Blindsided

You know, the craziest things happen when you're not looking for them. At least for me. Finding my husband, getting pregnant with twins, losing my twins, finding out I was pregnant with my 3rd, and , of course, my reunion with my mom totally blindsided me. Those are the first situations that popped in my head that were completely unexpected. I wasn't looking or expecting any of those things to happen, but they did. Some of those situations were for the better and some of them I'm still trying to figure out "why". Regardless, they all came when I least expected it.

Well...as you have probably guessed by now...I have been blindsided once again.

As I was getting ready to leave for school yesterday morning, I noticed that I had an email notifying me of a message someone left for me on facebook. So, I clicked on it just to see who it was. I didn't recognize the name so I started reading the message:

I am helping a friend search for their daughter...we believe you are her call me @ ***-***-****. His name is (first name) (last name), he is your dad

My first thought, being as naive as I can sometimes, was "Oh, someone must be randomly searching for a family member and came across my name." However, when I got to the last line and saw his first and last name, I thought I was going to pass out. It was insane. According to my mom, he's known that she's been in contact with me for 9 years. Why is he trying to find me now? He knows how to get in touch with her. Why isn't he just calling her? Who in the world is this "friend" that's trying to help him? The questions just kept coming.

I sent my mom a text and asked her if she knew the friend by name. She, of course, didn't. I told her the rest of the situation and she said she knew nothing about it and she'd call me after work and we could figure it all out. So I went to school and went on with my normal routine. I thought about the situation off and on all day and wondered what I should do.

I've mentioned before that I don't know how I feel about meeting my dad. It has been so emotionally draining trying to figure out my relationship with my mom that I honestly don;t know if I can pursue another relationship right now. Plus, this one was easy because it was his friend, not him. I thought if he wanted to talk to me, find me, whatever, he could do it himself. It may sound kind of bratty but, unfortunately, my heart is a bit guarded right now. I don't want to be hurt.

When I got home from school, I got on facebook to see if this friend of his had any pictures or other info on her page. She didn't. All it showed was where she lived and that she was a 'she'. No profile pic or anything. I started talking to my husband about it when I noticed another message had popped up. I clicked on it and I read:

I was wondering if you are my sister. (My first, maiden and last names). Daughter of (my mom's first and last name). I was wondering if you know your birth dads name?

I just about died! What on earth is happening? My dad is supposedly looking for me and then my half brother sends me a message the same day looking for me. I could handle the "friend of my dad" situation because it wasn't him, just a friend. But my brother? I don't want to leave him hanging. He has a picture of him with what looks like a girlfriend or something as his profile pic. No other information. I text my mom and she called and told me that he was my dad's middle son with his current wife. He's in high school.

So, like I said...the craziest things happen when you're not looking for them. I haven't messaged anybody back. It just happened yesterday and I'm trying to process it all. What do I want? What should I do? What will I regret if I don't? You know...all the good questions that roll through your mind. I think I might respond to the friend and give her my e-mail and tell her he can contact me that way. i don;t want to call and talk to a complete stranger. As far as my brother's message,I want to respond just to say I got it and yes, I know my birth dad's name. I'm not sure what he wants or is expecting. He's young and obviously has no idea what he's getting himself into. But, really, who does? I know I don't!

If she had only been stronger...

Would I be more confident in myself? Would I have a better understanding of who I really was? Would I still worry that the people I love in my life were going to leave me? Would I still bend over backwards to please people that hurt me the most? Would I be the same me?

No one knows. No one will ever know. Because she wasn't.

She said that she wonders what would have happened had she only been stronger. She said that she could not watch me be raised by my father's family. She said that she did what she thought was best for me. She said that she has been haunted by her choice her entire life. She said that she wishes she had been stronger.

But she wasn't.

Sometimes I wonder, too. If she had only been stronger, who would I be today? But then I realize, it doesn't matter. The past is the past. That cannot be erased. I am me. I am OK with that. I have to be.

We all have issues in our life that leave us to wonder, given a different situation, if your life would have turned out better. You can't dwell on it. It will only eat you alive. You have to move on. However, a small part of you will always wonder. I will always wonder. If she had only been stronger....

My wish

I am not a huge country music fan, but I really like Rascal Flatts. This song, in particular, is one of my favorites. Ironically enough, my mom brought this song up not that long ago. She said she fell in love with it when it came out because it always made her think of me.

She has shared so much this second time around. How much she has always loved me. How she wishes she would have chose to keep me. She has told me that more than anything she wished she would have listened to her heart instead of the people that were literally taking me away from her.

There have been so many times that I have wished that things were different. I used to think if I could have one wish, it would be to see the future. The only reason I would want to see the future is to know if the choice I'm facing is going to end with disappointment or sadness. Who wouldn't want to choose the smoother road? I'm slowly learning that the bumpy roads hurt, but they're the ones that we learn the most from. No one said it would be easy, right?

I have been asked so many times, "If you had to do it all over again..." in regards to my reunion. Even knowing now what I was going to go through...the silence, hurt, sadness, anger, resentment, fear, frustration, confusion, etc...I would choose to do it all over again. Why? Because had I chose the smoother road, at the time, I never would have got to feel what it was like to be loved by my mother. To me, even if it was only for a while, it was worth it.

From Where We Came

About 5 years ago, my adad started doing a lot of family history research. He decided that all of his children needed to know where they came from. He found cousins that he never knew and learned all about great, great great, great great great and even great great great great grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc. He compiled all of his hours of research into these binders with pictures and biographical information and gave each of his kids one for Christmas one year. The binders were titled "From Where We Came". He was so proud of them...and he should have been. He put a lot of work into it. The binders were very informative. He felt so strongly that his children needed all of this information so they could know about their genealogy and where they came. I agree. I was just waiting for him to pull out MY binder with MY genealogy in it. Lucky for me, I didn't hold my breath.

That Christmas, I will never forget sitting down with my brother and sister and flipping through the pages of Great Great Great Grandpa George and his brother Fred and Fred's wife Helen and their 8 children.... As everyone was oohing and awing over their family, I couldn't help but feel more and more separate from them. The more pictures we looked at and the more information I read, the heavier my heart felt. The more curious I became. I wanted to know about MY genes, MY family and where I came from. But, I never said a word. I just quietly flipped through the pages of another family's history and imagined what it would be like to know half of this information about my own.

Since my re-reunion with my mom, I have kept my kids out of it, for the most part. I was a little skeptical if this was for real or not, so I wanted to give it some time before I got them involved. I can risk being hurt, but I try my best to protect my children.

