Posted on 11/24/2021 4:19:58 AM PST by Kaslin
Dear Birthmom,
You don’t know me, but you saved me.
As I’m writing this, I’m trying, as I have so many times, to picture your face. Nothing comes to mind. It’s a void that’s been there all of my life. Your eyes, your nose, your hair, your skin. I have no idea what you look like.
When I see my reflection, I know you’re in the face that is looking back at me.
I searched for you years ago after I graduated with my Master’s Degree. My heart longed to simply tell you how grateful I am. I wanted to tell you all the things I’ve been able to become because of your singular decision: a son, a brother, an honors student, a Who’s Who Among American Colleges and Universities, a record-setting athlete, a musician, a vocalist, an award-winning creative professional, an author, a mentor, a factivist, an international public speaker, a columnist, a husband, and a father. Most importantly, no matter the circumstances of my conception, I grew up understanding I was always a child of God.
I petitioned the court to unseal my adoption records and sent a copy of a song I had written to you called “Meant to Be.” The Cumberland County, PA judge was moved by the letter and allowed a search to be conducted. The song expresses every emotion I’ve felt about someone who not only gave me the gift of life but the gift of adoption.
Every day you faced the questions
Torn by the lot you had received
Every tear was a reminder
Of how I was conceived
But in the middle of the confusion
You found the strength to make it through
And now I can love and be loved
All because of you
This is the second verse. I remember breaking down several times as I tried to record the lyrics…every word birthed from both joy and pain.
I remember finding out my origin story for the first time. It was a lot to process and a far cry from what I told my friends in elementary school. I can still hear myself explaining: “My parents were in love, but they were way too young. And they couldn’t take care of me. So they gave me to the Bombergers.” Variations of that story defined my misunderstanding. It was at the tumultuous age of 13 that I finally grasped what my mom had been trying to explain so compassionately for years.
I hadn’t understood what the word “rape” meant until that moment. It was such a painful yet needed conversation. It fueled my passion to tell my true story while honoring you. It erased so many questions and feelings of rejection and turned them into inexplicable gratitude for your courage.
The wretched violence of rape denied your very humanity. Despite it, you chose to be stronger than abortion—further violence that denies the humanity of every one of its victims (born and unborn). My heart aches for the trauma you endured. I pray you received the help and wholeness that you needed.
Your attacker deserved to be punished. Not you. Not me.
I want you to know that I was adopted and so deeply loved. The parents that welcomed me into their home and hearts, when I was just six weeks old, weren’t deterred by how I came to be. They were committed to nurturing who I was meant to be.
I wish you knew the beautiful reverberations you caused with that singular decision so many years ago. When I look into the faces of my amazing wife and four children (two of whom were also adopted), I can’t help but thank you, thank my parents (Henry and Andrea Bomberger), and thank a God who enables triumph to rise from tragedy.
I was meant to be
This life was meant for me
Though you went through so much pain
Your tears, they were not in vain
Although you could not see
What God had planned for me
I was meant to be
The chorus of my song is a tribute to your strength and inherent human value. Our worth doesn’t come from our origin stories. It doesn’t come from our accomplishments. It doesn’t come from our “wantedness.” We have equal and irrevocable worth simply because we exist. I was not humanly planned, but we’re all part of God’s plan. My wife and I share this truth through our nonprofit, The Radiance Foundation. Whether planned, unplanned, abled or disabled, we illuminate that every human life has purpose.
I’m the one percent that is used 100% of the time to justify abortion. But you didn’t allow me to end up a tragic statistic. Today I fight so millions of others are deemed worthy of life, too.
So, maybe now you know me just a little bit more. I’m the one you saved even though you didn’t have to.
Adoption unleashed purpose in my life. I can only pray that perhaps these words unleash some healing in yours. Maybe, one day, we’ll meet face to face. And just maybe, we’ll see reflections of ourselves.
Your birthson,
Ryan “Scotty” Bomberger
Beautiful story. I, too, was adopted. I don’t dwell on it but have occasional thoughts about finding birth mother to thank her for not having an abortion before giving me life on July 5, 1968 in Duluth, Minnesota.
P.S. Tell God to strike Nazi Pelosi and Joek with a billion volt lightening bolt.
God Bless
Beautiful.
It can’t be easy carrying a child you know was conceived through rape.It takes a brave and decent woman to understand that her *child* has done *nothing* wrong but the rapist certainly has. It takes courage for her to decide not to punish the child for the sins/crimes of the rapist.
There’s something to make a grown man cry and give thanks.
My oldest niece is adopted. She was born in the late 70’s and knows how lucky she was. She is ardently pro-life.
So true.
May God protect all of the unborn babies.
It would be intellectually inconsistent to be adopted and pro-choice.
My husband of 47 years was adopted when he was 3 months old from an orphanage. All adoptions were "closed" then, he only had love his Mother and Father who adopted him, they gave him an incredibly healthy attitude about his circumstance. Never had a desire to meet the one who gave him up, I wanted to, but he wasn't interested. Even after his adopted parents died, they were incredible people, he did not look for his birth Mother.
A very touching article to start the season of thanksgiving. It’s amazing how a courageous woman can turn a moral dilemma into an answer to a prayer.
My wife was adopted when she was four years old. She has vague memories of living with some other people before she was adopted. We did the Ancestry.com thing and got a general idea as to her background, but she seemed reticent to follow up on emails from other Ancestry.com people who thought they might be related. She seems curious and afraid at the same time.
A beautiful story of hope, thanksgiving, acceptance, and life.
Thanks for posting. I wish this gentleman all the best in the world, and it seems like he has it. God Bless him, and his mom.
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