Adoption itself is an entity cloaked in secrecy and lies. Original names and dates and places are blotted out and new identities are issued without hesitation. Agencies (who should and often do know better) and Adoptive parents who are none-the-wiser to the long-term ramifications are eased into believing that keeping the whole truth secret is best for the child.
Secrecy for the sake of comfort is par for the course more often than not.
Knowing this, I don't know why, then, I am still so surprised and betrayed by my birthmother's lies. I have come to terms with my adoptive family's discomfort with my own adoption and reunion, and thus have come to understand and forgive them for the secrecy they forced upon the subject. Coming to terms with my birthmother's lies and secrecy for the sake of her comfort, however, seems impossible. Ten years of reunion seems to me to be plenty of time to mention two siblings, also placed for adoption after me. Ten years gave her 88,000 hours to take out a piece of paper and confess, and help me understand her and let me know that there are others in the world who share my blood. Of every betrayal adoption has inflicted upon me, hers is the most devastating.
I don't know how to respond except with silence. I wish that cutting her off hurt her as much as it hurts me.
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