Losing Your Best Friend

There's been so many monumental things that have happened in my life. Most are good things and some I've really struggled to understand their meanings. Adoption is an issue that is dear to my heart in alot of respects. But family and friends whether their adopted or not mean so much more to me.

I have friends in my life that have been there since I was a little girl. We all grew up in the same church and/or parochial school (except for a few). Unfortunately because of our lives, families and professions, time just doesn't allow us to be together very often. I wish there was more time in the day, week or even month to just sit down and chit chat... but it never seems to happen.

I have one friend that her and I talk when we can on myspace.com or by e-mail. She and I both have 17 year olds that will be graduating in June. Boy, does that make us feel old and we've known each other since we were in... gosh kindergarten (I think). Time has just flown by fast. We used to get into a "little" trouble when we were teenagers (tee hee). Hey "G" you know what I'm talking about if you're reading - lol. G and I just recently found out that we're related through my amom. G's uncle married my mom's cousin - WILD isn't it? All that time and we never knew.

I have another friend that lives about 80 miles from me and we talk on the phone when we can. It's not that often but it's the only time our schedule permits. We've known each other for about 27 years (ugh did I just say that) - Shout out to "L" too.....

Another one of my friends since we were 10 years old has flown the coop and I've had to walk away from our friendship. It saddened me, but I can't be a friend to someone who can't help themselves and it affects me, my family and hers in a HUGE monumental way. I pray in my heart that she gets the help that she needs and deserves.

That brings me to my best friend growing up. However, I lost her to an overdose when I was 15 years old and she was 16. Cathy was my parents godchild and I knew her from the day I was adopted. We grew up together (what time we did have), went places together, did things together and got in trouble together. Cathy and I were "thick as thieves" growing up. Our families were intertwined and still are to this day. Cathy's parents recently celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary and her sister became a grandma. I just couldn't bring myself to attend. The thoughts of partying and her not being there just drudged up alot of hurt and pain inside me.

A site that I frequent has a "psychic" reader on it. And I asked for a reading. She came back with answers to my questions then starting asking me questions about someone that was coming through to her. I was freaked at most because she started asking questions about a "C" person. The questions became clear and evident that it was Cathy coming through to her. What made me believe was when I posted an answer to something she came back and asked "did you ask her to make herself known" (not exact words)? And I started laughing because at the time I so wanted to hear from Cathy so before I logged onto the site I whispered "okay kiddo if this is you make yourself known and quit fooling around" (I swear this happened). That's when I read what she asked on the site. It blew me away. Through that reading I learned some things regarding her death. I always questioned whether it was an accident, on purpose or foul play (because of where she was and the situation she was in). The answer was accident. That she "couldn't pull herself back".

I often wonder what Cathy's and my life would be like now. She has a beautiful daughter that was born about 6 months before her passing. The funny thing is when Cathy's daughter arrived in the states she had beautiful brown eyes and brown hair. Nothing like Cathy who was blonde and blue eyed. Then I look at Cathy's sisters daughter who was the spitting image of Cathy when she was little. Both daughters are grown now and having children of their own.

I never had the chance to pay my final respects to Cathy either. Her body was buried in Guatemala where she lived and I suppose her husband is buried right beside her (he was killed a couple years after her death). I want to visit her and talk to her. I want her to know how much I miss her but I suppose she already knows. I can hear her in the back of my mind saying "what the hell is wrong with you" and then chuckling the way she did. Cathy loved my parents. She used to call my dad "uncle Al the kiddies pal" (his name was Al).

I will never understand this loss and I don't think I'll ever get over it. Some say in the adoption world that "at least death brings closure". I question this because in adoption you at least have that chance to meet again one day on this earth. In death you will only meet in the afterlife.

Well, I won't say good-bye to Cathy, but I will say "so long my friend until we meet again - I miss you".

A Happy Day!!!!!

Our son is of a closed adoption. Unfortunately, in the late 80's that was common and open adoptions were a dime a dozen and not understood like they are now. I wish that I would have known more about open adoption.

I've been preparing our son to one day meet his firstmom "D". I still remember her smile and sweet persona the day we met her. A day that will live in my heart and be forever etched in my mind.

I called the agency when he was 15 and talked with a worker there who pulled his file for me. I wanted to know if "D" had been in contact with them and if I could send some pictures and such. They informed me that she had not contacted them after the first year or two of the adoption. It saddened me in alot of ways because once I reconnected with my birthfamily I realized that I didn't want our son to wait 37 years like I did to once again meet his first mom and family that I knew would be wondering about his whereabouts, health and just plain well being. It was then that I found out that the mutual contact age agreed upon was 21 and not 18 (not that 18 mattered). I immediately changed it. Although I wanted "Anytime" replaced with 21 they told me that they set it at 18 but would contact me immediately if "D" showed interest.

I then told our son what I had done and he informed me that he had no interest in reuniting and was more concerned about puberty and high school. I guess in a way I understood because puberty and teenage years really suck. You're no longer a child and not quite an adult. It's a trying time to say the least. So I once again had to put that thought of reunion on the back burner in my mind. My hubby finally said "honey it's your dream not his". And then it hit me... He's right!!! It is my dream and I want it to be his.

Now our son is 17 and I brought up the subject again. His answer was "okay mom, once I'm in college you can make the arrangements". Then I explained to him what I told the agency about how she was welcome to call us if she ever contacted them. I told him ""A" you may just get a call from your firstmom any day". The nice thing is it didn't shock him, anger him or anything. But I did see a little smile and my heart just melted because I realized that it's his dream as well.

Oh Happy Day!!!

Hi everyone -

Sorry I haven't been blogging lately. It's been a very busy summer at work and home. I'll be up and blogging REAL soon!!!

Anthony in Europe?????

That's right.... our son took Europe by storm and had a blast. He spent 10 days in London and Paris with 18 other classmates and 3 teachers just seeing all the sites they could see.

