Bonnie Parsons

 Marc Mercier and I are first cousins. Our birth fathers were brothers. Many people might say,

"And so what?—Your fathers were brothers and so you're first cousins."

For Marc and me, learning that our birth fathers were brothers was the breakthrough we needed to identify them—and to find our own identities. We became search angels for each other. In time, our search was successful.

 We also learned about our paternal families, past and present.  

In a few weeks, Paul and I are going to visit Marc in Ottawa.

We will also meet Carol, another first cousin!

 

Please enjoy this story about my dear first cousin and friend Marc, updated from my May 2019 blog.

 

The Ever-Important Attitude of Gratitude

 

 One wintry day in February 1960, an unmarried young woman named Rose gave birth to a healthy, handsome baby boy. She named him Louis. Rose and her family lived in Verdun, a borough of Montreal. Rose could not provide for her son. She had no choice but to relinquish her parental rights. The infant was adopted by a French-speaking couple who gave him the name Marc.  They raised Marc in a French-speaking community in Welland, Ontario. Welland is located on the Niagara Peninsula between Lake Erie and Lake Ontario, barely 26 miles from Buffalo, New York.

 

Marc had a happy childhood. He lived with his parents and his brother and had a close extended family. In his career, he specialized in Information Technology (IT) and worked for a major company in Ottawa. Over time Marc's curiosity about his birth family grew and he decided to get his DNA tested. FamilyTreeDNA posted his results sometime around 2010, I believe. Unfortunately, he did not receive a high match for years and was therefore not checking his results regularly.

 

I had tested only with AncestryDNA until a friend recommended I branch out and test with other companies, especially because AncestryDNA was not yet available in Canada. Having been born in Montreal, I realized she had a great point.

 

In 2016, I tested with FamilyTreeDNA, Marc's company. My results came back with our high DNA match!  I was elated, shocked and mystified—who is this person? While I waited for Marc's response to my email, I asked folks in Facebook's DNA Detectives and Free Canada Adoption/Family Search and Reunion about our match. Everyone agreed that Marc's birth father and my birth father were brothers—we were first cousins!

 

It was a Hallelujah moment! We were both very excited. We'd found the needle in the haystack—our shared DNA. While Marc lives in Ottawa, I was living on Long Island, New York and through DNA, we learned that our birth fathers grew up together in Verdun! It was magical. Marc speaks French and English which turned out to be invaluable as we searched for our birth fathers' identities in the Montreal area.

 

Adoption searches are completely unpredictable. It is best to limit one's expectations just in case the results are disappointing or worse, devastating. Marc's and my DNA match was the breakthrough we needed to find our birth families. However, my gratitude exceeds our DNA match—Marc is friendly and funny, down-to-earth, kind and smart. Everything that intimidated me in our search became a simple to-do task for Marc. I kept telling him we'd still be struggling if he hadn't followed the leads the way he did. We became partners in the search for our identities, determined to unlock the secrets in our closed adoption files. Today we message and text, FaceTime and talk on the phone for hours. He has visited us here and we got together in Montreal back in 2018 to meet our newly found biological family.  Together we did it! I am forever grateful.

 

 

 

 

 "Hi, Snoopy. I was just thinking about you. Thanks for calling.

Yes, I'll be sure to pick up milk-bones for you."

Snoopy and I are in sync. But what does that mean?

 

The article, What Is Brain Synchrony? explains: ". . . when we think, feel and act in response to others, patterns of activity in our brains align. Scientists call this phenomenon interbrain synchrony. The extent of synchrony indicates the strength of a relationship, with brainwave patterns matching particularly well between close friends or an effective teacher and his/her students." (Denworth 2023) Or pets and owners, of course.

 

Years ago, my children and I were on the thruway, driving to visit friends. Quite suddenly, I became overwhelmed, feeling something was happening and I had no idea what it was. I was distressed enough to pull over until I felt ok to drive. That evening, my parents called and told me that my Aunt Ellie had passed away that afternoon.

 

Another example of synchrony involves my birth mother. She was required to care for me for six weeks at the Catherine Booth Hospital in Montreal following my birth. I have no doubt that six weeks was amply time for our brainwave patterns to match particularly well. I began my search for her in May 1983. For the next couple of months, I read everything I could find about adoption and searching. All I could think about was my birth mother and finding her. And I wondered why I was so troubled by these feelings. In 1988, Paul and I found her obituary on microfilm at the Toronto Reference Library. She had died July 21, 1983.

 

Finally, on a positive note, I love it when I am in sync with my now-adult children.  Synchrony does not require proximity. It's a joy to be in sync, any time, any place.