I have talked to my oldest about my mom. She still vaguely remembers her. She talks about her dog and jumping on the trampoline and playing with her older cousins at her mom's house. She knows that she's my mom and I grew in her tummy. She seems to get all that. Well, my daughter's birthday was a month ago and my mom sent her a gift. I was surprised at my daughter's reaction to the gift. Not so much the gift itself, but who it was from. She was thrilled to be receiving something from her natural grandmother. She told me several times that she could not believe that she remembered her and she needed to send her a thank you note. A week or so later we were with my amom and my daughter brings up the gift she got from her "other grandma". I cringed when I heard her start talking about it because I knew the direction it would take. I was just waiting for my mom to blow up. But, she didn't. Right then and there, my daughter starts asking more questions about her, why she didn't keep me, where has she been all these years, and so on. I answered them and my amom just quietly listened. My daughter ended the conversation by saying that we really need to go see her. Wow! Like they say..."Out of the mouths of babes..." I'm sure that will not be the end of it, as far as a reaction from my amom, but I'm also glad my daughter brought it up. I'm glad that she was not afraid to speak up, ask questions, and be heard.

I say this a lot, but it's so, so true. There are too many times in my life that I want to scream out loud how much I hate adoption. Whether it's sitting on the couch staring at someone elses family tree or explaining to my daughter why my own mother couldn't keep me, the conversations and confusion that arise due to it never, ever end. It affects so many people. The bottom line?...EVERYONE wants to know where they come from and who their family is. Even as children, everyone is curious. Not that it's a new revalation for me. It's always been important to me. However, unlike my daughter, I was always too scared to speak up. I never had a voice of my own, but I'm so glad that she does and I'm even more glad that she's not afraid to be heard.

The ugly truth

First of all, thank you so much for the e-mails. I have received several wondering if I had fell off the face of the earth! I guess, in a way, I kinda have. So, to catch you up...

Basically, I have been in a blogging slump. I have tried to read other blogs and keep up with my adoptee friends, but I just have not felt like writing about my life at all. I have thoughts, who doesn't, but I haven't been up to writing about them. Honestly, I have gone back into my own delusional world and haven't felt like coming back into reality. May sound sad, but we deal with life the best we can. In my case, I tend to avoid conflict and/or reality. Sad, but like I said, we deal the best we can.

For the majority of my life I have lived in my own world. A happy world. That is how I taught myself to cope with reality. Reality was hard. Reality made me angry. Reality was not a place I ever wanted to be. Reality sucked. So I did the only thing I knew to do...I avoided it.

I have never been one to speak up for myself. If I felt like others were being mistreated, I would have their back in a heartbeat. But growing up, no one had mine. When I was abused as a child, I chose to ignore it. I pushed the memories back in my mind as far as I could push them. I even convinced myself through most of my childhood and early adulthood that the abuse never even existed. For the absolute longest time, too long probably, I could think back on my childhood and believe that it was all wine and roses. I had that happily ever after. I really did believe it. I had convinced myself that I lived a fairytale life. Sure, I had a few trials, but life "could have been so different for me had my aparents not 'chose' to adopt me". I mean, seriously, if you're told something enough it tends to become your truth. My life was no different. I really and truly believed it. My delusional world reigned over my every thought. Things were good. Life was good. I was happy. Then, my mother waltzed back into my life.

Over the course of our relationship, reality slowly started setting in. And when I say slowly, I mean slooooooowly. It took years for me to process what I was actually feeling. Day by day and story by story, every little piece of me that had been covered in a blanket of denial was being exposed...and it hurt.

The more I got to know my mother, the more I hated everything about my past. I hated her mother for making her do it. I hated my aparents for not giving me a life like my siblings, their biological children, had. I hated myself for not trying to find her sooner. I hated life just because I existed. Then...she waltzed out of my life just as quickly as she came into it. More feelings of anger and hatred emerged. I hated her for abandoning me again. I hated her just because she didn't fight harder in the beginning. I hated myself for hating my aparents...they maybe didn't always protect me, but they didn't pop in and out of my life when convenient...their lack of interest in my life was always consistent -- I knew that I could never really count on them. I was overcome with anger that I never knew even existed inside me. It was ugly, and I did not like it at all.

After many hours of therapy, I was once again sloooooooowly learning to deal with life. Then, my mother comes back into my life once again with a whole new perspective on our relationship and life in general. It's been nice. She's been consistent. I feel happy. So...that's where I've been and where I am today. I am upbeat because I have immersed myself back into the sea of happiness. I have forgiven her of the past four years of rejection. I want to believe that she means it this time and she is going to be there for me to the end. But, the only way that I can believe that is to push the past back in my mind as far as I can. I can't change the past, but I can change the way I look at the future.

My life has been such a contradiction. That is why I have not felt like blogging. I know how a lot of you feel about adoption...whether you are an adoptee, first mom/natural mom/birthmom, or AP...there is so much hurt and heartache involved in the triangle. I don't want to get on here and talk about how great my reunion is and how perfect my relationship is with my mother, because it would not be entirely true. However, if I get on here and talk about how angry I am and how hard it is for me to trust anybody, it will be really hard for me to move forward.

Who knows where I will be a week, month, year from now. I may look back at this post and laugh at my stupidity. I guess I'll have to be ok with that. All I know is that I don't want to let my past dictate my future. Putting myself out there is not easy, but I can no longer beat myself up about every decision I make regarding my adoption. It is what it is, and I'm trying my best to deal with it.

So, I'm taking time to work on my attitude. I'm working on focusing on the positives in my life instead of dwelling on the negatives. I want to be a better wife, mother, and friend. I want to be there for those who are there for me and I can't do that when I am wallowing in my own self-pity. It's time to make some changes in my life. So, for the past month, that is what I have been working on.

So, that's my ugly truth. That's what I have been up to and why I have not been blogging. I thought about deleting my blog for a while, but I don't want to do that. I think we all have a story to share and in sharing it, we are able to make an impact on others going through a similar situation. This journey is truly a rollercoaster. I can click the "publish post" button, talk to my amother and then suddenly be overcome with a completely different point of view. However, I hope I am able to focus more on what I have now and not on what I have lost. We all need some healing, in one way or another, and I am hoping that this is mine.

Who's your daddy?

So...I know who my daddy is. I also know that he doesn't want to have anything to do with me. I've seen him, twice. He didn't know who I was at the time, so it was kind of cool and kind of creepy all the same. I didn't talk to him. I didn't run over to him and give him a hug. I didn't call him repeatedly over the course of a few months begging for his love and acceptance. I did absolutely nothing, but sit in a chair about 10 feet from him and glance his way periodically so not to seem like I was staring. Ok...so, why?

When I think about my birth mom and the idea of her abandoning me again, it breaks my heart. Her absence in my life is so notable. I know I say that a lot, but it is so, so true. My relationship with her is very important to me. I just don't understand why I don't feel the same way about my birth father. Does anyone else feel this way about either parent?

I don't know if it is because she found me and showed interest from the beginning. I don't know if it is because I blame him for not 'being a man' and helping my mom financially so she could keep me. I don't know if it is because I am so emotionally drained from figuring out my relationship with my birth mom that I don't feel like I have room for him. I've wondered if it is because I am a girl and I relate better to my mom. I just don't know.

