, after being interviewed vigorously by the Adoption Society in Newcastle upon Tyne, were matched with me, a little girl.  They matched so well in those days; they knew I was from a biological musical/creative background and Jim and Edna were both very musical; my Dad sang in the Felling Male Voice Choir and played piano, as did Edna.  

I was born on May 2nd 1968 to Mary.  I was with Mary for 11 days before the Social Services took me away; something that would later come up psychologically when I had my daughter Molly but more on that later.  I don't know what that must have been like for Mary but I know that this has stayed with me, just as a feeling when people leave me, which obviously can't really be put into words.  

In November 1968, Edna and Jim finally became parents to me and Mum told me of the day that she got me and I was put in her arms when she was sitting in the back garden.  All that waiting and wondering had finally gone and Mum sobbed till her heart nearly broke, full of love for me and bewilderment.  It must have been a truly beautiful moment.  

From then on, I had an idylic childhood; the best parents, family, friends, everything was perfect.  I did well at school, played the piano at concerts, was popular and above all was very, very happy.  

The very nature of such a wonderful childhood until puberty is something I treasure.