I Need To Know - The Conclusion

When I had the idea to write about my adoption for the blog and eventually for the book, I was expecting to end up struggling with enough detail to make even one chapter out of it. But I soon realised that it was bigger than that. The memories I thought I'd lost forever came from nowhere and grew and grew. I can highly recommend the power of writing, it really has been amazing to me. 

Some writers say that the writing started for them after a difficult time and after gaining clarity had an urge to write. The process of writing came from a very confusing and depressing time for me. I was still in that funk when I chose to write and eagle-eyed readers may see that in my finished articles on the blog.

As the words hit the screen and over time you will notice my writing voice has been elevated bit by bit. Now I'm writing with a little humour here and there and finding more light in the words. 

Some of this is down to the process, I'm sure. A lot of it though, is down to finding the adoptee community, and then, even more amazing to me is the fact that I've found an audience. I never in my wildest dreams imagined that the ramblings of a miserable 50-year-old would be of any interest to anyone but that miserable 50-year-old. So to those people, I say thank you.

Now my writing is for me and that community. It's for us. I'm really hoping that the ‘Who's Wally?’ blog might, in some small way, help one or two other people to have their moment of clarity. Because writing this and reading others' work has certainly helped me.

If you have read the previous episodes of ‘I Need to Know’ then you will be aware of the crushing, one, and only telephone conversation I had with my birth mother back in 2003 and the journey that got me to that point. If not, you can catch up using the page links above.

OK, right, where were we? ... Oh yes … here …

… Jumping forward to 2012 now and a Facebook message that took me completely by surprise said,

“Does the name David Charles Rice mean anything to you?”

This message found my Facebook inbox while I was sitting at my dining table one Friday evening. For the life of me, I can't recall when during the year it was. I know it wasn't summer, it was too cold. “Oh my god!” I said out loud, completely shocked. My then, Partner (Yes, another one, probably all credit for that goes to Brian, again!) said “What?” “I've just had a Facebook message from someone, who is not on my friends' list, and who knows my birth name!” I squeaked. “oh!?” she said, “Let's see?” “Should I reply?” I asked. “Sounds like it could be a scam,” she said.

That did cross my mind to be fair, I thought some more. “Nobody outside of this family knows that Andy Wallis was ‘David Rice, do they?” I said. “Sod this, I’m going to reply”.

I sent back four words “Yes. That was me” 

I nervously waited. Within a few minutes, a reply pinged back. Ok so, apologies here, but this is all I can recall, so I'm not going to waste your valuable time making up stuff.

So, who was the person who was looking for ‘David’?

My sister. Yes, before I was conceived by my birth mother and the invisible man, she had 2 other children adopted. Both girls, with the eldest being 3 years my senior. Yes, I know, I have been holding on to this information until I could write it here, I'm sorry. Do you feel a bit cheated? Oh well, let's move on, it's done now.

Anne, as I will call her (not her real name, or even her birth name, now that really is anonymity isn't it?) had been looking for me ever since she received her adoption records. Of course, I already knew I had 2 half sisters because I was the youngest and so they were included in my records. Anne being the middle child, had details of our older sister, but not me, for obvious reasons. So how did she find me?

Now, this is the cool bit! If you are way ahead of me here, don't tell the rest of the group. If you recall, I placed a message on the searchline website back in 2003. That included ‘our birth mother's name in full. When Anne used that name on the ever-expanding internet, what should pop up but that message from me nearly 10 years previous? Can you imagine finding out you had a brother all this time from a search like that? 

Anne said she started looking for ‘Andy Wallis’ on Facebook and messaged all the ‘Andys’ that returned during her search. During this time I was running a Photography business as a side hustle so was heavily into social media, promoting my work and website. After a couple of ‘No’s’ she tried me, and Jackpot. There I was. Early on in my search, I thought it would be easier to find birth mum first. Then of course I hung up the old deer-stalker hat following the very disappointing phone call years ago with her. so I hadn't tried looking for either of my sisters. 