I guess I don't really have any answers. All things adoption, for me, usually end in a long series of questions and then me saying, "I just don't know." ::sigh:: Maybe one day it will all click and start making sense, but I'm not holding my breath.

A brand new end

I am not a huge John Mayer fan, but I am a huge fan of music. No matter the mood, be it happy, sad, mad or glad, I can find a song that fits. With that said, I have loved the lyrics to his song, "Say". It has been one of the many anthems in my "re"reunion. One of my favorite verses from the song is, "Have no fear for giving in. Have no fear for giving over. You better know that in the end, it's better to say too much than never to say what you need to say again." I have always had a problem expressing my feelings to others. I grew up in a home that didn't really allow for that, so I don't know if it's a learned behavior or if it's just my personality. My guess is a little of both. Whatever the cause, it is a huge struggle of mine.

After the funeral, I more or less was prepared for my birth mom to slowly drift back out of my life. However, that did not happen. It was actually the complete opposite. She would call me about every other night. We would talk for quite a while, sometimes a couple of hours or more, about anything and everything. We talked about us a lot. She was a lot more forthcoming about her emotions. She talked repeatedly about feeling so guilty for giving me up, but she never really addressed the years of silence. Judging by some of the things she said in our conversations, I could piece together different reasons, but I really needed to hear from her what happened. I didn't want to guess, I wanted to know. Every conversation we had, I wondered if it was the last one for a while. I was tired of living with that fear that she was going to walk out of my life again.

As much as I wanted to just come out and ask her, I was afraid of how she would respond. Would it make her mad? Would she tell me I was being selfish just thinking of myself after her mom just died tragically? Would she hang up on me and never call again? Regardless of my fears, I had to know. I didn't want another conversation to go by without finding out what happened. I didn't want to make the same mistakes again. So, I finally got the nerves to say what I needed to say. Finally.

When I asked her what happened she took a deep breath, followed by another one, and then there was a long pause on the phone. I asked her if she was OK, and she said yes. I could tell she was crying. I quietly started crying as she explained. It basically was all the things I had assumed. Her husband did not know about me and when she told him, he was very upset. Not so much about me, but the fact that my biological father was who he was...a black man. (I guess some things never change.) He gave her a very hard time about that. She also said that she had an overwhelming amount of guilt and sadness about not being there for me. That she gave me away and let total strangers raise me. The fact that she missed it all. She said it was, and still is, very overwhelming.

So, I asked her if all of that was the cause, how was I to believe that things would be better this time around? The feelings were still there, why did she think she could "handle it" now? Again, long pause, deep breaths, lots of tears, followed with another explanation. She told me that she knew she was wrong. She was so disappointed in herself for how she handled our relationship and even during the time she was not talking to me, she thought about me every single day. She said my entire life, a day never went by where she did not think about me several times. She said that losing her mom was a huge wake-up call for her because it happened so quickly and without warning. She did not want something to happen to me and for me to not know how much I meant to her and how much she loved me and always has.

My birth mom and I are alike in so many ways it is often freaky. I don't know how many times I have wondered how you can be so much like a person you spent the majority of your informative years away from. Our similarities are good and bad. One of the bad ones is our lack to truly express how we're feeling. This time around, we have talked about this particular flaw and have vowed to share our feelings with each other and not hold anything back. So far, it has gone very well. I love sharing my life with her. I think we both have our moments where we think about what could have been. Those times are sad, but I'm trying my hardest to move beyond the past. I think my birth mom said it best. She said that no one can go back and make a brand new start, but anyone can start from now and make a brand new end. I'm really counting on it.

Mama, do you love me?

If you have small children, you more than likely have come across this book before while perusing the bookstore or library. Maybe it's the elementary teacher coming out in me, but I LOVE children's books. They're simple, sweet, and full of meaning. This book is no different. It is a touching story about a little girl who imagines different scenarios to test her mother's love and devotion. No matter what scenario the little girl comes up with, her mother reassures her and lets her know how deep her love is for her. It's a very sweet story about a child's insecurities and a mother's unconditional love.

I really struggle with this very thing in my reunion with my birth mom. Love is such a complex emotion. It is sometimes hard for me to understand how she could possibly love me. She says it, but how do I know she really means it? In some ways, I'm a little jealous of the girl in the story. I didn't have the opportunity to grow up in a world where I could ask that simple question, "Mama, do you love me?". After all, my mom gave me away. If she loved me, she would have kept me. She would have tried harder, fought longer, found a way to make it work. Now, here I am an adult... she was in my life, then out of my life, now she's back in and she's telling me she loves me? How do I know?

The connection I have with my birth mom cannot be described with words. I love her very much. Having her in my life is so very important to me. Deep down, I believe her when she tells me she loves me. I really do. It's just sometimes the child inside me fears that love could fade based on the different scenarios that I've imagined. But, I am slowly learning to trust. I just wish it were all a little easier.

Regrets

We all have them. I think it's impossible to live a life with absolutely no regrets I think that's why we have the saying, "hindsight is 20/20"...or something like that.

I definitely have my share of regrets in my life. There have been plenty of times that I wished I could take something back I said, say something that I chose to keep to myself, reacted differently to a situation...the list is endless. My reunion journey has been no different. When conversations did not go well I would think of all that I should have said differently. When opportunities arose to ask questions and I didn't, I would get so frustrated at myself for letting the moment pass by without mentioning anything. When I needed to do something just because it was the right thing to do and I didn't, I would wonder over and over again if the choice i made would haunt me later.

I know I'm not alone. I am sure everyone has something they wish they could go back and change. However, since that time machine has yet to be invented, there is no other choice than to move on. That is something that I have been trying to work on. It's hard, but I'm trying.

So, back to the story... The night before the funeral I talked to my birth mom. I didn't go into a lot of detail about my feelings, our relationship, not really feeling a part of the family, etc, but I did touch the surface on it all. We had a very good talk and she said that she understood. She told me that she had a lot of regrets about how she treated me and how she handled our relationship. She sounded like she truly did see where I was coming from and that made me feel very relieved.

At the end of the conversation, I told her that I would not be there. She again told me that she understood and apologized for things not being different. I thought that I had made the right decision. That was until the next morning.

I hadn't slept well the night before and woke up feeling very unsettled. As I was driving to school, I kept thinking that I should be driving an hour and a half the opposite direction to the funeral. I was constantly looking at the clock thinking of her and what she was doing as it came closer to the time for it to begin. Even though I had a very good conversation with her the night before, I could not get her off my mind. The what-if's were starting to set in and I was afraid I'd regret my decision.

I am always looking for 'signs'. Since I am a terrible deciison maker, I always play games with myself and look for a sign to help me decide what to do. Not being there was driving me crazy. I didn't know what to do. I told her I wouldn't be there. Now I was regretting it. I had a hundred other thoughts going through my head, so I decided I needed a sign. I was going to call my birth mom and if she answered, I was going to tell her that I would be there. So, I did. And she didn't answer. That was my sign.