In his first (and only mind you) e-mail home he was telling us that he decided he was going to go completely European and not eat anything that he can have in America (i.e. McD's and Burger King). His first night was Armenian food following by authentic english good and Indian cuisine. However, he did say that a BK "Whopper" was calling to him and he just couldn't help it. I had to laugh because he also said that with most of the kids if they didn't recognize it, they wouldn't eat it. (Bottom - picture of Anthony at phone booth - no he wasn't inclined to "phone home" - lol).

The tour guide kept them busy and tired by the end of the evening. However, the teachers were telling us that they ordered pizza at midnight once in awhile because they were so wound up from the day.

On one of their first days they got a chance to see the changing of the guards at the palace. Anthony was telling us that the guards must have a real keen sense because they can tell is someone is behind them up to no good like 2 girls (not from Anthony's group) trying to mess with the fencing behind him. The guards reaction was "get away from there" without moving, blinking or anything. So Anthony just had to have his picture taken with this guard.... (Top - Anthony trying to reason with the guard - LOL).

Anth really wanted to go to the Moulin Rouge, but when they got there they found out that you had to be 18 (bummer) and in a tuxedo (men only) to get into there. Maybe next time.

Anyway.... As you can see he had a wonderful trip. I'm now making an album and shadow box with all the foreign money, pictures, tickets and such

My furkids mean the world to me. These are two of the three that live in our household. Cheyenne (on the left) is a 1-1/2 year old Jack Russell Terrier/Fox Terrier mix. We lovingly call her "Yoda" (because of her ears). She's actually my hubby's dog. Both Psycho... Both Neurotic... But Both very sweet. (Just kidding) Then there's my Bella. She's a 1-1/2 year old Piebald Dapple Dachsund. She's the princess of the group and "In Love" with our 3 year old 110 pound yellow lab. She'll do anything she can to cuddle with him. Which brings me to Bud. He's the lab. He's huge but sweet as can be. He's got the temperment of a laid back dog. But I guarantee no one will get through our front door or windows with him around.

When I lost Zoey (it'll be 2 years ago this mother's day) I was lost without my furbaby. Zoey was our Pekignese. We adopted her through the animal shelter. It's funny, but I still remember the first night we brought Zoey home. I woke up in the middle of the night poking my hubby because I heard snoring. He finally rolled over and said "it's not ME - it's THAT" (pointing at Zoey). We both laughed because how can a precious little thing so small be SO LOUD. Anyway, we put Zoey down because half her heart had given out. That was the toughest decision I ever had to make. But I knew she was suffering and didn't want that little angel to suffer anymore. So Zoey went over the bridge to play in the green pastures with other furbabies that are awaiting their loved ones.

Animals are an amazing thing. They're comforting and they let you talk on and on about life and what not without saying anything in return. They all have their own little personalities and funny quirks. They're always there for you with a tail wag and a happy hello. And yet they never ask anything in return but love, food, water, a warm place to sleep and playtime.

Although you can go overboard or so my hubby says. My hubby cringes when I head to PetsMart. He was teasing me about a month ago about the dogs having more toys than Toys'R'Us. Whatever!!!!

Yep - My furbabies are special. They're members of our family.

A Whirlwind Courtship

This June I will be celebrating my 25th wedding anniversary. Oh my gosh, did I just write that... 25 years??? Where has the time gone? Alot of people wonder how in the world did we stay together after only 4 months of dating before we said our vows. Yep, you read right. Only 4 months of dating. Why? What in the world were we thinking? Well, let me tell you...

In September of 1980 I moved myself up to Seattle to reunite with my boyfriend who was in the Coast Guard. I was only 17, but promised my parents that I would get my GED and go on to college. They agreed knowing that I'd do it anyway. Yeah, kind of rebellious in my teen years. Anyway, after a couple of months he walked in the apartment one afternoon and told me to pack my bags and go home and he didn't want nor need me anymore and walked out the door. That hit me like a ton of bricks. I was only 17, still not an adult and very spontaneous. So what did I do????? Took a whole bottle of Tylenol w/codeine.

After I did that I realized that I didn't want to die. I wanted to go home where I was safe and secure. I didn't like this grown-up bit. I wasn't ready to be a grown up and take on the responsibilities of it. I called my boyfriend's best friend and told him the stupid thing I had done. He immediately dispatched everyone he knew to help me. The next thing I know I had the fire department, police department and ambulance at my service.

I didn't want my parents to know the stupid thing I had done and agreed to drink some Epicak (sp?) to get the stuff out of my system. They said that if I drank it they would not call my parents, but just take me to the hospital to talk with someone. Okay, I can handle that. Well, they then gave me a choice. Did I want to ride in the Fire Truck, the Ambulance or the Police Car? Yep, they actually gave me a choice. I actually chose the police car because it was brand new. To be honest it was a toss up with the fire truck and police car. I had never ridden in either one. Those poor policemen didn't know what hit them when that stuff started to take effect. You could say that I broke in their police car - lol. They were cordial and sympathetic with me though.

They put me in a room and took some blood work. A psychologist came in and we spoke for some time. I explained to her that it was a stupid thing that I did. I told her about what happened that day and the prior days. She said that his abuse towards me was in an emotional respect and the only crazy one was him and not me. She told me I was going to be just fine and that she's release me in the next hour or two. (you see, I didn't give the stuff a chance to work - right after I took them I realized what I had done.)

A nurse came in with a phone and told me that I had a call. On the line was my big brother and my dad. They were not angry at me but at my boyfriend. My brother said that he was loading the shotgun as we spoke - lol (loving protective brother) and he'd be flying up to bring me home. I told him that this was my battle and I was going to finish it off. They actually sent me home with my boyfriend that night. His friend offered me a place to stay (in fact, come to find out later that his best friend liked me). But I had to face this problem and since he wasn't a physical abuser then I could handle one night. I basically told him to stay out of my way or I'd deck him - LOL. The next morning I flew home.....

Oh my gosh, you don't know how good it felt to be home. I felt safe, secure and happy again. I felt that I learned a life lesson. I felt that my actions were wreckless, stupid and very immature. But I was alive and grateful for it. You'd think I'd learn though. It was 1 year earlier that I lost my best friend to an overdose. Maybe that's what saved me.