 

Synchronicity is a broader phenomenon than synchrony, though the connections we experience in both are invisible. "Synchronicity . . . refers to meaningful coincidences that occur in our lives, events that seem to be connected in a way that goes beyond mere chance. These synchronistic events often leave us with a sense of awe and wonder, as if there is a deeper meaning or purpose behind them." (Yusim 2024)

 

An adoption caseworker in Montreal told me that they see highly meaningful coincidences frequently in searches and reunions. In fact, I only became familiar with synchronicity during my search for my birth parents.

 

In the Spring of 1988 at the Toronto Reference Library, I learned my birth mother's name, address, and phone number. The next day, I summoned all my courage and called the number.  John, my birth mother's brother, and I talked for about a half hour. John was calm and very kind. He explained that Joan died from breast cancer following years of surgeries and treatments. She was only 53. John told me that he was her caregiver throughout her illness. He was devoted to Joan and never expressed judgment or shame for her pregnancy or relinquishing her baby. That phone call was the first direct contact with my original family since infancy. I had actually talked to someone who knew Joan!

 

The story continues: "I know this is silly, but didn't Joan work for the phone company? That call never appeared on my bill! Oh, how I wanted to see that phone call on my bill. It would be the written proof that I had talked to Joan's family. I was dying to see it and pay it! I even called the phone company. They had no record of the call. John told me that Joan worked for Northern Electric for thirty-four years. She was a hard worker, well respected, and active in the Northern Electric service organization, the Pioneers Club." 

 

This part of my story and similar synchronistic events are described in Chapter 7 of Young Love - An Adoptee's Memoir. I was in awe, wondering about the deeper meaning. 

 

"Synchronicity is a phenomenon in which people interpret two separate—and seemingly unrelated—experiences as being meaningfully intertwined, even though there is no evidence that one led to the other or that the two events are linked in any other causal way." (Weitzman 2024) I called Joan's home. John and I chatted for about a half hour. I never received the bill for the long-distance phone call. Joan worked for the telephone company her entire career. Clearly, there was synchrony between John and Joan, and Joan and me. However, I'm left wondering how I wasn't charged for the phone call! 

 

Synchrony and synchronicity highlight the connections we have to each other. They are often called magical. They make us pause and appreciate our close ties with family and friends.

 

I think I'll call Snoopy and tell him I have the milk-bones.

Oh, here he is already! How did he know?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Welcome back to my adoption world.

Since I began writing my memoir, my goal was to support people impacted by adoption. I wanted to use my story to verify key issues and say, "It's ok to search for your birth family. You will have happy moments and crushing moments. But, if it is what you need to do, work hard and never give up." 

 

Young Love - An Adoptee's Memoir tells my story. It was published four years ago—I can't believe it! My plan is to revisit a few of the conundrums I faced and connections that became so important to me as the story unraveled. Many of these conundrums and connections continue to challenge me today. 

 

It is important to recognize that the lives of adoptees vary as much as the lives of children who live with their biological parents. It is also important to recognize how our culture and laws and technology have changed over the decades since I was a child.

 

I speak from my experiences. But I read a lot and I understand the underlying feelings adoptees share, regardless of their circumstances. Finally, I hope my story encourages discussion about adoption issues and provides support for fellow adoptees.

 

Identity

We develop a sense of who we are at a young age. Adopted or not, our early experiences form our identity. Mom and dad were my parents. Simple as that. They knew all about needing and wanting to adopt, and that my brother was their biological child. But in my world, they were my parents, we were a family. I didn't need another set of parents and I loved my family. 

 

"But who is your real mother?" Then, the agency referred to mom and dad as my adoptive parents. What? I want people to know that my mom and dad were my only parents. I stress this because it defines a real adoption issue. We were relinquished as infants and raised in the only family we knew. Our identity formed in childhood is who we are, even after searching. Real parents, birth parents, adoptive parents are meaningless terms to young children.

 

Now, in the adoption world, I have searched and I know who my birth parents were. I have connected with half siblings, nieces, nephews, and cousins. I have a biological family tree. I love my newly found family. I've learned about my inherited traits, medical history, and shared interests. We continue to get acquainted and visit each other. Of course, they know and I know that I'm still that little girl who grew up in Ste. Anne de Bellevue, on the west end of Montreal Island with parents who adopted me.

 

This is an adoption conundrum—I grew up happily without my biological family. I had my parents and brother and sister. Later as a young mom, I felt a need to find my birth family. That need and the joy in finding my biological family doesn't change the identity I formed with my parents and family. In fact, my identity is enhanced by everything I have learned. And I am grateful for the support I received in my search.