I arrived at school and started the day. I usually do not keep my phone out because I do not have time to talk while teaching, but for some reason I did. Halfway through the morning I saw my phone flashing, so I knew i had missed a call. It was her. She had left a message.

I had my teacher's assitant watch my class while I stepped out of the room to check it. When I heard her voice I lost it. She sounded so sad. She told me that she was sorry she missed my call. She went to the funeral home by herself to say goodbye to her mom. She said it was very hard, but something she needed to do. She said that she really wished I was there and that would have been good, but she understood. She said she loved me and would call me later that night. Oh...sometimes life REALLY sucks!

Do I have regrets about my decision? Yes, I do. However, I have come to look at all of this as a learning process. I don't think there is anything that can prepare you for this journey. There is no amount of therapy that you can get to ensure you that you will make all the right decisions and get through this without an ounce of regret. It's impossible. So instead of beating myself up over my past, I'm trying to learn from those mistakes. Maybe it will get easier down the road. At least it's a start, and I think I owe that to myself.

Now or Never

I was heavy with sadness. I was so torn as to what I should do. I was angry that it was a decision that I had to even contemplate. What child should have to make a decision as to whether or not it was appropriate to attend their grandmother's funeral? It was, however, my reality and I had a choice to make.

I thought about my relationship with my birth mom. It had been nonexistent for the past four years. But if this accident had truly caused her to change and she really wanted a relationship with me, would I later regret not being there? I beat myself over this for the five days until the funeral.

I felt like I had no one to turn to. I wasn't seeing a therapist at that time and I did not have much support from my husband and friends. I did not blame them at all. I would have been the same way if the tables were turned. I totally understood why. They dealt with my tears, anger and frustration in relation to how she had treated me. They only knew that she had hurt me. They thought I needed to forget about her and move on with my life. If only it was that easy.

I had been talking to my birth mom throughout the week since the accident and before the funeral and had caught up somewhat on what was going on in our lives since she stopped communicating with me. I decided that I would just talk to her about the funeral and why I was not comfortable going. Each time we talked I had the words on the tip of my tongue, but I could not bring myself to do it. It seemed so insensitive on my part. She was grieving her mom's death and, at the time, did not know what her dad's outcome was going to be. She was planning a funeral with her sisters, her dad was in a coma in a hospital in another state unable to even attend his wife's funeral, she had a recurrence of cancer, and she was separated from her husband. I felt like I was just being a baby and I needed to get over myself. This was about her...not me.

However, that was my problem and continues to be to this day. I am always excusing the behavior and actions of others because I feel like I'm being selfish if I mention how I feel. I so often get caught up in what is going on in other's lives that I do not take care of myself. Why would anyone treat me with respect if they know I'll take whatever crap they give me, forgive easily, then move on like nothing ever happened?

Despite my feelings, I still had to decide what to do. I only had a day left to do it. Should I stay or should I go? Did I mention I am a terrible decision maker? I wish I had the support of my adoptee friends I have now at that time. I know it would have helped.

No one ever said it would be easy

When she called the next night, we talked for quite some time. She shared more details about the accident, how her dad was doing, and some of the drama surrounding extended family as well as the plans they had for the funeral. I just listened and tried my hardest to wrap my head around everything that was going on. Why does life have to be like this? Why does everything have to be so complicated? WHY DID I HAVE TO BE ADOPTED?! I found myself in probably the worst dilemma I had ever faced.

On one hand, I had been trying to reach out to my birth mom for years. I wanted her in my life so bad I could hardly stand it. I called, I wrote, called again, wrote again, called, called, called, wrote, wrote, wrote for FOUR YEARS with no response. I cried buckets of tears over the whole situation and put my family and friends through hell and back all because I wanted her in my life. I had FINALLY got to a point where I was nearing acceptance. I had to. I heard how she felt about me. Even though I didn't believe it, she still said those words. She treated me like crap with no regard to my feelings whatsoever. And now, her mother is gone, she's grieving, she's hurting beyond words...and now she's back, and she wants me in her life.

Not only does she want me in her life, but she wants me to be at the funeral. Not just the funeral, she wants me to attend the "family viewing" and stay for the meal afterwards. Seriously? She had not talked to me in four years. At that point, I still did not know if her son knew that I even existed. I guess I should mention that she also shared with me that my name and my children's names were not included in the obituary because it would possibly complicate things for her dad when he got better. OK... BUT I am supposed to attend the family viewing, family dinner, and funeral? SERIOUSLY?!

I was back at square one. I did not feel at all a part of my biological family. I was denied that at birth, and then again 28 years later. My emotions and thoughts were all over the place. Since my birth mom was grieving, I felt it was not the time or place to share why I was not at all comfortable attending. I wanted to so bad. I wanted to know what had happened the four years she ignored me. I wanted to tell her that if she wanted me to be a part of the family she needed to treat me like I was. If she didn't want my name listed as part of the family that was fine, but please do not expect me to come sit with the family and pretend as if I belonged there. I had pretended to feel like I belonged somewhere my whole life. I was tired of lies, deception and feeling inadequate. I wanted to belong, and this was definitely not it.

So, back to my dilemma. I love her. A lot. I wanted to be there for her. She had hurt me, but I knew she was hurting. I didn't want to leave her hanging like she did me. But, as much as her words said she wanted me there, her actions were not showing that. She was still denying me from being a part of the family. I could be there in body, but my name would not be included in anything.

Now, I realize that it can take a traumatic event to make you wake up and realize that life is too short to live with regrets. But how did I know if this was real? How did I know that she was so distraught she was just reaching out to find something to make her feel better. Anything...even if it was her rejected daughter. I loved her, but I did not know if I trusted her.

I had a major decision to make and I am probably one of the worst decision makers EVER. If it involves solely myself, it's not quite as difficult for me to decide what to do. However, if others thoughts and/or feelings are affected by the decision I have to make, in my head it becomes virtually impossible. It does not matter how big or small it is...what movie to watch or whether or not to attend a funeral can be incredibly tough decisions for me. I worry too much about letting others down. It is a definite character flaw that I have abhorred my entire life. I was at a loss. I was afraid if I didn't go, I may regret it later. But I was also afraid that if I did go, everyone would wonder who I was and why was I there? I did not want to feel rejected and out of place. Not again...I didn't know if I could take it.

I was back on the roller coaster. I couldn't think. I wanted so desperately to find a way out of the situation. Unfortunately, there was not one.

And the story continues to unfold....

Fast forward to a month after sending the letter to my birthmom. It is now the end of January of 2010. For the first time in the nearly 4 years since being out of contact with my birth mom, I felt that I was at a better place. I had finally reached a point where I realized that my life would not include my biological mother. Did I still think about her? Of course. Was I still disappointed things were not different? Definitely. I still felt the loss, but the sting was finally starting to numb. I had a family of my own that needed me to be the best I could be. So, I was doing just that...trying to be my best.