When I returned it was around the Christmas Holiday season. I wasn't working so mom and dad gave me money to spend for the holidays. I went out with friends that I had known for quite some time to concerts, dinner and movies. Everyone was trying to keep me as busy as possible.

In January I told my mom that I wanted to work for a year before attending college. Since I had taken typing in high school (when I attended) my mom said that a receptionists job would be great for me. That evening she found an ad in the paper for me and I called it the next morning.

I had an interview that next "evening". An evening interview? Both my mom and I found this kind of strange, but I wanted to check it out anyway. I asked that my mom go with me because I didn't know the area very well. The interview was at a home in a residential neighborhood. My mom was nervous and said that maybe I shouldn't do this, but I said that I'm up for an adventure and wanted to check it out. My mom thought I was crazy and so did I, but I'm always up for a challenge. When I went to the door a "large" biker guy answered with a full arm cast. I looked at him and told him that I probably had the wrong house, but he said "no" and to not worry because it was a legitimate business. I was escorted to the kitchen and sat at the kitchen table to fill out an application. I sat there watching the hustle and bustle of people trying to figure out what type of business they had. There was a large box of keys sitting in the middle of the table with tags. One guy came up and pulled out a set and gave directions to another guy and sent him on his way. I finally asked what kind of business it was and he told me "car repo". Oh my - did I really want to be there? I told them that I'd fill out the application in my car and bring it back. They obliged and I left. When I got in the car I told my mom what had happened. That was one job I did NOT want. So we left.

The next day I was at the bank and a friend of the family that works there asked me if I wanted to become a bank teller. Sure why not!!!! So I put in my application. In the meantime, I decided to do some temp work with an agency to get my feet wet. My first assignment was a company not too far from home.

It was February 9th, 1981 and I was very nervous walking into my first assignment. I was 17 and actually in the working field. All my other friends were still in high school (I did get my GED in Seattle). I met the owner and a couple of his associates and was made comfortable in the office. They gave me my desk with all the necessary tools right next to a huge window with a view. They told me that they'd have someone bring me a typewriter (pc computers were not really in style then). About a half hour later this nice guy with reddish brown hair (shoulder length), full beard, mustache and nice built brought me my typewriter. He introduced himself as "J". The outlet for the typewriter was in the floor underneath my desk so he offered to get it set up for me. I tease "J" now because I think he was just trying to look up my skirt - LOL. And you know what - He agrees!!!

During the day "J" seemed to come through the office quite a bit and strike up a conversation with me. Just a little here and there. By the afternoon he had about 10 guys outside the front window looking in at me - LOL. He showed off with lifting things and smiling my way. He sure was cute. He also tried to make me laugh. My heart just kind of melted.

On my second day of work "J" asked me to lunch. Since he had a motorcycle and I was wearing a dress, we took my car. We sat and had a nice lunch and talked about ourselves. He was shocked to learn that I was only 17 and I was shocked to learn that he was 20. I was in awe of his wonderful smile and soothing personality. But I was also leary about men at that point.

Later that afternoon I received a call from my mom that I had gotten the position as teller for the bank. That training would start in 2 days. I was thrilled but kind of sad. It was then that the owner came into the office and offered me a full time job. I think he knew that "J" liked me and I got along great with everyone. It really was a nice relaxing office to work. But I declined and told him that I accepted another position. I thanked him for the work experience and told him that if this other job didn't work out that I'd love to come work for him.

"J" was kind of disappointed that I took another job, but I also explained to him that if he was serious about going out with me that I couldn't work and date in the same office anyway. I took "J" home for dinner that night to meet my parents. My dad got a kick out of him and they hit it off right away. My mom always liked the guys I brought home because she trusted my judgment. She told me she didn't care if I dated a biker "as long as he doesn't bring his bike into the house". Gosh - you just gotta love my mom.

We started dating and on my 18th birthday in April, "J" presented me with an engagement ring and roses. On bended knee (in our family room) he told me that he knew I was the one for him from the 1st day we met. That he wanted to ask me on our first date - lol. He promised to take care of me and love me for eternity. Well, what does a girl say but.....

YES!!!!

My parents were not surprised and really liked "J". We decided to have an October wedding. We started planning and searching reception halls. The guest lists were being made by the parents. His father's wife ("J"s Step mom) refused to attend the wedding if I didn't wear a certain veil - STRIKE 1. One of my best friends decided to have her wedding on the exact same date and told me that I needed to move my wedding date even though I was engaged before her - STRIKE 2. My mom came up with this astronomical guest list. It was HUGE and none of my friends were on it. I told her that was fine, but I had a dozen or so friends of my own that I wanted to add. My little sister "B" (who's a natural child of my aparents) came up to me in front of my mom and said "mom and dad can't afford a big wedding for you. Only their real daughter!!" Ouch!!! that hurt. My mom was dumbfounded and didn't know what to say. I knew it wasn't true, but my sister was drumming it into my head all my life about real and not real B.S. - STRIKE 3. That was my breaking point. I know every bride feels this way, but good gosh -

I moved out that day and moved in with a friend. I told my mom that she should have stopped "B" in her tracks and she hurt me. My mom was so dumbfounded that I'm not even sure what happened after I left. I moved THAT DAY.

"J" told me to forget all of them and let's just elope. Right after that I found out I was pregnant and told him that maybe he was right. But I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of eloping. So we made calls and told them that we were getting married in 2 weeks and if they wanted to come then fine. If not, well then TOO BAD!!

My mom came over to the apartment and apologized. She said that she wanted me to have a beautiful wedding. I told her that time is of the essence and explained the dilema. She understood and off we went to find a dress and flowers. I wanted one of my friends to stand up with me as maid of honor, but my mom asked me to do her a favor and ask my sister because she's be the only sister that I'd ever have (so we thought). So I did out of respect for my mom. Am I a sucker or what...

The 13th day of June arrived. We were married on the 13th day, 13th hour with 13 people present. How's that for BAD luck - LOL.

