I was sitting on the couch in our family room when my mom came in and handed me a manila envelope. I asked her, “What’s this?” to which she replied, “Those are all your adoption papers.” Not really knowing what to expect, I anxiously opened up the envelope as if it were Christmas morning and began reading through the documents. Keep in mind, I’d NEVER seen these documents before.
The first three documents are all in Spanish. I skim them quickly, inspecting every word, looking for any unique information about me. I can’t decipher any so I put those documents aside.
I then find three different documents that look identical to the documents I just reviewed, but they are all in English! I begin to read through each document.
The first document – my medical history. I began reading and it states the following:
· Name: Abelardo Rozo
· Date of Birth: 1/15/82
· Date of Entry into FANA: 1/21/82
· Date of Discharge: 5/3/82
Immediately, I learn that I was 6 days old when I was given up to the adoption agency. A fact I didn’t know until that moment.
The next document I read has “Social History of Child” at the top and it outlines a description of me. I chuckle has they describe my hair as “Chestnut brown” and my eye color as “caramel.” My color of skin is described as “light” and for sex, they list me as “masculine.” Again, I chuckle, look at my dad and say, “See Dad, ever since I was born, I’ve been MASCULINE!”
I then grab the next document which has the title, “FANA” Foundation for the Adoption of Abandoned Children Juridical Solicitorship.”
As I read the first five paragraphs, my eyes begin to water, and tears start to flood down my cheeks. For the first time in my life, I learn the name of my biological mother – Mary Janneth Rozo Cañón.
In that moment, it felt as if time stopped. Sound disappeared. It was as if my life was flashing before my eyes. I read further and so many missing pieces of my figurative life puzzle were being discovered for the first time in my life.
The second paragraph states, “That the natural father of the child named abandoned me and my child before its birth and that I am the only person who has legal custody of my child.”
The third paragraph then states, “That my capabilities do not allow me to attend to the spiritual and material needs of my child.”
More tears stream down my face. I now understand why I was adopted. I now learn about my biological father. My body shaked. My hands trembled. I’d never felt this overwhelming sensation of emotion before in my life.
My mom looked at me and asked, “Why are you crying?” and all I could muster was, “I don’t know. It’s just a lot to take in.” I then murmured, “I finally know why I was adopted and who my biological mother is.” My parents understood the moment and just let me be as I continued to review the documents.
I flip to the next document and it has a title of “Office of Civil Registration.” I review the document and it gives me further insight to my biological mother. It tells me her age, 25, as well as her profession, Secretary. The document also notes my place of birth and the doctor who certified the birth.
Even as I type this, I get emotional because for the first time in my life, I can answer who my biological mother is. I can answer how old she was when I was adopted. I can answer what her profession was. I have a glimpse into what took place when I was born. While I may never know who my biological father is, I know the circumstance with which he was involved. All of this information, given to me at once, it was truly an emotional experience.
I look over the remaining documents and most of them are repetitive from the previous documents. I find additional little tidbits about my adoption as well as my family. I look in the envelope to make sure I have seen everything and I find my Colombian passport, my first time seeing that. I then placed everything back in the manila envelope and sat in silence. For the next few minutes, time stood still. So many thoughts. So many questions.
I asked my parents a few questions to close out the night and as we all headed to bed, I had one question on my mind – is my biological mother, Mary Janneth Rozo Cañón, alive? I jumped into my bed, got on my laptop and turned into an FBI agent. I searched her name on Facebook. On Instagram. On Google. On Twitter. On anything I could think of. Yet, nothing came up. I’d find variations of her name but not a solid hit. Based on my quick math, she would be in her early 60s, so maybe she wasn’t on social media. I scoured the internet, in the hopes of finding anything I could about this woman but with no success. I must have stayed up until 2am that night, thinking, wondering, pondering. It then became clear what I had to do next.
I had to get my passport and I had to go to Bogotá for my first true (I’ve been to Canada) international trip.
Once I got back to Florida, I set an appointment to visit the U.S. Passport Agency and on November 23, 2019, I received my passport.
Then, on December 17, 2019, I booked a flight to go to Bogotá that would leave on February 14th, 2020. 4 days in Bogotá. 4 days in Cartagena. A trip that couldn’t come fast enough. A trip that I outline in the next blog entry – The Trip Back to the Homeland
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