That all changed one Saturday, when I received a call from my birth mom. When I saw it was her, I immediately shut down. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to answer the phone, but a huge part of me was saying -- 'NOOOOOOO!!!". "What in the world could she want?" "She hasn't called you in 4 years!" "You are FINALLY beginning to cope without her." -- Needless to say, I didn't answer it, but she left a message. I waited a couple of hours to listen to it. I'm not sure why I waited so long. I guess I was trying to prepare myself, but I have no idea what for. When I finally listened to it, this is what she said:

Hi. It's me. I was just calling to tell you that there has been
an accident at mom and dad's and I felt like I needed to tell
you about it. Please call me as soon as you can. I'll talk to
you later. Bye.

So...what do you think happens next? I asked myself a hundred questions after listening to her message several times. I will post the details within the next couple of days. Wondering when the drama will end? Me too! ::Sigh::

Moving on

What could I do other than move on with my life? She had not been a part of my life for a few years, and the chance phone conversation we had obviously gave me quite a bit to think about.

I played the conversation over and over in my head. The more I thought about it, the less I understood why she said all of the things that she said about me to her friend. It was like she was talking about a completely different relationship...not ours. The things she said were not even true. We talked on the phone often, but at random times throughout the day...not way late so I was keeping her up. She usually came to visit me instead of the other way around because of her family at home. She always told me it was easier that way. I am not sure what she meant about not telling my family about her. It was difficult, but I told them about her before I ever started my contact with her.

I was beyond confused, but had no choice other than to move on. I had wanted to know what happened, why she stopped all contact with me...I got my answer. Not at all what I wanted to hear, but it was an answer.

I am pretty good at hiding my feelings. I had years of practice, so it really didn't take much effort to muster up a smile and act like everything was OK. Any spare time that I had, I filled it with other tasks to keep my mind busy. The key was to stay as busy as possible so I didn't have time to think. If I didn't have time to think, I didn't have time to feel. That was the plan, at least. However, this was different. It was much more difficult than I thought.

The fact that I was rejected by my birth mom for the second time hurt me to the core. No matter how hard I tried to bottle it up and stuff it as deep as I could, the reality was still there. Every time I looked at one of my own kids, I wondered "how could a mother reject her own child?". I understood the adoption part of it...she was young, she thought she was doing the right thing by me. I got that. I had accepted that. But to be given a second chance, just to reject me again was like a slap in the face. I started questioning myself and wondering what was wrong with me. Why didn't she want me? What made me so unlovable?

A couple months had passed and still no word. You would think, by now, I would not be holding on to the hope that she would call or write. She had proven to me that she was not interested. She had completely bashed me and our relationship to a new friend of hers, but there I was...still waiting, wondering if today was going to be the day.

After talking to my bf's one day, I finally got the push that I needed. I was forced into reality and realized that I had 3 babies of my own that needed me. I had been so depressed and so hurt by everything that had happened, that I was not the mother that my own children deserved. It was time for a change. As much as it hurt, as hard as it was, I HAD to let her go. So, I sat down and wrote her a letter.

I can't remember everything that I wrote about. I told her that it would be the last letter or form of contact that she received from me. I took the comments that she had made in her letter into consideration as I wrote it, mentioning several false accusations she had mentioned. It wasn't an angry letter, but it was very honest and straight forward. I mentioned feeling hurt about the things that I heard her say. I told her that if she would have voiced her thoughts and feelings to me, we maybe wouldn't have got to the point we were at. I told her that I was hurt, but needed closure to the situation so I was basically saying good-bye. I told her from that point forward, the ball was in her court. I had tried and tried to force a relationship that she obviously resented and I was done. I wanted her in my life, but I didn't have anything left. I fought for four years, and received nothing...not one letter, one phone call, absolutely nothing.

It was around Christmas when I wrote the letter and for some reason I felt compelled to include our photo Christmas card. She had not seen my 3 year old and 9 month old before. I had withheld sending pictures with any letters I wrote her while we weren't talking. It was really just my way of controlling the situation as much as I could. Crazy, but true. In order to truly move on, I felt like I needed to let go of my anger towards her and the situation as much as possible. I guess the pictures were a peace offering of sorts.

I read the letter twenty times, at least, before I finally sealed the envelope and dropped it in the mail. As I dropped it in the mailbox, I did feel a small glimmer of hope as I walked away. I hoped that maybe she would find it in her to want to call me. Maybe something I said in the letter would move her just enough to want to reconcile our relationship.

Hope was the only thing that kept me going. Others may think of it as a weakness...pathetic, ridiculous, naive..whatever you want to call it. However, for me, hope was the one thing that no one could take from me. When I found myself in the darkest moments of my life, all I could do was hope for a sunnier tomorrow. So that is what I did.

Be careful what you wish for...

'cause you just might get it. You know how I said "If I only had some closure, it would make it easier to move on?". That's what I wished for...and I definitely got it.

After I heard my birthmom say that she had a secret, I was drawn into the conversation. I wanted to hang up, but I couldn't. What I was hearing was tearing me apart, but I still would not hang up. I continued to stay on the phone and listen to her describe our relationship to her friend.

She first explained her secret. She had placed a baby for adoption when she was 17 years old. She had wondered my whole life how I was and where I was. She explained that she had 'found' me when I was 24 and was good with that. That is all she wanted. She didn't want a relationship with me, she just wanted to make sure I was ok. Once she found out I was ok, she was ready to move on. However, I made that difficult for her. I would call her all the time and keep her on the phone really late. She said that was really hard on her because she had to get up and go to work early, and I didn't understand that. She talked about how she would come see me often and I didn't return the 'favor' near as much. She talked about how I wanted her family to know all about me, but I didn't want my family (meaning my adoptive parents) to know about her. She also said that I only wanted it to be her and me, no one else, and that was hard because she had a child at home still to take care of. She said I blamed her for all of my abandonment issues and I made her feel so guilty. She also mentioned how it totally pissed her off that I didn't tell her when I had my son and how she found out that I had him. One thing that sticks out the most is when she said that if she knew it was me, she would not have answered. Ouch. I couldn't stand to hear anymore, so I hung up the phone.

There was more than that said and it was all explained in much more detail. It still breaks my heart to think about it. As I listened, I couldn't believe she was saying all those things. We had some issues, no doubt. There was a huge adjustment period after the honeymoon phase was over, but I NEVER, EVER, EVER thought that I was that much of a burden on her. I could literally feel a physical pain in my chest as I listened to how big of an inconvenience I was to her.

After I hung up, I sat in my husband's recliner. I felt completely numb. I felt like crying, but I was still processing everything I heard. Was that really true? Is that really how she felt about me? In the four years that we were in contact, I never felt that she couldn't stand me. It was a very, very low moment, but even lost in the trenches of that moment I had a little hope that she would call me the next day like she said she would.