It was a nice intimate wedding. My parents surprised us by having a sit down luncheon/dinner at a nice nice restaurant on the bay. They also surprised us with a beautiful cake with a crystal heart as a topper. My day was complete. I had a wonderful husband, family that didn't give up on me and still came through no matter what our dilemas were, and IN-LAWS. Okay, so it wasn't perfect.

J's and my time together has been trying. We've had lots of ups and downs like any other couple. I think the first 5 years were the hardest on us. All my friends except for one is divorced and working on their 2nd and 3rd marriages. Even my brother and sister have 2nd marriages. Me - I've worked hard at my marriage and intend to keep working on it. J is the most special person and my true soul mate. I once asked him why he loved me. He said because I put up with his crap!!! LOL. No - really.... he said because we laugh and cry together, we don't fight over big stuff like money and home, we know what the other is thinking by just looking at their eyes (which is oh so true).

Love has gotten us through alot of rough patches. I think I'll keep him for just a while longer...

Yes you are in the right blog...

I decided to change the coloring on the blog. So, need not fear, you're in the right place.

Have a great evening.

Am I real or not

In the adoption world you can go to board after board and get different answers to questions. I have noticed in the past couple of years the issue of being a "real" parent to a child as an adoptive parents has been a huge debate.

Now I have thought long and hard about this and really looked at the definitions of the word "real".

There are 10 definitions for the word real as an adjective, 1 as a noun and 1 as idiom. That's alot of definitions for a four letter word. And it goes to prove that one word can mean so many things to different people and situations.

As an adoptive parent I'm not pretending to be a parent, but living the day to day activities of parenthood with the good, the bad and the ugly.

One of the definitions for real is.... "Being or occurring in fact or actuality; having verifiable existence..." Well, that just proved my point to the sentence before this definition.

Then there's "true and actual; not imaginary, alleged, or ideal"...

How about "of or founded on practical matters and concerns"...

All three of the definitions show that I am, as a person and even an adoptive mother, real as real can be. I may not be the original, first or birth mother but I am in every sense a real mother.

I think the definition I like the most is "being no less than what is stated; worthy of the name"...

So what makes a real parent? Is it birthrights? Is it genetic make up? Or is it the love and understanding that it takes to raise a child.

I have to tell you that as an adoptive parent I was appalled by the thought of someone thinking of me not as a real mother. And as an adoptee I was hurt that someone could think that the mother who raised and nurtured me wasn't real. That would be like saying that I was raised in a robotic atmosphere without compassion. My mom raised me with love and understanding. She was there for my skinned knees, trophies that were won, first words, first steps, first lost tooth, etc. My mom is REAL in every sense of the word and its definitions. Then again, so is my birthmom. I have 2 real moms. Twice the love and understanding. I consider myself very lucky and priviledged to have both of them in my life.

Did they know each other?????

In one of my posts I had stated that my amom & adad thought they met my bmom and her hubby somewhere before. The same applies for my bmom and her hubby thinking the same thing about my parents.

Acouple of people have asked.... Have they figured out where they met before?

The answer:

Not yet. But there's alot that plays into this. Although my bmom was raised in the mountains of California, my amom was raised in the city where I was born and my bmom was living there with her sister at the time. This is where my bmom met her hubby after my birth. They lived very close by that city for awhile. And the more we talk (all of us) the more coincidences come into play.

My bfamily lived in two places where we frequented very very often. They lived close by where we had a cabin in the mountains. We were there every weekend and all summer. There was a community pool and the "creek" (actually it's a river, but we call it a creek) where we hung out. Another place was another cabin in another area of the mountains that we frequented that was owned by friends of our family. My bfamily lived in that same area too during that time.

My bbrother used to stop at this one store to rest when he was going back and forth from Arizona to Oregon on his Harley. My dh and I lived less than 2 blocks from it and were there frequently. My luck I passed by him at some point in time.

We seemed to all be around the same place at the same time. My amom seems to think that maybe they saw each other at the county agency through which I was placed. That would make the most common sense.

I'm sorry to say, but it's still a mystery. But if I have any new developments I will let you all know.

A Child Enters Our Lives

After the Columbian fiasco we decided to pack up the nursery (beautiful south american theme with bright colors) and try to pick up the pieces and go on with our lives. It was tough and not a single day went by that I didn't think about Kristina. I was literally tired physically, mentally and emotionally. I started to feel like God dealt me a zinger of a life. I was content with being adopted and had no issues with it, but just couldn't grasp the "whys" of EVERYTHING. At this time I had not reunited with my birthfamily and had no family with my dh (children). But I knew in my heart that there were reasons. In a way I find it amusing because I think it gave me strength in some odd way. Strength that I never knew I had.

We started anew by getting a new house out in the suburbs of the Bay Area. It was in a brand new up and coming development. I was really apprehensive about the move because I had lived in one area my whole life. It was a strange thing for me to uproot my life like that. But, we liked it out there. However, the commute was terrible. The quiet and serene community made up for that. It was nice to come home to the quietness of the neighborhood. It also put us closer to the Delta where we liked to romp on our time off. The other nice thing? Our house was right next door to some very good friends that we met through the hospital. They lost their oldest child J at the age of 2-1/2 within that past year. That too was a very tough time in our lives. In the matter of 6 months we had lost 3 very dear people in our lives and with the adoption loss on top of all that - ugh.

My dh's mom was a nurse for a hospital up north of us. One night when she had called she was telling my dh how they were having a somewhat symposium on adoption. She thought maybe we'd like to attend and tell our story. At first we were reluctant but thought that maybe our story might help someone else doing international adoption.

