“Google it” is such a common phrase, more or some than others.
I am always hesitant posting about situations with family or friends, because I don’t know who among them reads my blog. I try to not mention it to people I interact with in real life. I have a friend, whom I’ll call Gigi. I am nearly certain she is unaware of my blog, so I feel safe posting this.
Gigi is a very talented woman with creative and artistic abilities. At one time were neighbors and then we both moved but have kept in touch. We get together at lest once a year. I feel fortunate if we can get together more often.
Although we have been friends for many years and have a special relationship, I have rarely talked with her about my son. Before the whole situation unraveled, she was actually the ONLY person, outside of immediate family, who knew about him. When I got pictures in the early years, I was so proud and Gigi was the only person I could show them off to.
Other than when a batch of pictures arrived once in awhile, we didn’t talk about it. I am not blaming her, I as still in complete denial. When I would talk about it, it didn’t make me feel better. Often it frustrated me more.
I was visiting Gigi last weekend. We were catching up since the last visit. She was showing me her amazing 3-D appliqué quilts. We were in the kitchen and she was talking about work, and how one guy didn’t show up for awhile. She asked a co-worker about him. The co-worker suggested Gigi Google the guy’s name.
And so she did and was stunned to find the guy’s mug shot and police report from another state. This was a new concept to Gigi, to Google a person’s name. She told me she Googled herself, but there was nothing out the. Then asked if I ever Googled myself? “Yes,” I replied. She asked if there is anything out there on me? “Yes,” I answered. “Oh! What’s out there?” she asked. Then I changed the subject to one of her mini quilts I just noticed hanging in the kitchen.
What is out there on me is an on-line news article from several years ago. I had no idea the reporter was going to print my name! I did not disagree with the article, but I would have preferred to keep the adoption a private matter. It is not what I would want to pop up if I am ever job-hunting and a potential employer Googles me.
I didn’t want to get in it with Gigi that night, so I steered the ship a different direction.
Fast forward several days.
I called Gigi we talked about a big event going on in her life. Then after she was all talked out about it, she informed me that she Googled my name. “Did you find anything out there?” I asked her.
“Yes,” she said. She found and read the article. The article includes stories from several original moms the reporter interviewed.
“I found a website that talks about what happened to you and another woman. How you were talked out of keeping your babies.” Her next words completely surprised me. “I get it now. I used to think you were just upset because you couldn’t see your son. But now I realize that it was because of what happened to you. You could have kept your son. You and your husband have been married all these years and you still like each other. I didn’t understand, but I get it now.”
We talked a bit more about adoption stuff, like the coercion and how it is still going on. I talked about money and how profit is the motivation.
Near the end of our conversation, I thanked her for acknowledging that and let her know how much I appreciated it.