I continued to sit there, trying to process everything that she said. I was devising a plan. When she called the next day, I was going to talk to her about what I overheard and explain why I was the way that I was. I was going to tell her the truth about my afamily and the abuse and loneliness that I had experienced growing up. I was going to tell her that I didn't have the fairytale life growing up and I had always longed for her. I would explain that once I had her in my life I tried maybe a little too hard for fear that I would lose her. I had it all figured out. Now that I knew why she had turned her back on me, I was going to talk to her and win her back. I now knew what I needed to do and not do to have the relationship with her that I desired.

I waited the next day for her phone call. I waited, and waited, and waited...as you probably imagined, she did not call back. BUT, I still had hope. I figured maybe she got in later then she planned, so she would call back the next day. I waited again, and again, day after day, OH MY WORD!!!! I am beyond pathetic! I wanted closure, and Lord knows, I had it. I had all the information I needed to know that she did not want me. It hurt, but I needed to move on. I didn't need that in my life. I had my own babies to focus my time and attention on. Let her go!

But, the truth is, I honestly (and still to this day) did not believe she meant any of the horrible things that she said. There is no way. I refused to believe it, because I knew her. I knew how she hurt. I knew how she tried to get me back shortly after I was born and already placed with my adoptive family. I knew how she searched for me. She found me, not the other way around. I had listened to her tell me, on a number of occasions, how much her decision to give me up changed her life and she wished more than anything that she could go back and do it differently. I KNEW that she cared and I KNEW that she loved me. There was no way that she had been lying to me before. I didn't know what was going on with her, but I knew that those things she said were not coming from her. So, I clung to the past and I focused on only the good things that she had said about me and our relationship. Call it naive, but I would not accept what I heard as truth. I continued to hold on to that hope that she would come back to me.

So, back to "be careful what you wish for.."...Was I really looking for closure? No, I was not. I was looking for my mom and I was not going to give up until I found her.

Closure

Two more years had passed since I saw my bdad. It had also been two more years since I had heard from my birth mom. As much as I liked to pretend that I was OK and had moved on, that was really not the case. Absolutely no one understood why I wanted to pursue a relationship with her. My husband got upset every time I talked about her. He didn't get why "I let her bother me so much". My two closest friends got irritated pretty much at the mention of her name. They all knew that she hurt me, and they were done with her. I realized that she hurt me, but I just wanted more. I kept thinking, if I only knew what happened to cause her to stop talking to me I would be able to move on. Sitting in the dark, so to speak, alone with my thoughts was driving me nuts. I needed some closure. At that time, I didn't care what she said to me. She could tell me how awful, needy, and suffocating I was...I didn't care. At least I would know what was wrong. Not knowing was very difficult for me.

It had been a year or more since I had tried to contact her. It wasn't really by choice, however, after writing several letters and calling multiple times, you kind of start to feel like a freak. So, I let it go. Outwardly, at least. One evening, I was driving home from my friends house. I had been thinking about her a lot. A lot of personal things were going on in my life and it's usually at those moments when I wanted to reach out to her more. It was also right around her 50th birthday. I had told my friends earlier that if I only had some closure, maybe I could move forward. I knew it was crazy. Who was I kididng? I figured I didn't have anything to lose. More then likely, she wouldn't even answer. So, I decided to take the plunge. I took a deep breath, scrolled down to her number in my phone, took another deep breath, and then pushed send. One ring...two rings...three rings..."Hello?"

I almost dropped the phone. It took me a minute to collect myself. It had been almost four years since I had heard her voice. When I said her name and told her it was me, I was afraid that she would hang up, but she didn't. She didn't sound thrilled to be talking to me, but she was civil. She shared a few things that had been going on with her. All of them were major, so I hated not knowing about them or not being there for her. She asked what I had been doing. Since we had talked last, I had another baby, so we talked about that. After about ten minutes, she said she needed to go. She said she was with a friend out of town celebrating her birthday, but would be back home the next day and would call me then.

I DID NOT want to hang up the phone. I had a feeling if I did, it would be the last time I would talk to her. She said good-bye, I said good-bye, and I sat on the phone waiting to hear her hang up. (I don't know why, but that's what I always do. Rarely do I hang up first. I always wait for the other person to hang up before I do. I guess I really do not like good-bye's!!) Anyway...I heard a beep, like she had pushed a button on her phone, but it didn't hang up. I guess she had pushed the wrong button and thought she had hung up. I don't know. Next thing I knew, she was talking to her friend about me. I heard her tell her friend that she had a secret. I should have hung up, but I was so curious as to what that 'secret' was and what she would say. I know I should have hung up, but I didn't. I sat on the phone for way longer then I should have and listened. What I was hearing would give me all the closure I ever wanted...and then some.

Moving Forward

After our initial meeting, the honeymoon continued. Life was great...the best it had ever been. I was so happy. I knew my parents, especially my mom, were not thrilled with the situation, but it was what it was and they knew they had no control. We dealt with it by not talking about it. Not good,I know, but at that time I was just trying to figure out how to deal with everything and keep my head above water. They never brought it up, so neither did I. We were all just ready to move forward.

A couple months after our initial meeting, my birth mom wanted me to meet her parents. I was apprehensive because I didn't know how I felt about them. After all, if her parents would have supported her decision to keep me I would never have been placed for adoption. I could have grown up with my birth mom instead of meeting her for the first time at 25. They were very close...something else that I felt I missed out on...but I knew it was very important to her that I meet them, so I went through with it. More for her then me, but I was glad that I did.

It was like a mini family reunion. I took my daughter with me. Her parents were there, one of her sisters, two of her aunts, and her niece. They were all so warm and loving. Her mom greeted me with open arms and a few tears. She didn't say much, at first, but she didn't have to. I could see it in her eyes. I looked at photo albums, answered questions about my life, listened to their stories...I enjoyed every minute of it.

I was living a dream. I could not have been happier. Not realizing at the time, I was still enjoying the honeymoon. I had no idea how things were about to change.

The Meeting

We continued talking on the phone and writing letters for about 8 months. During that time, conversation was very easy. We could talk about anything...serious or the mundane. I loved that about her. We had talked about meeting on several different occasions. I wanted to, but I was also scared. I was scared that we would be moving, yet again, to that next level. I loved her and wanted her in my life, but I also was unsure of what the future would hold for us from that point on.

After our initial phone conversation, the next pivotal moment for me was receiving the first letter from her and pictures. I had always had my thoughts on what she looked like, and of course reality was not what I had imagined. I don't mean that in a bad way either. I thought she was beautiful. I absolutely LOVED having pictures of my biological family. Her friend had copied some pictures of my biological father that she found in a yearbook. Those were nice to have too. I don't know why, but I had always been more curious about my birth mom. I mean, it's nice and all to know about your dad and what he looked like and such, but my birth mom was who I really was curious about.

I stared at the pictures over and over again. Pieces of the puzzle were slowly put together as I looked at them. I had wondered my whole life where my dimples came from. Not one person in my adoptive family had dimples. When I saw her picture, that was the first thing I noticed...I got my dimples from her! I CRIED big time as I looked at the pictures and especially when I read her letter.