When we arrived there were about 40 people there. We listened as people told their stories and such. My heart went out to those that hurt and a gladness for those that had wonderful stories.

~~~Before I go on you need to realize that this was the late 80's and it was not common for inter-racial domestic adoptions. Same goes for open adoptions. It was there, but very uncommon for the time. ~~~

Anyway - our turn came for telling our story. After telling our story someone asked us if it totally turned off our views to adoption. At first I was hesitant in answering but explained to them that although we were duped for money it's the child that matters. And we based our decision on the best interest of the child. Another question was posed as to whether we wanted to do another international adoption or if we wanted a domestic adoption. At this point I was getting a little heated because the questions were more towards "your white" "why would you want to adopt internationally". We explained that it didn't matter. I went on telling them that a child deserves to grow up with parents and some circumstances just don't allow that whether they be black, white, asian or hispanic. Nationality or color should never be an issue. A county worker stood up and told me that under no circumstances would inter-racial adoptions be allowed in her county and many other counties in the state (laws have changed since then). It was then that my dh stood up and said (and I do quote) "well lady, my wife is adopted and since there's no background on her nationality I'm telling you she's part african american. I dare you to prove her wrong". Although dh and I knew darn well that I was not part african american it made that lady stop and the puzzled look on her face was absolutely priceless. You could actually hear a pin drop in the room. I was so proud of my hubby.

The meeting was basically adjourned shortly thereafter. A lady from a private agency approached and handed us her card. She told us that she was touched by our story and asked if we'd send her our portfolio.

After careful consideration we decided to go ahead with it. It was been almost 2 years since the Columbian fiasco. So off went our portfolio. We received a call right after they received our portfolio. They explained that there was a child born 3 months prior. The birthmom was only 17 and was already caring for a 17 month old. She felt that just couldn't care for 2 children at that time. The agency explained that they would like to give the birthmom our portfolio along with 2 or 3 others. They then explained that the child was african american. A problem? No. We obliged and told them to go ahead with it. But to tell you the truth I did not want to get our hopes up. I knew I'd be strong enough for another disappointment, but just wasn't sure that I was ready for it.

It took about a week and we received a call on the following Wednesday. I will never forget the day. The social worker told me to sit down first and then proceeded to tell me that we were chosen and that we could pick up our son on that Friday. FRIDAY!!!! OMG, I about freaked. First, Friday was my 26th birthday. Second, the nursery was still packed away. The worker knew that we did not want to bring anything out until it was positively a go. Most women have 9 months to prepare. I had 2 DAYS!!!!!

My dh was outside visiting with some neighbors when I approached him and whispered in his ear that it's a boy and he'll be arriving Friday!!!! Feelings of joy, elation and happiness swept our neighborhood. I think my dh and I were still in disbelief. Maybe stunned is a better word. We never thought we'd see the day when we would be a family or more than 2 people.

That Thursday was the longest day of my life. Since everything we had was for a little girl, we went shopping to change the colors from pink and greens to blues and yellows. We set up the crib, washed all the bedding, clothes, bottles, etc. It took most of the day, but I think it was good for us to keep busy.

Friday morning finally came and I had to go into work for a couple of minutes for last minute details like my resignation and all - lol. While I was working out the details, my dh went out to get last minute things. We decided instead of coming directly home (because we were travelling an hour away) that we would stay Friday night at dh mom's house and then proceed up to my parent's ranch in the mountains (they bought this right after I married).

The time came and dh picked me up at work for our journey. We had Dixie (our dog) all packed and ready to go with us along with all the stuff needed for the baby. In all the excitement I totally forgot about my birthday and my hubby presented me with 2 dozen lavendar roses and a stuffed bear. He was so cute about it.

We dropped the dog off at dh's mom's house and journeyed to our destination. We picked up the social worker from her office and drove to the house, It was there that we met our son and his birthmom. "A" (our son) was the cutest baby I had ever seen. His smile just melted your heart. His birthmom "D" was a quiet, petite and gorgeous girl. She too melted my heart. We also had the opportunity to meet the foster parents that cared for "A" during the last 3 months. I have to tell you, I was scared to death and shaking inside. I wasn't sure what to say to "D". I wanted so much to reassure her and to let her know that I would make her proud. We talked and answered each other's questions. She was so soft spoken. I know this had to be the hardest day for her in her life. This was the first time that she had seen "A" since the day after he was born. After about an hour or 2 it was time to part our ways. We hugged and cried. I promised her there that "A" is and would remain the most loved and wanted child ever.

We had to take the social worker back to her office and my dh was driving while I was sitting in the back seat with "A" in his carseat just mesmorized. I just couldn't take my eyes off of him. DH and worker were chit chatting when dh almost sideswiped a car changing lanes (actually wasn't his fault - car was in blind spot). I thought OMG she's gonna think we're loons and take away the baby. It was then that the worker roller down her window and told the guy to ignore my dh because he's a new father. I had to laugh because she did have a sense of humor and keen understanding.

We went back to the office to sign the final papers and talk. The worker was having a hard time getting us to pay attention because we were playing with the baby. But she understood and was very patient with us. Since open adoption was not common it was decided earlier that we would send "D" pictures every 3 months for the first year. Then it would be up to "A" when he's 21. (I had that changed to 18).

Our first night proved to be interesting. "A" got sleep but dh and I just sat there and watched him all night. At that point we cried and promised "A" that we would be the best parents that we could be. That we would love him unconditionally and always make sure that he's happy, healthy and full aware of the wonderful woman who gave him life.

Now that "A" is 17, I await the day that he reunites with "D". I truly want "D" in his life and wish that open adoption would have been a choice at the time. "D" and her family will always be welcome in my home and heart. This woman sacrificed her feelings and entrusted us with the most precious memories that life has to offer. I have the uttmost respect and love for her.

"D" truly is my hero.

Columbia

