Story #73 - Mimi, Montréal QC (CANADA) / New-Orleans LA (USA) - On Raising a Child During a Pandemic, Black Lives Matter, Mothering After Adoption & Finding Our Ancestors
Mimi's story appeared on the site exactly two years ago. She talked about being adopted and what it meant to transmit heritage to her mixed daughter.
I reached out to her recently to know how she was doing, and as always, her eloquence and honesty blew me away. She spoke of social responsibilities, politics, raising caring children in the time of COVID19, as well as her quest to find her biological parents.
Spoiler alert: she did.
I left for NOLA mid-February with my daughter for twelve days to celebrate Mardi Gras. My husband is from there, and I've developed deep ties to the city and the community. But Mardi Gras by yourself with a preschooler is exhausting. When I came back, the stay-at-home order was issued. I haven't had one day off since.
She'll be four in July and demands constant attention. She won't play by herself, and when I try to work, she'll climb on me, saying, "I don't want you to work!"
I'm trying not to be too strict because I get that this situation is also stressful for her. But at this age, you know… you give up one inch, they take three miles.
It's tricky to explain a pandemic to a kid without scaring her. I'm trying to simplify everything to the max, but last night, she started talking about germs in her bed when she sleeps and how she's scared to wake up. I told her that it would pass, that we need to wash our hands more often, and that we'll be able to see our friends again when people won't be so sick.
But she's smart, and she connected the dots: we can't see our loved-ones because everyone's sick, so the germs are to blame.
She asked me the other day if we couldn't go to Charlevoix [where her adoptive parents reside] because the police closed the counties. I was taken aback. How did she know about this?! Uncertainty is hard for me, so I can only imagine what it must feel to her during this Great Fight of Hand Washing!
Most days, I'm just tired of being home. I want to jump in my car and drive. As a mother, we have a hard time doing things like these. We feel we're abandoning our family. So instead of driving away for a day, I stayed in bed longer. It's my way to postpone reality, while still being here.
(Family photo)
For a while, we had COVID-like symptoms. It was right after flying back from NOLA, and I'm fairly sure we had the virus. We remained quarantined for 14 days.
I work in the entertainment industry, selling tickets for festivals and shows, and at the Palais des Congrès, in downtown Montreal. But there’s no congress happening right now, and no more shows, which means that soon, there will be no more work.
Right now, I'm reimbursing everybody who purchased tickets, but I'm not sure what I'll do once that's done. Maybe I should change career, but I don't see what I could do. People talk about this pandemic like if it's a one-time historical event, but unless we completely stop international travel, this kind of thing will keep happening. If it comes back, I have to be able to provide for my family.
I've never been career-oriented, but I always had experience with showbiz and working with people. I love to go to work and to think that I might not be able to do this anymore, it makes me incredibly anxious.
For now, I can afford to pay my bills. Our government is helping, but we all know that austerity measures will be put in place once it passes, and the most vulnerable will once again pay for it. Meanwhile, Jeff Bezos still doesn't pay taxes...
Everyone's doing the best they can, including our leaders, but to open up at all costs is so dangerous. Lobbies are pushing for reopening, and people have serious discussions about "sacrificing the elderly." I couldn't believe it when I heard that on the news. To hear analysts and politicians talk about how "five or six thousand deads, mostly old people," isn't a big deal, blows my mind. It is a big deal! They are humans! They have families, grandkids!
Even our prime minister mentioned something along those lines. And let’s be real, it all started in the US. Everyone was outraged when they heard Trump say things like these at loud, but two weeks later, no one bats an eye. It's the Donald Trump effect: nothing as a shock value anymore. He'll say or do something worse tomorrow, so why bother? Why not sacrificing an entire demographic? Why not encouraging delation?
Our prime minister invited the population to call the cops if they saw gatherings.
Of course, the firsts who are victims of these behaviors are the marginalized and people of color.
To be fair, the cops also gave a bunch of tickets in wealthier neighborhoods to those hanging out at the park with friends, drinking beer. I mean… A pandemic isn't a vacation!
Despite all that is going on, I consider myself privileged: I'm not pregnant, sick, I have a family, my grandmother died last August, and many people were able to come and visit her. Can you imagine going through this right now? What an awful end of life.
