Giving a baby up for adoption can lead to a lifetime of guilt and neglect. But just as hard for some mothers is the uncertainty over the fate of their child, as Nick Morrison discovers.
WHEN Fran passes a man of a certain age in the street, she takes a more careful look than most people. As her eyes scan his features, she searches for the tell-tale signs which could give her a glimmer of hope.
"I could look at someone and if there was any resemblance..." her voice tails off and she looks into the middle distance. "I'm sharpish featured and if there was any sort of... I could look at someone and think 'That could be my son. That could be my son'.
"I would not stop them or speak to them though. That would be taking a big risk."
Fran's son will be 38 this year, if he is still alive. She has not seen him since he was six weeks old and she gave him up for adoption. She knows he was alive four years ago and living with his adoptive parents, somewhere "within commuting distance" of her County Durham home. She knows nothing else about him. Not even his name.
"I think about what kind of a career he would have, whether he is going out with someone, if he is married and whether I have grandchildren I have never met.
"I wonder if he will look like me and would he forgive me? Would he understand? I would love to be able to tell him that it was the biggest regret of my life," she says.
Fran, now a smartly-dressed woman of 56, tried to get in touch with her son four years ago. On her behalf, an adoption agency wrote to him, but there was no reply. Six weeks later, they wrote again, but still no reply. The letters were sent by registered post but Fran still clings to the possibility that he never received them.
"The letters explained how much I regretted what I did and that I was wanting contact and wanting to tell him how much I did regret it. Even if it was to know how he was. He might not be alive any more, so just to know he was ok and he was doing well.
"I had wanted to do it for a long, long time, but I just had this urgency and thought I have got to do it.
"Of course it was very upsetting, but I have to consider his feelings and, if he was feeling rejected, obviously it would be very difficult and devastating for him. I know I have to accept that, but I don't regret trying to contact him. I still live in hope."
Fran was 18 when she became pregnant. Her parents made it clear that there was no way she could bring the baby home and, with no other means of support, she felt she had no choice. She was sent to a mother and baby home before her pregnancy started to show, and six weeks after the birth she handed her son over.
'My parents took it very badly - they didn't want to know. I felt I had no choice, but I was totally devastated. It is something I deeply, deeply regretted then and I still deeply regret now.
"It is only a year ago that I stopped feeling really guilty, and it is only a year ago that I stopped thinking when something happened to me I was being punished, it was retribution. But I decided I couldn't go on punishing myself any longer. I have done it all these years and I cannot do it any longer, because I'm not the only one who did this."
But while the guilt has gone, the shame remains. As well as her parents, until this year the only people to know of her secret were her brother, her ex-husband and their son and daughter. None of her friends know, and she has no intention of ever telling them. She asked for an assumed name to be used for this article.
And even among those who knew, it was a subject which was rarely touched upon. "I could never, ever discuss it with my dad, never. I maybe discussed it once with mum. I think I said: 'I can never forgive you for what has happened.' And she said: 'What are you talking about?' and the conversation didn't go any further.
"I told my husband before we were married, and he was ok about it, but we never really talked about it. It might have been briefly mentioned but I didn't really feel I could open up about it."
Fran's experience has also had a lasting effect on her relationships, leaving her insecure and desperate for approval. "You tend to cling on to people like a leech because you are frightened that anyone who comes into your life is going to go away," she says.
Fran did forgive her parents before they died - "It was maybe the way they were brought up. They probably didn't do it deliberately, it was how it was then" - and her daughter and son from her marriage have been very supportive, and are both keen to meet their brother.
Earlier this year, Fran decided to put her experience to positive use, as a volunteer for After Adoption, a charity offering support to adopted children, birth parents and adoptive parents.
"I decided I had to move forward, and felt that out of something really sad that happened in my life, I could help others," she says. "The groups I am involved with are a safety net, and after something that has been devastating in my life, I feel I have turned it around."
And while her involvement with After Adoption has seen her share her secret with members of the groups she helps run - mainly made up of birth mothers whose children have been adopted - the thought of making it widely known is instantly dismissed. She tells me she would never have imagined talking to a reporter about giving up her baby, and only agreed to the interview to publicise the work done by After Adoption.
"I certainly don't want people to know. It is so sad that it is still something you have to keep hidden, but people who are not open-minded will ridicule you and put you down."
Carolyn Oliver, After Adoption service manager for the North-East, says with adoption now largely involving older children removed from their birth parents by the courts as a result of a difficult home life, it is becoming rarer to lose touch altogether. But the scars for birth mothers who have had no contact with their children can run deep.
"The key issue is not knowing. Not knowing whether the child is alive or dead, not knowing how they have turned out and if they're well. You hear things on the news about someone of the same age who has maybe been in a motorcycle accident and think 'that could be my son' but they just don't know," she says.
"They are often not able to move on in life because they're stuck with that baby in their minds. They know the baby has grown up, but because they have had no information since, they find it difficult to move on."
She says some birth parents are constantly scrutinising people who would be about the same age as their child, looking for any resemblance. She has worked with birth mothers who buy their child a birthday card every year, but know nothing about them.
'One of the effects is they have never felt worthy of knowing anything. They had such a strong message that they were a bad person and they should go away and forget it. And they don't feel they should have any help or support," Carolyn says.
Mothers who have given their children up for adoption have no right to any identifying information, although After Adoption can help in passing letters on, often through local authorities or adoption agencies.
Despite the failure of her first attempt, Fran is planning to try and contact her birth son again. "I was very excited and hopeful last time, and I know it is a risk to do it again," she says. "I know it was all a long time ago, but I will never really give up hope."
After Adoption can be contacted on 0800 568 578 or on information@afteradoption.org.uk
Comments: Our rules
We want our comments to be a lively and valuable part of our community - a place where readers can debate and engage with the most important local issues. The ability to comment on our stories is a privilege, not a right, however, and that privilege may be withdrawn if it is abused or misused.
Please report any comments that break our rules.
Read the rules hereComments are closed on this article