After my surgery we contemplated on micro-surgery to repair the fused fimbria. But after speaking with doctor after doctor and finally a specialist in micro-surgery it was determined that if we went ahead with the surgery there would be an almost 95% chance of a tubal pregnancy with possible life threatening repercussions. We then looked into in-vitro. Back in the late 80's they would attempt 3 times at $7k/ea with no guarantees. Fine and dandy, but I had already been poked and prodded more than I care to mention. I was tired of the tests, injections, pills and hormone tweeks. It was time to stop tormenting my body any further and just let sleeping dogs lie. That's the hardest thing to do when you want a family. But when you're cornered into something beyond your total control and genetic make up you have to make peace with what you have in front of you instead of your dreams.

My DH worked at a children's hospital back in the 80's. I even worked in the parent house on the weekends. The parent house was there for parents and family of trauma patients that live 100 or more miles away from the hospital. It was a safe and quiet haven for them. A place where they could rest and yet be close to their child who was critically ill. I became close with these parents and sat many a night up with them easing their minds and letting them get some of their frustrations out in words. It made my heart feel good to know that I could be there.

In 1987 my DH was approached by an employee at the hospital whose native home was Columbia, South America. She asked us if we'd like to adopt in her country. Her sister was doing an emergency foster parenting of a 2 day old. The mother of the child could not (for whatever reason) raise the child and wanted the baby to be raised in America. The relinquishment papers were already signed before we were called and she was made a ward. They then immediately gave us guardianship which was also signed by the birthmom. But there was still alot of road ahead of us to travel before picking up this beautiful baby girl who we named Kristina.

Although very nervous about the whole situation, our attorney referred us to an attorney that specialized in international law. He confirmed that everything was on the up and up. We then proceeded to start the process.

The United States government would not allow me or dh out of the states to care for the baby until everything was completed (international homestudy, background check, psych, passports, visas, etc.) so we started the grueling process.

Background check was pretty simplistic since I already held a "Secret" clearance through the government. I was a tech writer for a civilian engineering firm that contracted through the Navy. The international homestudy, home checks and psych tests started and was lengthy. We applied for our passports and began the Visa process for Kristina.

During this whole time we hired a foster family in a little town outside of Bogota to care for Kristina. We sent money, clothes, food and some basic furniture needs to help them out. I so wanted to just hop on a plane and go, but knew that I couldn't.

Time was going by fast and before we knew it Kristina was 6 months old. We called (using a translator) and sent letters. Receiving updates and pictures was an on-going thrill for us while we waited and the feeling of helplessness came over us time and time again.

Right after Kristina turned 6 months old everything was complete. Visa was in place, passports were ready, plane tickets bought, hotel reserved and homestudy and all associated paperwork was in the last stages of being translated before going to the Columbian Consolate. We were packing our bags and ready to jet out at a moments notice. That is until we received a call....

I'll never forget the day. The was about 7:00 a.m. and I was getting ready for work when the phone call rang. It was the foster parents calling us via the translator to inform us that they decided that they wanted to adopt Kristina. My heart just dropped and I didn't know what to say. My mind went blank and I guess I turned white as a sheet because dh grabbed the phone and talked with them. He told them that we'd get back with them later in the day and hung up the phone.

We called our attorney and he told us that we did have legal guardianship but if they wanted to take it further it could turn into a 3 or more year battle in Columbia. The battle would be uphill most of the way not in our complete favor because of the on-goings in Columbia during that time. So we went to the hospital and talked with a couple of doctors in the psych department there. The last thing we wanted was to put this little innocent child through a battle. Our attorney did some checking for us to make sure that the family was on the up and up.

It was decided that afternoon that we would not fight but relinquish our guardianship and hope that Kristina would be raised with the same love and family in her native country. It broke our hearts and we were very sad and maybe just a little bit angry. We felt used for those 6 months. But deep down inside I know that we made the right decision. About a week after our decision we received an article from Bogota. It had no return address on the envelope. It had two pictures on it. The left pictures showed the bomb squad checking out a store front. The right picture showed the after effects and remains of the squad after the explosion. We're not sure what that meant, but whatever it was... it wasn't good.

We often think of Kristina. We hope and pray that she's happy, healthy and was raised with love and compassion.

What about my birthfather?????

That's a very good question. The man named on my birth certificate was a friend of the family that ended up marrying my birthmom's sister six months after my birth. The same man who said that he knew nothing of me, yet must have known that his wife's sister was pregnant. And that they DID have a fling. Very Odd indeed.....

My birthmom called him after we were reunited and explained that I could indeed be his daughter because of the one night stand that they shared so many years ago. It was then that the realization that he could have another daughter hit home. He called me and asked for a meeting. This put a little terror in me because my birthmom was in another state and I would be doing this on my own.

We decided to meet in the town where both he and my birthmom grew up. This way I could meet two aunts (M & C) for the first time. We arrived about 7:00 a.m. in a sleepy little town in the mountains. It was odd thinking that this was the place where I could have been raised. As I looked around I noticed the small community with little happening that early in the morning. My dh said that must have been why I have a love for the mountains and peaceful settings.

We met at my aunt M's house for breakfast. It was there that I met C as well. They were nothing like my birthmom. They were definitely more outspoken and opinionated than my birthmom. I felt a little uneasy at the declaration of my aunt M who was very apologetic about my adoption. It was almost as though she was trying to clear her conscience. Both her and C were truck drivers and were on the road when I came about. They had no clue until after the adoption and were apologetic for not being there for me. I tried as best as I could to ease their minds by letting them know that I was happy and raised in a great atmosphere with a loving family. I think in some strange way it eased their minds a little. But let me tell you.... they sure had it out for J (the man listed as my father). This was one man that they DID NOT like.

We visited for some time getting to know each other. We talked about our families and lives. They also gave me some inside information about the family which helped explain alot. Several hours later it was time to meet J at a restaurant in town. He was going to be there with his third wife (2nd wife died) daughter and one of his sons. His other son was refusing to show up because he thought I was some gold digger out for money. I really couldn't blame him. Who was I to disturb this family? Was I doing the right thing? Although my intentions were good, some read more into a situation than others.