One friend lost her grandfather recently and couldn't go see him. Another one is pregnant and is shit scared to have to give birth on her own. I have single friends who haven't seen anyone or been touched in weeks. In a way, we're lucky with our kids who climb on us all day.
My husband is also here with us. He's American, but he recently got his Canadian residency. We're together 24/7 right now, so... we’re lucky, yes. But being confined together at all times doesn't help me to want to quit smoking!
(Family photo)
I found my biological father.
It's a lot of emotions all at once, and I'm either consumed by this or the pandemic. It never feels like I'm in the present.
You hear about all these deaths that are happening or are coming, and it crossed my mind that my biological parents might die. I had tried to find them before, but it pushed me to try to contact them one more time. This pandemic encourages introspection, both literally and figuratively!
My biological dad didn't know I existed. He lives in New York, but he's from Haiti. He speaks creole.
I am a North-American Quebecer who grew up in a white family and culture. Talking to him has been a positive experience so far.
I've learned things I didn't know: the names of my grandparents, a village in Haiti I can locate on a map, pictures of my half-brothers and sisters.
My biological father and I talk every day on Messenger, and we spoke over the phone a couple of times. We haven't met in person yet. In a way, I'm happy the borders are closed. Otherwise, I'm sure I would have rushed there over Easter. It's a good thing we are taking the time to know each other before I head over there. There are cultural differences that are causing some hurdles, and it's better if we go slow.
I was relieved to learn that I have siblings. And a lot of them. Not one speaks creole, which in a sense, reassured me. It feels like I'm closer to them culturally. I have a huge interest in getting to know them. Them... not so much. It makes me a little sad, but at the same time, I was not looking for them in the first place.
It's also very recent, so I'm going to let time take its course, and I'm definitely not closing any door.
Some are here in Montreal, and others are in New York. I know their names. I'm married now, but when I was dating, I remember I would always wonder if the guy’s last name could also be mine. It was strange.
Last Fall, I got tattooed two genealogical trees with their branches entangled. They represent my two lineages: biological and adoptive.
It was really something to see pictures of my sisters and my biological father: I'm his spitting image. Today again, I looked at both our portraits next to each other, and I can't believe it. I used to only be able to see myself in my daughter, but now I can see a bloodline in my half-sisters and him.
It's powerful to feel you are a part of an ancestry.
More than a year ago, I filled the Identity disclosure registration form to find my biological mother. The government opened up this program where adopted children would be allowed to know their mother’s name. They received 60 000 demands, so it took a while to get a response. I got a letter with a bunch of non-identifying information, but with my first and last names at birth.
Based on that, I started doing my own research and found someone I thought was her. I was able to connect with her brother through social media, and I asked him if she could give me a callback.
To my surprise, she did but claimed she was not my biological mother. Her brother didn't know anything about me, so I'm wondering if she was lying. I have my doubts because although she's the one who called me back, she was somewhat aggressive towards me.
When I asked about the birth certificate and the fact our last names were the same, she said someone had stolen her identity and probably went to the hospital to give birth under her name. When I talked to my biological father about her, he said he remembered dating a woman with that name back in the day. I also look a lot like her.
(Family photo)
It's complicated for so many reasons: he was married at the time, and she probably never told anyone because of that. I also know it's not uncommon for biological mothers to reject communications at first. It must come with so much shame and dilemmas, especially if they have other children who never knew about it.
It's been six months since we spoke. Three weeks ago, it was my birthday, so I thought that maybe she'd want to reconnect after having heard my voice. She didn’t.
My biggest fear is that they'll die before I can meet them in person. They're older than seventy years old, so I'm wondering if she'd be ok to pass without having talked to me.
I had the same concerns in 2010 when the earthquake happened in Haiti. I spent many nights wondering if I’d missed my chance to meet my biological parents.
I'm still waiting to receive the paperwork from the government with her official name on it. I'll know for sure then. But because of the pandemic, everything is delayed. Overall I'm taking this better than I thought I would. It grounds me to know a little bit more about myself.
I’m also thinking that it's not because she doesn't want to talk to me that I don't have a sister or a brother who won't. Her reaction is not what I had hoped for, but I waited later in life to look for my biological parents for that exact reason; I wanted to be in a place where I'd know for sure that I wouldn't die from another rejection. I'm not fighting against it. I’m prepared.
And whether they accept me or not, I'm part of a lineage now.