The Chosen BabyHi, my name is Sue Story and I was adopted when I was 7 months old. For the purpose of distinguishing between my adoptive and my birth parents, I’m going to put an (a) in front of parents who adopted me and (b) in front of parents gave birth to me.
My (a) parents were always open to me. They even bought a children’s book called “The Chosen Baby” which my Mom read to me all of the time.
My (a) sister was also adopted and we grew up in a suburb of Chicago. Thinking back on that time, I’ve come to realize that my (a) parents were my parents. They were there always there when I needed anything and I love them very much for that.
When I was in high school we were learning about heredity. I remember my teacher asking us what nationalities our parents were. From that information, she would then tell us what we were. I told my teacher that my mom was Scottish and English and my dad was English and Dutch. My teacher then proudly proclaimed that I was Scottish, English and Dutch. I then told her that she was mistaken, I was Irish, Scottish and English. My teacher carefully explained to me how heritage works and that if my mom was Scottish and English and my Dad was English and Dutch, I had to be Scottish, English and Dutch. I then got to say, “nope, I’m Irish, Scottish and English on my Mom’s side and I don’t know what on my dad’s. I remember my teacher looking at me quizzically and asking how that happened. I replied, “It’s easy, I was adopted and I only know what I was told from my adoption agency.”
I wasn’t until years later that I found out that my (a) sister did the same thing.
There were a bunch of kids who were adopted in my neighborhood. I remember that one family had actually adopted 11 kids. The 12th one happened naturally. It seemed that the parents thought they couldn’t get pregnant and started having sex without protection. Their 12th son was the result of that unprotected sex.
I remember one night I saw that same son running down the road, suitcase in hand. My Dad went out and confronted him asking “where are you going?” He replied, “I’m running away, I wasn’t chosen.”
My Dad calmed him down and returned him home to his (a) parents.
Growing up I never quite felt like I fit in. Both of my (a) parents had brown hair, I had strawberry blonde. My Mom went to get her hair done every week, my strawberry blonde hair was naturally curly. My (a) sister has straight blonde hair.
I remember that when I was in high school I never felt like I quite fit in. I was teased a lot and I mean a lot. I was used to people teasing me with my name, saying things like “tell me a story, Story” and “What’s the story, Story?” The part that really got to me was that no boy ever asked me out. I figured that I had to be the ugliest person on the planet!
I even started hanging out with people in my college who were blind. I’d help them with their studies, read stuff for them, etc. They thought I was a good friend but ended up marrying someone else.
While I was in college I contacted the Adoption Agency who handled my Sister’s and my adoption. The woman I spoke with had my file which she said that she couldn’t show me but she did say that she would answer any questions that I might have.
She told me that my birth name was Maryann Hawksley.
Given the fact that I was having trouble even dating a man I turned to things like astrology and numerology to try to explain what was wrong with me. Astrology didn’t explain anything. I did my numerology ba
While in college my (a) sister went to see a counselor who recommended that she contact our adoption agency and ask them to find her birth mother. My (a) sister contacted them and they were able to find her birth mother in one week. Ann went to meet her (b) mother found out that her (b) mother had gotten pregnant out of wed lock and didn’t want her husband to find out so she left until Ann was born and given to the adoption agency. I was do jealous!
A couple of months later I also contacted the adoption agency and asked them I they would find my birth parents. Since I was of legal age, they agreed.
I stayed in contact with the woman searching for my birth Mom. I let her know when I moved to Alabama. Seven years later she was still working on finding my birth Mom when I moved to Palo Alto, California. Four years later I got a call from her telling me that she had found my (b) half brother and through him had the address of my (b) Mom. She then asked me what I wanted her to tell my birth mom. It seemed that she still was not allowed to tell me her address.
So, I gave her permission to tell her everything, including my current address.
Several weeks later my boss asked me if I wanted to move to Tucson, AZ. I agreed, thinking I would have to update my address again with the woman finding my (b)Mom.
I remember coming home from work, climbing the stairs to my apartment and reading the return address on the letter I had received. I had to read it twice! It said, Jean Hawksley, my birth mom! It also said that she lived in Tucson, AZ.
The VA transferred me here to Tucson. I immediately called Jean (the letter also gave me her telephone number. I then offered to drive over to meet her after work.
I was so excited! I drove over to her apartment complex. She said that she and Shelia, her other daughter, would meet me in the parking lot. I got to the apartment and saw who I assumed was Jean and Shelia.
I didn’t look like either of them at all.
I went into Jean’s apartment and got to know both Jean and Shelia.
They were both very nice. It seemed that Jean had been raised in an orphanage. When she got out of the orphanage she invited a bunch of men over. One of those men was my father. That man must have had red hair because neither Jean or Shelia did. Jean had no idea how I might find my (b) father.
Months later as my birthday was approaching I invited Jean out for lunch. We were sitting at lunch and I happened to mention that I had invited her for 2 reasons. The first, to thank her for not aborting me. The second, to celebrate my birth date. She looked at me and said, “you weren’t born on August 24th. Aghast, I looked at her and asked, “when was I born?” She replied September 23, 1956.” “Then why was I told my birth date was August, 24th?” I asked.
She told me that many adoption agencies would change the babies birth date to protect the biological mother. They were afraid that adopted kids would find a record of their birth in the newspaper and from that, find their mother. I smiled and said that that was exactly what I had tried to do.
After I dropped her off I immediately ran home and did my Numerology ba
It was a privilege growing up with my (a) parents. I found out that Jean end up marrying a guy named Frank Hawksley. When I was born he gave Jean the option of keeping me or keeping him but she could not have both. Jean chose him. Years later Frank committed suicide and Jean had to move. She and the kids into a mobile home.
I was the only kid who graduated from college.
I truly believe that Jean gave me an incredible gift!