Mothers, we’re looking for you ! And yet…

I was born in Beirut in 1966. My mother was hidden during her pregnancy, and was forced to abandon me at birth. I was adopted a few months later in France. After a long and arduous search, I was lucky enough to find her in 2017. As this journey enriched my life so profoundly, since this time, I’ve been committed to helping other adoptees from Lebanon in their endless search for their biological roots.

Every year, a handful of people feel profoundly happy when they find their mother, their father, a sibling…people they resemble, a piece of their history, a biological home port, a possible response to the nagging question: "Why was I abandoned?". But too few get to experience this solace, and I just cannot remain silent in the face of the suffering of all the others.

Three years ago, I launched an appeal "Mamans, nous vous cherchons et nous ne vous en voulons pas"1 (Mothers we’re looking for you, we’re not blaming you) via the daily newspaper ‘L’Orient-Le-Jour.’ Thanks to Anne-Marie El-Hage’s article, a few biological mothers found the courage to ask for help to find their children. This article also provided an opportunity for a few half-siblings to launch their search. And yet….

And yet today, my observation is a sad one: the adoptees’ search is all too often in vain. In fact, when we go to Lebanon, all too often we’re faced with the tired old remark "but you already have a family back home!" The point is not however to find out whether or not we were lucky enough to have been brought up in an adoptive family, it is to find the person to whom we owe our life!

We’re here, ready to welcome you and listen to your story without judging, simply in response to the natural need to find a face in which we can find the reflection of our own, in order to make it easier to move forward, hear a birth story that we can root ourselves in. Unfortunately, we all too often come up against an incomprehensible omertà from those who have participated in our adoptions, as well as from a great number of Lebanese that we come into contact with - including those in the diaspora. Adoption is a subject so taboo that from the moment the word "adopted" is uttered, contact is often permanently cut off.

Today I fully understand that our mothers have already been judged once (how many of our fathers supported them?) and that when we find them, this can happen a second time. I can only sympathise with their pain as they are forced to remain silent under so much cultural and social pressure. And yet what mother would not want to know that her child is alive? On top of this, there is the worry about secrets that will probably poison the families involved. As for the adoptee, they are rejected once again. There is so much suffering in the name of this ‘honour crime’...

Incidentally, intimate relationships before marriage have always existed. My perception is that in Lebanon, a child born from such a relationship is regularly placed for adoption and it is seen as totally acceptable. Adoption therefore alleviates a serious problem within Lebanon, and thousands of us pay a heavy price for it!

It seems important to me to recognise that adoption is only the consequence of abandonment! Yet isn’t the best place for a child with their biological family? Not only is material comfort worth nothing in my eyes when faced with separation – and we must stop believing that all adoptive couples are rich – but it is also essential to take into consideration the primitive wound2, the trauma of maternal separation, the after-effects of which regularly impact the adoptee throughout their life. It should also be noted that in most cases, adoption is the meeting of two wounds – that of a couple that has not been able to have children, and that of an already traumatised child – which also leads to failure in adoptions. It is therefore high time to stop idealising adoption.

In actual fact, this abandonment affects all socio-cultural and religious backgrounds. There are so many cases, including adopted people that discover they have a half-brother or sister that has also been adopted, or legitimate children stolen at birth. And what about documents that state that the child was born to their adoptive mother, denying the very existence of a biological mother? As for the "administrative fees" of the adoption files, they reached an average of 20.000 USD since the war.

I would have preferred to be sharing more cheerful news with you. I am fully aware of the collapse Lebanon is going through, and I am deeply affected by it. Despite these circumstances, it is morally impossible for me to ignore the still burning issue of those that have been abandoned. While Lebanon has still not ratified the Hague Convention3, and a real industry of adoption has been going on for several decades now, I remain deeply concerned: how much more suffering does the future hold?

It is by walking this path together, that we will alleviate the suffering we share, and allow others to feel the sweet taste of reunion.

Mothers, we are searching for you

and there are many of us on our way to you

Fathers, half-brothers/sisters, cousins…

We look forward to meeting you too

Because we are your children

Because we are children of Lebanon

Because knowing your biological roots is a fundamental human need!