We continued to stay in touch. I talked to her on the phone about once a week for the first month. After that it progressed to about a couple of times a week, and at times about every other night. Sometimes I would talk to her each day for several days in a row. It was like an addiction of sorts -- weird sounding, I know, but that's the only way I can think to describe it. I WANTED to talk to her all the time. There was so much that we had to catch up on. I craved her attention and affection. The more we talked, the more I wanted to know her and have her in my life. I knew it was time and I was ready to meet face to face.

We had talked often about when/where we were going to meet. Neither of us wanted it to be a big, all family thing. We thought it would be best if it was just her and I for that first time. Her son still did not know about me. She told me all the time that she wanted to tell him, but was waiting for the right time. I kept telling her I understood and, at the time, I thought I did. As long as she reassured me she loved me and had always loved me, I was pacified enough to take whatever she was willing to give me. We finally decided on a date.

I will never forget that day (I find myself saying that a lot when talking about this). My friends had my daughter for the day. My husband, a coach, had a basketball game that evening so he was out for the day. I was alone. I was ready for a couple of hours before she got there. I wanted everything to be perfect. I examined my outfit several times. I STILL remember to this day what I was wearing. I was so worried about what she would think of me. Would she think that I was pretty? Would she like me? Probably the usual questions when meeting someone for the first time. However, when you're meeting your mom face to face for the first time at the age of 25...the emotions are crazy! I wanted SO bad to be accepted by her and have her approval. I was so nervous.

As I was waiting for her to get to my house, reality was setting in. I wondered what it was going to be like to actually see her. By now, her voice was very familiar and comforting to me. After all, we had talked to each other hundreds of times over the phone. I wondered if talking in person would be any different or less comfortable. I wondered if it was going to be one of those emotional, made for TV kind of reunions. I had lots of thoughts. That day, that time before she arrived is still so vivid. I remember looking out the window 500 times. I remember fixing the wreath on the door and sweeping off the stray leaves that had made their way onto the front porch again. I even walked out to the driveway and looked at my house, trying to get a 'picture' in my mind of what she would see when she drove up. Tired of pacing, I finally just sat on the couch and thought about how life could have been so different.

I finally heard her pull into my driveway. Peeking out the window, my eyes filled with tears as I saw her step out of her car and look around. There she was...my birth mom. My very own flesh and blood. Again, there are no words to fully describe the emotions of that moment. I quickly got myself together and opened the door to greet her. As she stepped through the doorway and embraced me, it was the best feeling. I am a very 'huggy' kind of person anyway, but I literally could feel how much she loved me in that one hug. I can't adequately describe the moment, but I can still feel it today.

There were not too many tears. Some teary moments, but nothing uncontrollable. She brought some photo albums of herself growing up and her family. I really enjoyed looking at them and hearing about and seeing everyone. We ate lunch together and discovered our favorite entree was the same. We discovered that we both had the same habit of pulling on the bottom of our shirt when we're talking or nervous. Silly things, but those silly little similarities meant a lot to me. We went and picked up my daughter from my friends' house. She was so great with her. We went and got ice cream and then went to my husband's game. I was so glad she got to meet the people in my life that meant the most to me. It was one of the best days of my life. I didn't want the day to end.

After she got home that night, she called me to tell me how wonderful the day was for her. She told me that she thought I was beautiful and I was a great wife and mom. She talked for a couple of hours. We both cried. I mainly listened as she shared her regrets with me and played her own 'what if' game. She said she wondered if she could have done it, if she could have just kept me. What would have happened to us? Would I have been as well adjusted. I felt for her. I think, more than anything, she was regretting the fact that she missed 25 years of my life. I understood probably more than she thought I did. I understood because I missed that with her too.

The Phone Call

The fact that I was only a phone call away from talking to my birth mom for the very first time was beginning to drive me nuts. I was so scared to make the call. For weeks the biggest thought on my mind was "What in the world do I say? How do I start the conversation? Who do I tell her I am?" I also knew once I called her, there was no turning around. The fantasy of my birth mom would no longer exist. Instead, there would be a new reality.

I was hanging out with my two very best friends. They are my family. We are very close and they are always so supportive of me. Anyway, we were talking about the 'phone call' for the millionth time. They knew I wanted to, but they also knew I was scared. After much talk, coaxing, and even bribing (I know, how pathetic am I?), I went into the bedroom and made the phone call that would forever change me.

She answered after a couple of rings. I was taken aback just upon hearing her voice. How I knew it was her, I don't know. It could have been anyone -- a daughter, mother, sister -- but I just knew. I stumbled around at the beginning, pausing for a few seconds after each sentence waiting for her to say something. I guess I was expecting an "OMG!!" kind of thing, but she was very quiet. I could tell she was emotional, but holding it together. She said she had been waiting for me to call for a few weeks. The social worker had told her I had her number and would be calling. I felt guilty that I had kept her waiting.[I have to add this side note...As my story unfolds on this blog, I am driving myself nuts at how many times I say I feel guilty about something. Is it just as annoying to read?!]

Anyway...we talked for about 20 minutes. She wanted to know how I was and if I was happy. It felt good to know that she cared. The social worker had told her I was a teacher and that I was married and had a baby. She asked about my adoptive parents and family. I, of course, told her how wonderful everyone was and I had a great life. After all, isn't that how it was supposed to be? She told me that she had a son. He was 10 years younger than me. He did not know about me. For some reason, I wasn't surprised by that and at the time it didn't bother me. She was married and had two step children as well. We talked about my biological father. She still saw him from time to time. He was married and had three boys. For some reason, I always had in my fairy tale that they ended up married and lived happily ever after. However, if that had truly happened, I am sure I would have been totally pissed that I was not a part of that family. Needless to say, it was probably best that my fairy tale had not played out.

Her voice was so calm and quiet the whole time I talked to her. Towards the end of the conversation, I gave her my phone number and address. I told her I would send her pictures of me. She said she would do the same. It was so surreal. I will never forget how I felt. I can't tell you every word of the conversation, but I remember feeling like I was dreaming...just waiting to jolt up from bed realizing it was all just a really great dream. I NEVER, EVER, EVER, imagined that this would be happening to me. I held it together very well while I was talking to her. I remember taking several deep breaths, but made it through the conversation just fine. However, when I hung up the phone I just lost it. I was releasing all the anxiety that had been building over the weeks prior. It all hit me at once...she had found me. We had found each other. What now?

Revelation

When I arrived at my parents house my mom was not there. Immediately, I felt somewhat relieved because my dad was easier to talk to about BIG, SHOCKING news then my mom. I knew he would take whatever I said and mull over it before he reacted. My mom, on the other hand, wore her feelings on her sleeve. She could not hide what she was thinking or feeling. So, like I said, I was relieved that I could talk to my dad first.

