My adoption story had a happy ending – it's time State helped others find the same
I recently wrote about what it was like growing up as an adopted child and not knowing anything about my birth mother until I was 29 years of age.
Since then, I have been overwhelmed with emails and letters from other adoptees sharing their experiences.
Some of their personal circumstances are very different to mine. However, their pain, sadness and anxiety are all too familiar. The pain of not knowing who you really are and where you came from. The sadness that descends on you each birthday and Mother's Day when you wonder where your mother is and if she's okay. And the anxiety that grips you every time a doctor asks if there is a serious genetic medical condition in your family and you have to tell him that you don't know.