Sarah Hillary Murphy
That was my name for 20 days.
Today marks my second birthday.
I was adopted by Carol and Joe Bradley on this day in 1974. My life has never been the same since that moment and I would not trade it for one second. I was given a gift from my birth-mother, one that has sometimes been a burden for both of us.
My mother used to tell me the story of my arrival every year and I would celebrate with my family, again, for yet another birthday.
Obviously, my parents could not have kids and back in 1974 fertility treatments were not where they are today. I do not think my mother would have done all those shots and craziness if it was available, she had a hard enough time going through the tests that concluded they could not have kids.
My parents wanted a family, my dad is the oldest of three brothers and my mother has a younger brother. With all these boys around a girl was what they wanted and much needed. In 1974 you took what you got and while they said they would be happy with either sex, they wanted a girl.
And the wait began ... for about a year.
On September 8th in the afternoon my mother got the call. The adoption agency, Brightside, said they had a baby girl and if my parents wanted her they could come and get her tomorrow. My mother had nothing for a baby, nothing. No nesting had happened. No clothes had been washed. And in less than 24 hours she would be a new parent with the responsibility of a baby.
My mom went to work.
She called all her friends for help and any baby items they had. They arrived by the carload with everything a baby could need for the first week. A highchair, a rocker, a bassinet, a changing table, clothes, diapers, formula, food for my parents, everything.
And my mom crammed 9 months of nesting into 20 hours. She used to remind me that she was up scrubbing the kitchen floor at 3 in the morning just to make sure everything was clean. Not that I was crawling at 20 days but she wanted everything just right for her new baby girl.
September 9th arrived and everything was in order.
Off they went, my mom and dad, to become parents. That to me is so weird after being in labor for almost 19 hours each time, I can't wrap my head around the fact that poof ... you are now parents. In walked the social worker with the baby girl and tried to hand her to my mom, who could not hold me.
She was too scared.
There was my dad who just scooped the baby right out of the social workers arms and welcomed me into the Bradley clan. He never blinked, ever. My mom was quick realize I would not break and she too held me for a long time (20 years to be exact). And my dad has not let go in all of my 35 years.
I was named Erin Glenday Bradley, today.
It was not official for another year, when we all sat in the Judge's chambers and I played with his name plate on his desk. He signed the paper making me legally theirs.
I still can't get my original birth certificate with the name Sarah on it, even with all the players in my family present.
The irony here is that I helped write and pass the law allowing adoptees' original birth certificates to be obtained. We had to put a gap into the law in order to alleviate some legislators concerns about the ramifications of these open birth certificates and the impact on the birth-mothers. The gap starts on July 17, 1974 and goes until January 1, 2008.
I missed getting my original birth certificate by 34 days.
That was and still is a personal sacrifice.
My parents had an opportunity to adopt a baby boy a year after me. But, as they say, I was so perfect that they could not imagine any other baby being as good and they were happy with just the three of us. I sometimes wished they had adopted him. So, he too, could know their love, as parents.
Happy Birthday, Daddy and
Thanks Mom, everything was just right.
