Fast forward to Spring of 1983, I had turned 21 years of age that winter. My Mom and I spent the day together running some errands, shopping and lunch. During one of the errands my Mom wanted to run into a store, told me to stay in the car and while I was waiting for her return to read the papers she handed to me. It was my a copy of a birth certificate. The birth certificate had my date of birth on it but had a different name, Anna Christine. Showed a name of the Mother as Dorothy and a last name. Father: unknown. I quickly realized this was MY birth certificate. I was completely blown away as I had no idea I had a different name at one time. I also had never knew my Mother’s name and address before. I never knew my Mother’s age before and I had no clue my Father was unknown. This “Mother” never had a name to me before. Putting a name to her image in my mind made her real. Me having a different name than what I now go by (Carol) was surreal. I never knew “this woman”, Dorothy, who took the time to name me and to have me baptized. What did this mean? Did this mean she loved me? I had always assumed she did not love me, she did not want me and therefore she would never have named me. My natural Mother had named me and a beautiful name it was. In my mind my natural Mother was a silhouette of a woman, a nameless woman without a face. Now my natural Mother has a name and an age and now when I think of her and wonder I can call her Dorothy. She is real now and I have so many questions.
