By Laura Marie Scoggins

I am an adult adoptee writing in support of SB352 coming up for a vote on Tuesday. I cannot stress how important this vote is to 350,000 Hoosier adoptees who have waited a lifetime to obtain their records and original birth certificate. You have your original birth certificate. It’s my civil right to have mine as well.

Back in 1999 I took advantage of the current law by contacting Catholic Charities in Evansville the agency that handled my adoption. I completed the paperwork and they acted as an intermediary to see if my birth mother would be interested in contact. I must point out that I got very lucky and their search for my mother was simple. It’s not so simple for most searches. The adoptee needs to be allowed access to their own information in order to control their own search and not be at the mercy of the agency as to wheter or not their search is successful.

I was one of the lucky ones because they simply called the number they had on file and my grandmother still lived there. Unfortunately my mother had already died of breast cancer and I was too late to ever meet her. My family was estatic to be found and welcomed me with open arms. Unfortunately my mother is not here to speak for herself, but during my reunion I was told she had spent my whole life knowing that I would one day come looking for her. In fact she told my brothers about me before her death so they would be prepared. She was never promised lifelong secrecy and did not expect her identy to remain a secret forever.

I cannot stress to you enough the importance of the discovery of my mother’s breast cancer. Upon learning this news at my next doctor visit a baseline mammogram was scheduled. I was only 38 and too young for mammograms. The scan revealed a spot that required a biopsy. Thankfully it was benign, but finding my mother saved my life because this would not have been found for several more years.

Passing this bill could literally save lives!

It was a cold January day with snow on the ground and ice on the roads when I drove to the small rural Indiana town where my birth mom lived. After 36 years I finally knew her name. I had the address where she grew up and where my grandmother still lived. A two year search with fake names, road blocks, and closed doors culminated in this moment.

My first stop was the local library where I piled old yearbooks high on the table to look for photos of my mom and her siblings. The first book I grabbed was from 1965 because I knew that was the year she graduated. I flipped the pages, scanned last names, and ran my finger down the page until there she was. It was the first time I looked into my mother’s face. I just sat there staring into her eyes. My eyes. My face. She looked so much like me at that age. It was just crazy. Finally, after a lifetime without mirrors reflecting back at me, I was able to see myself in someone else’s face.

One by one I opened the books until I had senior pictures of my mom, her two brothers, and seven sisters spread across the table staring back at me. It was like seeing kaleidoscope pieces of me falling into place.

I left the library with a photo copy of my mom’s senior picture and headed for the cemetery where she was buried. As I got out of my car and looked around the cemetery, I began to realize what a bad day I had chosen to make this journey. There was snow on the ground, and the headstones were piled high.

Walking up and down the aisles brushing snow off one headstone at a time I knew it would take forever to find her. My walk turned into a jog. Breathing became faster and harder, and I could see my breath in the cold air. Tears formed in my eyes, ran down my face, and froze on my cheeks. Suddenly, I stopped and looked around. It was a gray overcast day and the snow had begun to lightly fall again. I yelled at the top of my lungs “where are you” then turned and behind me saw a heart shaped stone. Every other stone in that cemetery was covered with snow, except hers. Amazing!

The scene played out in slow motion like something out of a movie. It was a surreal feeling. I walked over to her grave and dropped to my knees in the snow. The cold and wet seeped through my jeans as I kneeled there sobbing my heart out. I had found my mom.

There are no words to describe what a lifetime of questions and years of searching feels like when it leads to a grave. My purpose in life has become making sure no other adoptee ever has to know that kind of pain. I have an archaic adoption system of closed adoption laws to thank for the fact that I was unable to find my mother before she died.

You have the power to make sure this never happens again! You have the power to make sure adoptees have medical information that could save lives! You have the power to put an end to the secrecy and lies of our archaic adoption system and create of new system of truth, honesty, and open records.

Thank you for listening to my story, and I sincerly hope you will vote in favor of 350,000 Hoosier adoptees on Tuesday by supporting SB352!

Sincerely,

Laura Scoggins

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