Member-only story
THE NARRATIVE ARC
My Grandmother Pretended Her Adopted Granddaughter Didn’t Exist
The women in my family were ashamed of their pregnancies
I discovered my family tree recently. My original one. My long-lost biological one. The excavation unearthed roots riddled with shame and secrecy. It wasn’t such a surprise. I’m adopted, after all. I always knew I was secret fruit of someone’s family tree.
But, aren’t all family trees at least a bit blighted?
My adoptive lineage had its share of angst and unspokens. Most dissipated with time. Elders often offered full disclosure in their golden years, sometimes with a wistful “it was a different time” sigh, and time, they say, heals all wounds.
So, I approached this new orchard with equal parts trepidation and optimism. Five decades had passed since severance. I wanted to duct-tape my broken branch right back on, even more so once I heard about my long-lost grandmother, Grace.
A bit of backstory: In 2019, I discovered Illinois had amended its law regarding adoptee’s access to their original birth certificates (OBCs). Initially sealed in supposed perpetuity, a portion of my birth records were now legally available to me. In infant adoption, in Illinois, our records are locked away and a new…