J was a nice looking man with the same color eyes as myself. My birthmom and all my siblings (and actually all my aunts and uncles) had blue eyes. I am the oddball because my eyes are hazel and actually lean more towards green. J stared at me looking for resemblances as I too looked to see if there was some genetic connection. His wife stated that our facial features were very similar. As we sat and talked I looked up to notice my two aunts had followed us to the restaurant and were sitting there having cocktails. It was like they were waiting to beat the hell out of this poor guy. It was funny, but made both J and I very nervous. Gotta love 'em. Their hearts were in the right place, but their brains just weren't there. Before a confrontation could be had, I went over and told them that I was disappointed in their actions and that if they started anything I would not speak with either of them again. They retorted with they were there to "protect" me from this man. Apparently, when J was married to my aunt N they had a very tumulous and alcoholic marriage. But J had been sober for years as was N. J was very gallant with the aunts and asked them to sit with us. Let me tell ya, that was very brave because I wouldn't want to meet these two aunts in a dark alley.

It was there we decided to confirm if J was indeed my birthfather through DNA testing. It was also decided that no matter what we had a friendship between my family and his.

About 2 months later.....

J and I had the tests run. He in his town and I in mine. We both sat on pins and needles. I have never in my life felt so anxious and nervous. I received the news on a Friday. It was determined that J was NOT my birthfather. To tell you the truth I was devastated and so was J. We cried together on the phone because both he and I wanted it to be true. We had become very close. His kids took it pretty hard as well. I felt really bad because I intruded on this poor man's life and gave him a disappointment of a lifetime.

So now what??????

I called my birthmom and we talked. She apologized and cried about how she wasn't true when she put his name down. It was between him and another guy who was also a one night stand set up by her brother right before they both left for Vietnam. Neither came home. They both died in Vietnam. And the real sad part? My birthmom can't remember his name, only a nickname that he had. So, now I may never know. Am I disappointed? Sure. Mad? Maybe just a little. Something is just not right with the story that I have been given. I think there's more to this and I may never be given the answer. It may go to the grave.

But such is life. I have my DAD. The most wonderful, caring and loving father I will ever know. We may not be genetically connected, but we're connected in every sense as Father and Daughter!!!

The Meeting

The day started like any other day, but I had butterflies in my tummy fluttering like nothing before. I thought maybe I was still full from the delicious and wonderful Thanksgiving meal my mom had prepared the evening before. But I knew these butterflies weren't fullness, but nerves. I was to meet a woman that carried me for nine months. A woman that knew my history before my birth. A woman that made the most heart wrenching decision a woman can make. I was to meet my birthmom.

We readied ourselves in the late morning to set out on our hour long drive to a destination that would change all of our lives. My nerves were getting worse as time grew nearer and decided to take a Xanax to take the edge off of me. I know that's terrible, but hey, everybody needs a little help now and then.

My hubby and I decided before we left that we wanted to stop at this little shop and get 2 dozen long stem red roses. I didn't want my mom to see and kept her occupied while hubby bought the flowers. We drove in separate cars because hubby, our son and I would be remaining at our destination for the weekend and my mom was going to go back home that evening.

We arrived and I just kind of sat in the car because a wave of fear came over me. Although I had spoken with my birthmom for over a month, I still feared the unknown. My mom reassured me that everything will be fine and that she'll be there for me. I can't tell you how much that meant to me. Thank God for my mom. She's always been there for me and probably always will be. I'm priviledged to have her in my life and to be able to call her "mom" and "friend".

I finally got my composure together and we started up the walkway to a home that belonged to my birthmom and hubby's friend. They were kind in allowing this to happen in their home. The door opened and we were escorted into the living room. There I saw what was like a mirror image of me. Same hair and smile. We hugged and told each other that it had been a "long" time. I was surprised that neither of us had broken down. Actually, now I look back and realize that both of us are really strong in the way we handle situations. I introduced her to my mom and they hugged and got teary eyed.

My brother "L" was there to greet me along with my sister "C" from Texas. This was our first meeting for us. Around the corner comes another guy handing me flowers. Come to find out that it was my brother "D" from Oregon who told me that he couldn't make it, but decided to surprise me instead. I have to say that the memory of my day has been etched in my mind forever.

Once things kind of settled down I had my hubby go to the car and get the flowers. I wanted to give the mothers something to remember for the rest of their lives. I know the reunion was probably enough, but wanted them to have something that they could press in a book or something (which both of them did). I presented each mother with the long stem roses explaining that each will have a special place in my heart. I have to say it was a special touch to the day.

My mom brought photo albums for my birthmom and siblings to see me growing up. My birthmom gave me several photos of all the aunts and uncles. I looked at them and again, saw me in acouple of them. It was truly remarkable. We sat and looked through them for hours laughing, talking and enjoyed a wonderful dinner prepared by the owners of the home who out of the kindness of their hearts opened their home to all of us. It was like we all knew each other for years.

As the sun was about to set my mom decided it was time for her to travel back home. I can't explain it, but although I felt comfortable with everyone, my mom was like my "saving grace" and I really didn't want her to leave, but she felt that I really needed "alone" time with them. I respected her wishes and walked her out to her car. As we were talking she said that she had "met them somewhere before". She just couldn't put her finger on it. She gave me a hug and said that they were "wonderful" and that I should enjoy myself. I gave her a hug and then watched her drive away. The butterflies were back but not as bad.

We sat and talked for a little while more and my hubby decided to go get our room at the hotel. My birthmom and her hubby were tired with all the excitement and us "kids" were "amped to the gill" wanting to know everything about one another. So, we decided to take the younger kids roller skating to give us bigger "kids" a chance to get to know each other. We talked, laughed and joked around for hours. Finally it was time for us to part for the evening and say goodnight.

We went back to our hotel room and I was looking at the picutres that "J" my birthmom had given me of the aunts and uncles. There were 13 aunts and uncles (not including "J") all together. 3 of them were deceased already (1 died in Vietnam, 1 died of brain cancer, and 1 died due to injuries after a fight). I kept looking at "J"s sister "N" the one I thought was my birthmom. There was something about her. I pulled a picture of me when I was her age in the picture and it was like twins. My hubby took a look and was completely astonished.

