A son’s heartbreaking journey to find his mother
Jonah Bobongie was adopted when he was eight-weeks-old. He’s now on a search to find his birth mother and he wants your help.
Lifestyle
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It’s all he has of her.
Jonah Bobongie holds a letter in his hands and runs his fingers across every word.
He’s lost count of how many times he’s read it but every time he does, he hopes to somehow unravel the mystery that will bring him closer to her.
The letter was written by his birth mother more than two decades ago after she gave him up for adoption.
Jonah has never known her, his birth family or the world from which he came, until now, reading a letter she wrote to him and his adoptive family.
Her words reveal a 13-year-old girl who saw no choice but to give up the son she loved dearly, to give him the life she so desperately wanted to provide but knew she couldn’t.
“Hi, my name is Moana,” she writes in black pen.
“You’ve probably heard about me but I’ll tell you a little about myself. I am from Papua New Guinea … I was 13 when I had my baby … I have five brothers and I’m the only girl, anyway that’s a little bit about myself.”
Her innocence drawn in the red love hearts covering the A4 notepaper that looks like it could’ve been taken from a schoolbook.
And there, written in black and red pen, was what Jonah had wanted to know his whole life; how did she feel about him?
“I love him so much and I will really really miss him,” she writes.
“You will always be remembered and kept in my heart.”
“I wish you all the best for the future with him. I hope that we’ll keep in touch with each other.”
Jonah’s much-loved adoptive mum, Carol, kept this letter and a pile of documents in a folder ever since she adopted him as a baby.
She tucked it away in a cupboard and told Jonah to let her know when he was ready to read them.
A few months ago, Jonah opened the purple folder.
“I was struggling with self-identity and not knowing where I came from was holding me back from career opportunities and relationships because I didn’t entirely understand myself,” he says.
“I felt lost going through this world without knowing where I came from.”
Inside were maps of his hometown, two letters written by his birth mum, a small photo of her, poems and pieces of his family history. The floodgates were opened.
“Mum had always kept that folder with us since the process began and I haven’t asked her for it until this year,” he says.
“When I opened the folder, I couldn’t put it down, I probably spent five hours reading through
every piece of paper, even if it was boring receipts, I needed to know.”
“I can’t even put into words how strong the emotion was.
“I felt so connected to my birth mum, just touching those letters is the closest I’ve been to her since birth.
He knew the deeper he went, he could uncover everything or nothing at all. He had to try.
Sitting at a coffee shop, Jonah begins to tell his story. He holds the letters in his hands and fights back tears.
“These letters are one of the most important things in my life, they give me a lot of hope and they are the main link in the chain,” he says.
“After reading them, I was ready to start the journey, I wanted to know more.”
He traces his fingers over the large holes in the paper of the letter. Officials have cut out any identifying information; her last name, school and birthday.
It’s time to find those missing blanks.
Jonah was born in Cairns and grew up in Mt Cotton, in Brisbane’s south, with his much-loved adoptive mother, Carol, and sister, Jade, who is also adopted.
His father (Carol’s ex-husband), left the family when Jonah was six.
But Jonah says he’s lucky to have been raised by Carol in a household full of life, love, opportunity and joy.
“I don’t tell her enough how grateful I am to have her (Carol) and how much I love her, I owe a lot to her,” he smiles.
“They are both my mums, my birth mum for giving me this opportunity in life and my adopted mum for sacrificing so much to give me and my sister a great life.”
Jonah always knew he was adopted and as much as he loves his family, he’s never stopped thinking about his birth mother; who is she? Where is she? Does he look like her? Does she think of him?
Earlier this year, Jonah began his bid to find her and, he laughs, his first step was a Google search.
“It sounds ridiculous,” he jokes, “I typed in ‘how do I find my birth family?”
“It came up with the Queensland government site to submit an application for your adoption records and at the end of May, I posted those forms off.”
It’s a process that takes months to return any results.
While he waited, he launched a podcast, Led by a Heartstring, documenting his journey and held the letters close, comforted by their warmth.
“It was her love for me. Every second sentence seemed to be ‘I love you’ and ‘I miss you’ and ‘I’ll remember you’.
“It wasn’t that she didn’t want me, she just didn’t have the right home environment for me to grow up in.”
Over the past few months, Jonah has enlisted not-for-profit organisation, The Benevolent Society, to help him navigate through the process.
They’re there to provide much-needed support, he says, as they mediate and provide mental and emotional support.
And, Jonah says, they helped him cope after he received his adoption records back a few weeks ago.
“That was a life-changing moment for me … I felt like a real person after getting that information and that is something I’ve been speaking to with a counsellor,” he says.
“Adoptees can feel like they’re not a real thing, they’ve lived most of their life as this person who has been brought up in a world that wasn’t originally meant for them.”
His records also uncovered information he wasn’t ready for.
“The circumstances I was conceived were pretty violent and abnormal,” he says quietly.
“It also added an element that maybe I was a mistake and that impacted on my mental health.
“I’ve pushed through that with my support worker, it wasn’t my doing or my fault and it is now part of both of our stories.
“I’m more worried that it’s going to affect our relationship (with his birth mother) and trigger trauma response for her, even if she looks at me, will that trigger what happened 22 years ago to her?”
While Jonah unpacks the emotional deluge, he finds comfort and hope within his mother’s words.
“I’m going off the letters she wrote when I was young and I feel positive about that,” he says.
With the records revealing little information except her full name, a few weeks ago, Jonah did what anyone would do and hit Facebook.
“I looked up her name and it came up with two profiles,” he says.
“I clicked on the first one and it looked like the person I had a photo of but an older version, I thought that must be her.
“Is says she’s living in PNG.”
Last week, Jonah (through the Benevolent Society) sent a message to her on Facebook. He’s now anxiously awaiting a reply.
“It’s a bit of relief but also there’s anxiety knowing that time has come, we’ve reached that point and it’s Judgement Day in my life,” he says.
“It’s part of my morning routine, I sit down at breakfast and wonder if she’s read the message yet, I wonder if she’s thinking about me, I wonder if she remembers me?”
Jonah knows his life could soon change forever, or not at all, if that reply never comes.
But he does know she’s out there somewhere and wherever she is, he wants her to know he’s happy, safe and one day, would love to meet her.