https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-12397781/Man-70-illegal-birth-certificate-said-adoptive-mother-father-BIRTH-parents-left-unmarried-woman-Catholic-orphanage-Ireland-reveals-eventually-real-mum.htmlMan, 70, whose illegal birth certificate said his adoptive mother and father were his BIRTH parents after he was left by an unmarried woman at a Catholic orphanage in Ireland reveals how he eventually found his real mum
EXCLUSIVE: Retired Bernard McGrath, 70, was born in Ireland in 1953
READ MORE: Emotional moment woman tells Long Lost Family 'half of me is missing' as she hunts for father who left her as a baby
By Jessica Green For Mailonline
Published: 18:32, 11 August 2023 | Updated: 18:43, 11 August 2023
A man whose birth certificate illegally said his adoptive mother and father were actually his birth parents after he was left at a Catholic orphanage in Ireland has revealed how he finally found his real mother. Retired telecoms worker Bernard McGrath, 70, was born in Ireland in 1953, to an unmarried woman. He had been taken by his adoptive parents as a baby from the nursery at Temple Hill. His adoptive mother who shockingly appears as Bernard's birth mother on his original birth certificate had an aunt who was a nun and she arranged the adoption. Appearing in a special episode of Long Lost Family on Monday night, Bernard recalls: ‘She was brought into a room with three cots in it and she was saying which one would you like?'
It wasn't until the age of 40 that Bernard heard rumours that he was adopted and confronted his late mother, who finally told him the truth. But upon searching for his birth certificate through official channels in the hope of finding his birth parents, he tells FEMAIL he was shocked to discover it was 'fake'. In the False Identities special episode of Long Lost Family, the team follows Bernard as he recalls his difficult search for his actual birth mother and father. He was born in Ireland to an unmarried mother at a time when having children outside of marriage was seen as sinful, and the Catholic Church went to great lengths to cover it up. In the last five years, 151 illegal registrations where no formal adoption order ever took place and instead the adoptive parents were named falsely and illegally on the register of births as the birth parents of the child have been proven including Bernard’s. According to the programme, these are thought to be just the tip of the iceberg. It had been a criminal offence to enter false information into the register of birth since 1874, and yet the practice was relatively widespread during the 1950, ‘60s and ‘70s in Ireland. Speaking to FEMAIL about his illegal birth certificate and discovering he was adopted, Bernard says: 'I didn’t know anything about it. It’s the only registration that was done for me. Before I heard I was adopted, I hadn’t a clue. I didn’t know anything about it. Then I went down to my mother and said "I’ve heard I was adopted".
She said "where’d you hear that". I said "it doesn’t matter, is it true?" And she said "yes". So I went from there. It turns your whole world upside down,' admits the retired 70-year-old. 'You’re wondering who am I and where did I come from? Why was I adopted, why was I not told? All those mixed emotions. It was very upsetting, because your whole life is changed.'
Bernard, who now lives near Hereford in England with his supportive second wife, Sally, grew up in the suburbs of north Dublin as an only child with his parents Dan and Margaret McGrath. They were quite remote, and his mother a disciplinarian. But aged 40, Bernard discovered he was adopted. His adoptive mother didn’t have any information about his birth parents at all so Bernard ordered his birth certificate to find their names. But shockingly, Bernard read his adoptive parents’ names on the registration as though they were his birth parents. Bernard recalled: 'As soon as it was confirmed, I went to the registration office and asked for my birth certificate, and as soon as I got it, I said to the girl who gave it to me, I said "this is a false document. I was adopted, I’ve just found out. Can you go and get my proper birth certificate."'
But a manager told Bernard that while he was adopted, that was the only certificate they had for him. To learn his true identity, Bernard approached the Irish Adoption Authority, but was redirected to St Patrick’s Guild, the agency run by the Sisters of Charity the order of nuns who’d arranged his adoption. Bernard knocked on the door and a nun came out. At first there was a refusal to give Bernard any information. But after he revealed that his aunt had been a mother superior, they relented and told him his birth mother’s name: Theresa Scully. They wouldn't give him her address but offered to pass on a letter to her. He received his first letter back from her in October 1994. It read: 'Dear Bernard, I am so very, very sorry for this long delay to your letter. You have no idea of what I felt when I looked at the pictures, especially of the ones of you as a little boy my baby that I never seen grow up through the years.'