I am not a very blunt person. I take FOREVER to tell a story because I am very detailed oriented (hence this blog taking 500 posts to tell my story....) and hate to leave something out! Well, on this particular day, I was totally out of sorts. I walked in my parents' house and my dad was sitting at the kitchen table eating lunch. I didn't even ask where my mom was. I just blurted out, "My birth mom is wanting to have contact with me." My dad looked at me with a genuinely surprised expression, and said "Really?! That's great." I immediately relaxed. Maybe this will not be so bad after all, I thought. We talked for a little bit and I told him how I knew and the social worker that had called me, etc. After that, we started talking about my mom. He wanted to make sure that I understood that she probably would not take this news very well. He told me that he felt she would probably feel threatened that she was going to be replaced by a new mom. Of course, I felt guilty and reassured him that I would never do that. After about 30minutes or so of talking my mom came home.

Initially, she was concerned because it was noon and I was at their house and not at work. I told her everything was fine. Then my dad cut in and told my mom I had some big news. I could tell by my mom's face that she thought I was going to share that she was going to be a grandma again or some exciting piece of news of that sort. Again, I just blurted it out. There was no sugar coating it. I will never forget the look of horror on her face. It was as if I told her I had a terminal illness or something catastrophic had happened. She started shaking her head no and telling me that I couldn't talk to her. She said so many terrible things about my birth mom...how she didn't love me, she probably wanted something from me....I mean so many awful things that I can't even bring myself to type. I just sat on the couch and cried. I was so confused. I hated that this was happening. I hated that I was even born. I hated this situation. I hated adoption. I hated that I was feeling worse and worse by the second as I was listening to my mom rant.

After about 20 minutes or so, she calmed down. She wanted to know details about how I knew she was trying to contact me. She was really mad at the state because she felt they should have been contacted first. Even though I was well over the legal age of adulthood, my mom was angry that they were not contacted. She and my dad said, "What if we hadn't told you you were adopted and this was how you found out?" They immediately hired an attorney with the mindset that they were going to work to have laws changed to protect families of adopted children.

At this point, over the next few days, I started to really think about my life. I thought about my childhood and growing up. I thought of my siblings. I thought about my husband and my 9 month old baby. I slowly started to realize that life as I knew it, was changed forever. That in itself made me very angry. The blissful memories of childhood that I had clung to, were now overshadowed by the reality of this situation. Was I ever as happy as I thought I was? I always remeber feeling like I owed my parents my life. I could have ended up anywhere, but they took me in, fed me, clothed me, took me to church..all the things parents are supposed to do. I felt like I owed them the world and I spent a large part of my life 'paying them back'. Oh, the thoughts. They wouldn't go away.

I was raised thinking that my birth mom really loved me. My mom had always told me that she had to love me because she carried me to term instead of having an abortion. My mom would always tell me how brave my birth mom was. How difficult it had to be to know you had a child out there somewhere. How sad she must have felt at every birthday realizing that another year had passed without knowing who I was and if I was OK. The person who was now cursing the moment my birth mom was born, had told me all those things my entire life. I then became angry at my mom. I felt like she believed all those things as long as my birth mom was not in the picture. All I remember about those first couple of weeks was crying a lot. I would go from angry to incredibly sad, to excited, to scared, to sad, to angry, to sad...do you see the roller coaster here?

Over the next couple of weeks, every time I talked to my parents they were talking about the lawyer, the state, laws, etc. They never once asked how I was holding up, if I had decided to call her, etc. I knew that they were trying to deal with the news the best they could, but once again, I felt forgotten. I wondered if anyone cared about me. Does anyone understand or care to understand how I'm feeling?

My mom did tell me a couple days later that she was wrong for saying bad things about my birth mom. She admitted being upset and overreacting. However, as guilt ridden as I was, I knew my mom would feel betrayed if I ever did talk to my birth mom. Oh, how I wished I could get off the guilt train!! It literally was killing me!

We got to the point where we really didn't talk much about the subject at all. They were ready to move on, and to an extent, I was as well. However, the wedge between us was being driven a little further, pushing us farther apart. I would still be the same loving daughter. I would still be there to help with the family business. I would still be the glue that held my siblings together and keep the family as close as possible. I would still be who what they wanted me to be, but I had no idea who I wanted to be.

I carried my birth mom's name and phone number around in my wallet for several weeks. Based on my mom's reaction, I didn't know if I wanted to talk to my birth mom. I didn't know what she wanted and I was scared to continue putting myself and my family through all of the emotions if she wasn't in it for the right reasons. I have no idea what those 'un'right reasons would be, but I couldn't help but be curious. I never knew that I wanted to know my birth mom until that time came. I was so scared. I was so worried about my future from that point on. I knew as soon as I decided to pursue it, nothing would ever be the same. However, at this point, I felt like it was already too late. I was already changed.

Learning about my birth mom

"Just breathe", was all that I could say to myself. I COULD NOT believe that my birth mom was looking for me. I had a million questions. How did she find me? Did she know who I was? Had I known her my whole life, but didn't know it? Question after question raced through my mind. I was in complete shock. Since I was in the middle of teaching, I told her that I would have to call her back after school.

Needless to say, the rest of my day was drowned in a sea of thoughts. I was really excited. I could not believe that God had answered my prayers in such an amazing way. When I called the lady from the state back, we talked for quite a while. She told me that we were matched in the reunion registry that they have. I thought back to what had happened before I got married, and realized that my mom had mistakenly signed me up. I had the paperwork at my house still in a drawer. I couldn't do it, but at that moment in time, I was SO thankful that my mom had.

After I went home that night, I talked to my husband about it. He was excited for me. Initially, I was thrilled about the idea of getting to know my birth mom. However, as the reality of it all set in and I talked to my two best friends about it, the emotions hit me hard. I cried and cried and could not stop. I never imagined in a million years that this would happen. I was so confused. The roller coaster ride had begun.

The lady from the state needed to know what information she could disclose to my birth mom about me. I told her I needed to think about it. After all, this is a complete stranger. I still didn't know why she wanted to contact me. I felt like I should approach the situation cautiously. My birth mom had given her permission to give me any information that I wanted. The lady from the state asked me if I wanted to know her name. I grabbed a pen and paper. I remember feeling frozen in time as I was about to hear my birth mom's name for the very first time. It seemed like it took her 5 minutes to tell me. She preceded to tell me where she worked, what she looked like (based on a driver's license picture), where she lived, and then she gave me her address and phone number. Wow! Words alone can not begin to describe how I felt. Now I had to decide what to do next.

The fact that my parents did not know was what bothered me the most. I had to tell them. I remember feeling so overwhelmed at school I couldn't focus on my job. My thoughts were consumed with my birth mom. I was so overcome with emotions. I had to ask my principal if I could leave early. I didn't go into detail why I needed to leave, but she understood. I left school after lunch and went straight to my parents house. I had to tell them. They needed to know what was going on. I couldn't move forward until they knew what was happening to me.