Ouradopt guestblogger Jeffrey A. Hancoc discovered he was adopted when he was 41 years old. Apparently, his family never wanted him to know. However, when he requested his birth certificate from his mother, several times without receiving it, the truth was finally told. The truth led to quite a family drama. He was born 4-18-1965 somewhere in Buffalo, New York

Read Part 1 of Jeff’s story.

Read Part 2 of Jeff’s story.

Read Part 3 of Jeff’s story.

At the same time, so many more things make sense to me now. Odd little experiences over the years that now appear crystal clear. I understand comments made to me by the mean children at school and on the bus so many years ago. Comments, questions, and peculiar things said to me at church, family picnics, and around town. Also, why I was never accepted or included in family plans, or invited to join clubs or groups in school or especially at church; I was raised in a very strict and evangelical faith by uneducated, blue-collar, “God fearing” parents. I always felt I had one of only two destinies: 1) Become the next town drunk and fulfill the prophesy of mom’s church colleagues, or 2) surprise them all by following my older “brother’s” footsteps. Neither destiny felt comfortable to me. When Star Wars came out, I felt like Luke Skywalker. Was I to commit to the “Dark Side” or be a good little adoptee?

While I chose neither path to anyone’s particular predictions, at least I know now why during my childhood and teen years I felt people were always watching me, waiting for me to make some terrible life decision. It was because they really were expecting me to! 

Before April 2007 I never understood the stigma of adopted children in an evangelical culture. My adopted friend Lori had shared her experience with me long before I was to discover my own fate. She explained to me how many of them look upon us as bastards produced through sin. How in these peoples minds we’re destined to go the same path as those alleged “sinners” who produced us. I had no reason at the time to suspect anything, as I knew I *wasn’t* adopted because my folks said so! At the same time my inner soul did not agree with their preaching. Now as an adult, people I long ago left behind in my mom’s church are stunned that I am not a druggie, alcoholic, father to countless unplanned pregnancies, or a convicted criminal in spite of a) being adopted, and b) abandoning the evangelical/fundamentalist way of worship some 20+ years ago. 

I began my search within an hour of discovery. So many months have passed, and I have no more idea now than I did then as to who I am. My non-id is non-existent; so I've been told by those in authority. While my search is stalled, I have put my energies into assisting others search and into the lobby for unsealed records. 

It’s more than a year since my discovery. I am grateful for the friends I can share stories and experiences with on MySpace and Facebook. I am grateful to my wife, her family, and our kids for their understanding. I’m grateful to my support group in Rochester, NY. I’m also grateful to that nameless, faceless person who gave me away in 1965, for whatever her reason in signing me away. I think of her everyday. I hope to find her, meet her, and thank her someday face-to-face.

PhotoCredit: by mode.