It wasn’t until 2020, at the age of 52, that I was given the right to use my name. But as with all things adoption, nothing is quite as simple as it seems. Like other babies given to infertile couples under Australia’s “forced adoption” policies, my birth certificate was cancelled soon after I was born; a second birth certificate created a legal fiction to make it look like I was born to the infertile couple.
With a stroke of a pen I was denied connection with all of my family – my cousins, aunts, uncles, grandmothers – and my first given name. After a few months I was handed over to the couple who took me home. I had no social history, no medical, racial or genetic history. It was all top secret.
