I met my oldest biological cousin in person, for the first time, several weeks ago. He’s a doctor and for the last few months has been a visiting resident at one of the most prestigious medical institutes in the United States – the Mayo Clinic.
He arrived in Seattle on a Friday night at the beginning of July. He’d been planning a visit out since his arrival to Minnesota from Iraq the month before, so I had time to clear my schedule for the next day and a half to show him around the city and spend some quality time over the weekend.
The night of his arrival, I parked my car in the airport lot and walked inside to pick him up at baggage claim. I was nervous, and had spent the last few hours thinking about everything from what I would wear to what would happen if he didn’t like me. I’d even called my dad who, like most encouraging parents, told me to “just be myself”.
I don’t think meeting birth relatives in person could ever be an experience devoid of emotion, apprehension, or nerves. But when I saw my cousin across the carousel, I immediately began to feel emotional. That’s him, I thought. He’s here, this is real.
The next few days went well, although probably not as well as I had hoped. We had some wonderful conversations and it turns out that we have a lot in common. On the other hand, my dress flew up over an airshaft, Marilyn Monroe style, I brought him to a Mediterranean restaurant with only two hilal options (not even thinking about food restrictions), and to top it off, we spent several hours at a beach full of bikini-clad Seattleites (not the best choice, in retrospect).
As an adoptee in the process of reconnecting with birth relatives, the stakes feel very high each time I meet someone new. Though I am blessed to have many whom I call family, I would never want to do anything to jeopardize my relationships with any of them. Family, no matter what kind, is precious to me. The pressure is on. And so I worry – about doing something wrong, about being culturally insensitive, about losing the potential of a relationship with people whom I’ve always wanted to know.
And while in the weeks following my cousin’s visit I’ve thought a lot about whether I said or did the right thing, I’ve found peace in the realization that there is no “right” or “wrong” when it comes to the process of reconnecting.
This week, my cousin returned safely to Iraq. He didn’t reject me, even if I had to act like a bit of a fool to cope with the pressure I was putting on myself. And while my goofy antics may have served a purpose in the moment, ultimately I learned a bigger lesson about family, about connection, and about authenticity. It isn’t an easy process, but I feel privileged to be going through it. More about that soon.
placed 
I have talked on the phone with my mother’s sister and my half-brother (who was also adopted) but have not yet met them face-to-face. That will happen in good time since, for me, it had been the lies told to me and the Not Really Knowing that was disturbing. As for my father, as yet unidentified/ unidentifiable, that will be an entirely different matter.
Wow, thank you for your comment Brent. I really appreciate what you’ve said, and I think you bring up an excellent point about self-care throughout reconnection. Oftentimes, there is an assumption that’s made that when adoptees reconnect with birth relatives, that will be the end of the process. In other words, that that in itself will resolve any misgivings there were about one’s experience as adoptee or wounding from the past. I think it’s important to acknowledge that it is absolutely a process, that you are entitled to take time, and to have boundaries, and that reconnection is often much more complex than most (who haven’t experienced it) would assume. Of course there are a variety of different thoughts and feelings that come up in that process. The important thing I think to reiterate is that we as adoptees have the right to those thoughts and feelings. (Thanks again for your comment!)