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Authors: Jessica Gibson
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know about, so she did not take the certificate when her mother offered it to her. Her mother lay the adoption certificate on the table, and moved to pick up another piece of paper from the stack. Mia seemed to wake from a trance, as her brain slowly clicked into gear and figured out that the adoption certificate may actually be all that she needed.
“ Actually - can I … could I look at that please? ” she asked
“ Of course, honey ” her mother passed the certificate over to her, and, unseen to Mia, exchanged a glance with her father. The both knew what Mia was looking for on the certificate, and they also knew that she would not find it.
Mia quickly found out too, and the disappointment showed on her face. It couldn't be that simple, could it? She had hoped, foolishly she realized, that her mother’s name might have been on the adoption certificate. Something stating that she had given up her rights to her child. A starting point for finding out who she was. But there was nothing. The guardian surrendering their rights to her and signing all parental rights over to the people who had raised her was listed as a social worker.
“ Is there a birth certificate, amongst that stuff? ” she asked miserably, but with little hope.
“ I ’ m sorry sweetheart, but no - we don ‘ t have anything with your mother or your father ‘ s names on. We don ’ t know if your birth was ever registered - but in all likelihood it wasn ’ t. You were only a few hours old when you were found. ”
It was pretty much as Mia had expected, but for one tiny moment, she had dared to hope. Miserably, and slightly disheartened, she turned to the other things her mother was pulling from the box.
“ What are those? ” she asked, leaning forward to peer over the faded and yellowing clippings.
“ Newspaper cuttings, about you. ” Her mother offered the small pile to her, and she took them dully. She doubted that these would hold any information of value, but supposed she ought to look at them.
The first was a front page news story, headlined “Baby Found Outside Local Church”. The information contained within it was basic, and pretty much what Mia already knew from what her parents had told her. A newborn baby girl was found abandoned on the steps of a church, the community was in shock, the child was being taken care of and seemed healthy. Nothing too detailed, but then, Mia supposed that since she had been found in the early hours of the morning, and became front page news the same day, that they did not have much time to gather details to report.
The clippings in the pile were in ascending chronological order, and Mia leafed through them with increasing curiosity. It was quite strange, to be reading details of her own life, and to know that thousands of other people in the city had read the same story and knew just as much about her beginnings as she knew herself. For a few days, she had been the front page news story - “Church appeals for information on abandoned tot”, “Police and Church appeal for mother of Church baby to come forward”, and other headlines in the same vein. Afterwards, she was just a column further in, with titles such as “ ‘Please come forward, we want to help you‘ - impassioned plea from pastor to mother of dumped baby”, “Police still have no leads on abandoned tot”. The columns got progressively smaller and then fizzled out altogether - the final report was entitled “Happy ending for abandoned baby” which was a report on her adoption.
The final cutting in the pile was a small scrap cut out from the personal announcements section, and it was a birthday greeting announcing her first birthday.
“ Happy 1 st birthday to our little Angel, Mia”
A lump formed in her throat then, and she felt tears begin to gather in her eyes. Again, she felt a twinge of guilt, as though she was betraying these people who had clearly loved her a great deal from the very beginning. If they
“ Actually - can I … could I look at that please? ” she asked
“ Of course, honey ” her mother passed the certificate over to her, and, unseen to Mia, exchanged a glance with her father. The both knew what Mia was looking for on the certificate, and they also knew that she would not find it.
Mia quickly found out too, and the disappointment showed on her face. It couldn't be that simple, could it? She had hoped, foolishly she realized, that her mother’s name might have been on the adoption certificate. Something stating that she had given up her rights to her child. A starting point for finding out who she was. But there was nothing. The guardian surrendering their rights to her and signing all parental rights over to the people who had raised her was listed as a social worker.
“ Is there a birth certificate, amongst that stuff? ” she asked miserably, but with little hope.
“ I ’ m sorry sweetheart, but no - we don ‘ t have anything with your mother or your father ‘ s names on. We don ’ t know if your birth was ever registered - but in all likelihood it wasn ’ t. You were only a few hours old when you were found. ”
It was pretty much as Mia had expected, but for one tiny moment, she had dared to hope. Miserably, and slightly disheartened, she turned to the other things her mother was pulling from the box.
“ What are those? ” she asked, leaning forward to peer over the faded and yellowing clippings.
“ Newspaper cuttings, about you. ” Her mother offered the small pile to her, and she took them dully. She doubted that these would hold any information of value, but supposed she ought to look at them.
The first was a front page news story, headlined “Baby Found Outside Local Church”. The information contained within it was basic, and pretty much what Mia already knew from what her parents had told her. A newborn baby girl was found abandoned on the steps of a church, the community was in shock, the child was being taken care of and seemed healthy. Nothing too detailed, but then, Mia supposed that since she had been found in the early hours of the morning, and became front page news the same day, that they did not have much time to gather details to report.
The clippings in the pile were in ascending chronological order, and Mia leafed through them with increasing curiosity. It was quite strange, to be reading details of her own life, and to know that thousands of other people in the city had read the same story and knew just as much about her beginnings as she knew herself. For a few days, she had been the front page news story - “Church appeals for information on abandoned tot”, “Police and Church appeal for mother of Church baby to come forward”, and other headlines in the same vein. Afterwards, she was just a column further in, with titles such as “ ‘Please come forward, we want to help you‘ - impassioned plea from pastor to mother of dumped baby”, “Police still have no leads on abandoned tot”. The columns got progressively smaller and then fizzled out altogether - the final report was entitled “Happy ending for abandoned baby” which was a report on her adoption.
The final cutting in the pile was a small scrap cut out from the personal announcements section, and it was a birthday greeting announcing her first birthday.
“ Happy 1 st birthday to our little Angel, Mia”
A lump formed in her throat then, and she felt tears begin to gather in her eyes. Again, she felt a twinge of guilt, as though she was betraying these people who had clearly loved her a great deal from the very beginning. If they
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