OPINION: Birthmother search strikes the jackpot

SEARCH: Graeme called every person with his birth mother's name that he found on the electoral roll, and eventually found a relative who put him on the right track.

In 1985, the law changed and allowed adoptees to obtain their original birth certificates -- effectively giving them the name of their birth mother and in most cases, their birth father.

Birth mothers could also apply for the birth certificate. They had given birth to the child, but they would never have known the child's name.

Complicating matters, both mother and child could apply a veto for 10 years -- stopping the other from finding them if they so wished.

We had to nominate a counsellor from a list that would take us through the process. I knew none of them so chose a woman who had the same initials as me (it turned out she and her husband used to work for my parents on our farm). I applied for my birth certificate and it wasn't long before I had a call from my counsellor.

She had the certificate. No veto! So we met, she advised me on the correct and proper way of going through the process and then handed me a piece of paper. There, for the first time, was the name of the woman who gave birth to me. No father's name.

I wasn't excited or even desperate to meet my birth mother at that stage. I was more relieved. I assumed she was still alive, being only 15 years older than me.

She had a very unusual middle and surname and I knew she would be easy to find if she were still in the country. I went to the Department of Internal Affairs, going through every electoral role in the country and writing down everyone who had the same surname, from Cape Reinga to Bluff.

There were only 14. I started phoning the numbers, starting from the top.

At the fourth phone call, in Te Aroha, I struck the jackpot.

"Oh yes, she is my niece. She lives in Palmerston North."

Within a short time I had her married name, her phone number and where she worked.

That information was enough for me. I did nothing for six months. Then, one Friday evening, I suddenly decided I would ring her.

The conversation went like this.

"Are you alone?"

"Yes, why?"

"Is your full name ... ?"

"Yes, what's this about?"

"Does April 29, 1956 mean anything to you?"

"No".

(Oh my god, I've got the wrong person.)

"Did you have a baby when you were 15?" -- long pause. "Yes".

"Well, I think I was that baby".

Long silence, then a scream.

And it was as easy as that.

I can't actually describe in detail what happened next -- but suffice to say once she had gotten over the shock and disbelief, there were lots of tears on both sides.

She said "you won't believe this but my husband said only last week, 'I wonder what ever happened to that boy.'"

We arranged to meet the next day.

Next week, I will talk about our first meeting and our relationship since.