Happy Birthday to my lost daughter

Jane

Today is my lost daughter, Rebecca's, 50th birthday.  She was born on a Thursday, like today, a week before Thanksgiving. She lives half a continent away and I won't be sharing this day with her. I do share my life with her and that is a blessing.

We re-connected 19 years ago, a week after her 31st birthday, when she found me. Until then, I was left to wonder about who she was. Perhaps a celebrity, a movie star, a CEO, or in my worst thoughts, a drug addict living on the street. Sometimes she was a phantom; sometimes I thought maybe she didn't exist at all.

We met two months later in January, 1998 in Chicago where she lived at the time and coincidentally where I grew up. Until then, my life had been divided in two parts, pre-Rebecca and post-Rebecca. So while after her birth, my life went on, law school, marriage, three wonderful daughters, a career, a part of me was stuck in the events of 1966 which led to her birth. With our reunion, my life took a third turn, embarking on a new road, rocky in places, but ultimately rewarding.

DMC: Room for two mothers in his life

Jane, DMC, and Jeanette Roberts at AAC 3-8-07

I met the rapper, Darryl McDaniels ( DMC)  in 2007 when I attended the annual conference of the American Adoption Congress in Boston with my good friend and fellow first mother Jeanette Roberts. In truth I had never heard of DMC and knew nothing about rap music. I learned he was a late discovery adoptee and an advocate for opening records.

I bought his just published book Ten Ways Not to Commit Suicide: A Memoir because I wanted to learn more about his adoption experience and as way of thanking him for standing up for adoption reform and taking the time to pose with me and Jeanette in a picture. I'm glad I did.