It concluded: ‘God bless you. And remember, I think of you every day. All my love Teresa.'
Bernard and his birth mother who had moved to Philadelphia then started corresponding via letters and phone numbers. She never told her husband but her two daughters knew. Eventually, Bernard travelled to America to meet with his birth mother in person, recalling: 'We met in a shopping mall. I got there first and I was just looking at everybody coming in you know. All the women of a certain age is that her? Is that her? And eventually she walked in, and I knew straight away and she looked at me and knew straight away, then we had a big hug.'
Bernard’s birth mother sadly died in 2017, 22 years after they met. But before her passing, she told Bernard the name of his birth father. Bernard’s mother believed his father Patrick Bowden was living in England. Feeling he didn’t have the means to find him, Bernard put his search on hold until some years later DNA testing seemed a possible avenue. Even then, he wasn’t able to find a close relative. Bernard’s breakthrough came in 2022. Following years of activism by adopted people, they were finally granted full access to their adoption files (thanks to the new Birth Information and Tracing Act). There was also help for those whose births had been registered illegally. Bernard was put in touch with a genetic genealogist, who very quickly identified Bernard’s birth father, Patrick Bowden. The expert was able to let Bernard know that Patrick, a lorry driver, had died in 1972, but before that had married and had three daughters and three sons.
Bernard sent his sister Mandy, who grew up in Bradford in the UK, an email asking what she could tell him about her father, Patrick. She asked him why he wanted to know, to which he replied: 'I think he might be my father too.'
A surprised Mandy asked him when he was born and for a photograph, before responding: 'Yep, you're my half-brother, no doubt about it, you look just like [Patrick],' recalls Bernard.
DNA testing confirmed they were related and what's more, when Mandy learned from Bernard that his birth mother’s name was Teresa Scully, she realised that his birth mother was her father’s one-time ballroom dancing partner, Terry Scully. Mandy doesn’t believe her father could have known about Bernard, revealing that when her own mother gave birth to her outside of wedlock, her father insisted on marrying her mother as soon as he discovered he had a daughter. Bernard explains: '[Mandy's mother] became pregnant, she went back home to her parents or grandparents house and had the baby and the baby was Mandy, but she had family support. [My birth father] had gone to England to work and he came back to Dublin for a holiday I suppose and he was out with one of his friends [who said] "remember that girlfriend of yours, she had a baby". He got on the next train for where she lived, went into her parents or grandparents and said: "I'm marrying her, she has my daughter, so I’m marrying her straight away" and they got married. So that’s the type of person he was. He didn’t shy away from his responsibilities [he was a] gentleman.'
Bernard admits that his birth mother never told him why she didn't tell his birth father about him, adding: 'We reckon that if he had have known, he would've married her, because of the type of person he was. He never knew.'
Last September, Bernard met his some of his siblings, who have welcomed him into the family with open arms. 'Before that we had been exchanging messages. They said: "no you’re not a half-brother you’re our brother and that’s it. No doubt about it, none of this half stuff", so they accepted me straight away,' explains Bernard.
He adds: 'We get on very well now [and are] constantly messaging.'
He also admits: 'It’s like a big weight off your shoulder, you know who you are, you know who you came from, you know the type of people who are your siblings and it’s great.'
Bernard and his paternal siblings are all meeting up with one another once again at the end of this month. Elsewhere, during Monday's episode, co-presenter Nicky Campbell also meets with one of the leading experts in Irish adoption law, Professor Conor O’Mahony, at University College Cork. Professor Conor explains that an illegal birth registration occurred when a child was placed with parents other than its own parents to be raised by them as adoptive parents, but no formal adoption order took place. Instead, the adoptive parents were named falsely and illegally on the register of births as the birth parents of the child, as if the child had been born to them. In 20th century Ireland, women who became pregnant out of wedlock were often forced to give birth in now infamous mother and baby and homes. It’s not known how many were pressured into giving up their babies up for adoption, but nearly 60,000 children were born in institutions like these. The practice of falsely recording the identity of illegitimate children was shrouded in secrecy. Only now is the full scale of it coming to light. Despite the illegality of the practice, at the time the state did not act to prevent it. In Ireland, over 180 institutions dealt with placing children. It’s not known exactly how many babies were illegally registered.
