Pword: WRTG
"Fill In The Blank"
I genuinely hate the doctor’s office.
It’s not just because of the irritating and offensive incandescent lighting or
the combination smell of mothballs and sanitizer; the main reason I loathe the
doctor’s office is because of the redundant paperwork. No matter how many
doctor’s you will see in this lifetime there will always be mind numbing paper
work. On this particular occasion I was sitting in the foyer of my
pediatrician’s office on a poorly put together Ikea sofa filling out yet
another form.
What is you name? Date of birth? Are you
Married? Are you allergic to any medication? Have you had any recent surgeries?
Are you currently on any medications?
Sarah Rose. October eight, nineteen
ninety two, and no.
Moving on to the fill in the blank
portion of the exam; describe your family’s medical history.
Are your parents healthy? Does your
family have a history of high blood pressure? Does anyone in your family suffer
from hereditary diseases? Cancer?
It's too bad I can’t answer any of those
questions my doctor would probably find them helpful. It’s difficult being
adopted. There’s a lot of critical information I just don’t know. Like what if
I’m predisposed to breast cancer? Should I be more conscious of my blood pressure?
Am I more at risk for heart disease? Should I take iron supplements? Does it
matter? Am I fine? Will I be healthy? Is it important for me to know? Do I need
to know? For now I leave that section blank.
It use to really bother me that I didn’t
know anything about my biological parents. It felt like there was a massive
void in my identity. I felt like if I understood more about my biological
parents that would somehow resolve the void I felt.
Why did they give me up? Do they regret
the choice they made? Was it her choice? Do I have any other siblings? Where
are they now? Are they alive? Do they miss me? Do they ever think about me?
I haven’t felt that way in a while. I
don’t think that void I use to feel represented something empty. I think it
just represents a vast range of possibilities. The openness of not knowing has probably
shaped my identity just as much as the solidness of knowing would have. My
anxiety and restlessness about my identity no longer needs to be reassured by
strangers who I’ve never shared a sentence with.
To this day I still have friends that
can’t believe that I have no desire to find, what they refer to as, my ‘real’
parents.
Don’t you ever wonder what they’re like?
Have you ever tried to contact them? Aren’t you curious? Doesn’t it bother you?
Do you resent them?
To which I explain to them I know my real
parents they’ve put up with my shit for 21 years unconditionally and to be
honest I find more comfort with not knowing the status of my biological
parents.
What would I be like if I wasn’t adopted?
Would I be as loved? Would I have had as many amazing opportunities? Would I be
here? Would I be happy?
It leaves a space for idealization.
Sometimes it’s just important to acknowledge that you don’t know, or you don’t,
and be okay with it. There will always be a part of my identity that I won’t be
able to fill in but I really wouldn’t want it any other way.
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