She still lived in the Derbyshire area and I was in Nottingham. We were both so excited about the prospect of her finding me, therefore we agreed to meet at 11 am at a Starbucks coffee house the next day. Choosing one as close to the middle as we could find. My partner wasn't happy about me doing this so early on after first contact but I was determined, so went along anyway.

I wasn't nervous as I traveled the 8 miles to Starbucks. However, as soon as I encroached on the carpark the nerves kicked in. The telephone conversation I had with my birth mother all those years ago went round and round in my head. What if my partner was right? What if this was a bad idea? Could I take to being let down again?

I didn't know who this Anne was, she could be anyone. I could have a pillowcase over my head, thrown in a van, and be in a shop window in Amsterdam, wearing a leather thong by the following day. I shook myself right. It's all going to be fine, plus you're not bad looking but you're no Brad Pitt Wallis, nobody is going to want to pay to see you do that, you idiot.

I arrived at the shop first. Or so I thought, Anne was sitting in the car with her husband, waiting. She told me she saw me go in and knowing it was me, followed on. We didn't look that much alike, but our eyes. it was pretty clear that we were half-siblings, neither of us was surprised. We sat and drank coffee and chatted, nervously to start with, but we soon settled more. I took my adoption records, just in case, but we didn't look at them.

It sounded like she had had a happy life with her adopted family and I reported the same for me. Sarah said she hadn't spoken to our birth mother but planned to. I told her my phone call story and said I didn't feel like I could pursue it. Over the next hour, we filled each other in on the key points of our separate lives and promised to keep in touch as we parted.

I couldn't drive home afterward, I was full of nervous excitement so I walked around the Ikea store that was close by. I needed something to calm me down and nothing knocks the wind out of your sails like being dragged along in the tide of Saturday shoppers with yellow and blue bags full of tea lights, does it?

For a good while Anne and I, true to our word had kept in touch, we started to buy each other childlike gifts for birthdays as we had missed so many. I remember one year I bought her Kerplunk. You know the straws and marbles game from the 1970s. I received a Matchbox car and a Beano comic. I have the comic framed on my kitchen wall.

Anne did meet up with our mum in the end, but I still haven't. She told me that she lies. She puts this down to the fact that she's spent so much of her life covering up her past that she doesn't know what's true and what isn't anymore. I can understand that, I guess. Our birth mum is married, but not to the man she was originally and she has had 2 boys, they must be in their 40s now. They have both given her grandchildren. I'm glad, at least for her, after the very difficult 3 years of pregnancy and relinquishment, she has been able to create a  family of her own.

A few years ago, Anne said if I wanted to meet our birth mum then she would facilitate. I thought about it for a long time and then agreed. In the end, I bottled it and didn't go. It's not right for me. I've got my parents. I don't need any more. I did have her address on a post-it note. I asked if it was her handwriting as it didn’t look right. Anne assured me it was as if she was there when it was written. That’s the point I realised that some of the 'official' adoption documents were signed on my birth mother’s behalf.

Anne also found Jane the eldest sibling, she passed on her details to me and we were able to meet. I found her hard work, and we haven't met again. You know when you just don't ‘gel’ with someone? It just goes to show that whether it's nature or nurture, it's still marmite on the bread. The one thing we did share though is a family resemblance.

Unfortunately, like me, Anne suffers from depression and anxiety issues, but hers are often quite debilitating, so we often lose touch as she and I both cut the other out, it's not personal, we've been chopping people off our Christmas card list all our adult lives. 

In short, after the journey that started for me in 1998, I now have a little bit of closure, I know more about my birth mum, through Anne, and I have two sisters, 2 brothers, 2 siblings I know nothing about. As well as nieces and nephews, 2 of which I have met and they are both lovely.

Oh, one more thing… Yes, in a Colombo way!

Anne told me recently that when I was born her adoptive mum was given the chance to adopt me too. This was shocking to hear. And we were both a little saddened by it. Her mum had to decline as she didn't feel that she was financially able to take another child on. We had two chances to grow up together and still lived apart for all these years.

Image: © Andy Wallis