The next day we went back to the home of their friends and all of us were preparing breakfast when "J" and her hubby said something that just completely astonished me. They both said "we've met your mom somewhere, but can't put our finger on it". I was floored. I told them that my mom had said the same thing the previous evening before departing for home. Anyway, we spent the whole weekend getting to know one another. When we were ready to leave we hugged and promised that we'd call, e-mail and see each other when we could. I mean gosh, I had 3 more siblings and lots of aunts and uncles to meet..... And the journey continues

Reactions

Before my brother "L" left for home, he made me promise that I would call my parents. He too wanted it out in the open so everybody can enjoy the reunion. After taking "L" to the airport I knew that it was time for me to get on the phone and talk with my parents about everything that was going on in my life. I felt guilty because I had always been honest with them before and knew that they were behind me 100%. I think maybe I felt guilty and worried that they would be hurt. My birthmom also wanted to make sure that they knew before we met up. I talked to "R" (older abrother) before doing so. "R" wondered if although they were always receptive and open, if him calling them to pave the way would be easier. You see "R" was my protector of sorts. He always had and still has my back when there's trouble, woes or laughter. I'm blessed to have a wonderful brother and mentor like "R" and wouldn't trade him for all the tea in China. But I had to do this on my own. I thanked him and made the call....

It was Sunday late afternoon and right before the evening news. That's always a good time to get my parents together to talk because they are sitting down to the news having an evening cocktail before dinner. I sat down on the floor by the phone and made myself comfortable while I made the call. My mom answered and we sat there chit chatting for a few minutes. I finally told her to make herself a drink and sit down because I needed to tell her something. My mom's reaction everytime I told her that I need to tell her something was "YOUR PREGNANT"!!! UGH - and my pat answer was always "YOU WISH". Again, this was her guess as to what I had to tell her. Gotta love her though - she's got character with alot of spunk.

I explained to her what I did and what had happened thus far. She was relaying everything back to my dad. I kind of stopped and said "you are okay aren't you?" Their answers were, "that's wonderful honey, what took you so long!!! Tell us all about them!!!" What a relief and weight lifted off of my shoulders. I knew it would be okay, but well.... Anyway, as I talked with my mom I explained how I really wanted the family to be involved in the reunion. I wanted them to experience it with me. They thought it was a terrific idea. A little hesitant at first but I think that was because they didn't want to be in the way. My father has told us kids time and time again how he'd go to the ends of the earth for us. Our happiness and well being was his highest priority and my father meant every word of that. I'll have to tell you more about my dad at a later time.

I already had a pre-date set up to meet "J" my birthmom. I explained to my mom that my wish was that she would go with me to meet "J". I wanted the 2 most important women of my life in the same room together. The one who gave me life and the one who kept it going. My mom was a little worried that "J" would feel out of place, but I explained to her that I'll make sure it's okay first with all parties. The infamous date was the day after Thanksgiving, 2000 in Northern California. My birthmom and her hubby were coming in from Oregon and my brother "L" (this was our 2nd visit together) and my sister "C" were coming in from Arizona and Texas respectively (I know they're scattered all over - lol). Me?? I was with my mom, my hubby "J" and our son "A" coming down from the mountains of California to our meeting destination.

And away we go......

A Reunion to Remember

After our initial phone reunion we talked on the phone, IM'd each other and sent pictures to one another so we could get some sort of a glimmer as to what each of us looked like. One of my siblings "L" and I spoke the most. He was so curious and wanted to know EVERYTHING. He wanted to know what my family was like, was I happy, what kind of school did I attend and the list goes on and on. There was so much information that I had to keep a notebook by me to write everything down so I wouldn't forget anything. I also kept a journal during this time. I wanted all my emotions written down.

I called the agency because I wanted confirmation that the birthfamily I found was the correct family. I spoke with the social worker who gave me the name of the search angel when I was searching. She was one of the sweetest and compassionate people that I have ever met. She told me that she would pull my file and give me a call. In the meantime.....

The curiosity was killing my hubby "J". He wanted to see if I resembled anyone and told me he couldn't take it anymore and to call my brother "L" and tell him that plane tickets were waiting for him at the airport to come and visit us. I left a message for "L" telling me that I "couldn't take it anymore" and that he needed to call me. "L" returned my call that night and told me that I scared him because of my cryptic message. I didn't tell him that the plane tickets were at the airport I only said that I "couldn't take it anymore". Poor guy thought I was going to tell him that it was all a mistake and a joke. When I explained he said that he'd be on the plane that Friday. I couldn't believe it. I was finally going to meet someone that shared my DNA. Someone that could answer questions. But I still had this feeling of "what if I'm wrong about them being family" in my head. My heart told me the opposite - I was positive that I was right.

Now some of you might ask, why didn't you meet your birthmom first before your siblings? Easy, because my brain kept telling me to take it slow and I didn't want to be wrong about it. I wanted it to be true. I think "J" my birthmom felt the same. She knew in her heart that it was right but in her head she too wanted confirmation. "L" was the next oldest and we seemed to be the closest in personalities at the time. I felt comfortable talking with him.

Friday finally rolled around and I was in for a huge day ahead of me. Not only was I going to meet my bbrother for the first time, but one of my highschool best friends came over to see me. We hadn't seen each other in over 15 years. It was really great sharing it with her. By the late afternoon my nerves were shot. I was the manager of the complex where we were living. My hubby was telling EVERYBODY that would listen. It was really cute though. He was so proud. It reminded me of the day we became parents. We were both overjoyed with emotions.

The time came to pick up "L" from the airport. I had asked him how I would recognize him. He was coming in from Arizona and said "I'm 6'5" and will be wearing a black cowboy hat". As I stood in the area where they depart from the plane I was staring at every single tall man with a hat on. Do you realize how many tall men with hats come from Arizona - LOL. Alot I tell you ALOT!!! Out walks this guy that took one look at me and said "my God you look just like mom". It was my brother "L". He recognized me!!! What an awesome feeling. We hugged while "J" snapped photo after photo (btw, I have enough pictures to choke a horse thanks to "J"). "L" hugged me like he would never let go. "L" and I couldn't take our eyes off of each other. It was like we wanted to know every line in the face of one another to be imbedded in our brains forever.

We stayed up half the night talking and showing photo albums to one another. That night I woke up from a dead sleep and woke "J". I was half asleep and told him I had a dream that my brother was in my home. "J" said "your not dreaming honey". I made him get out of bed to check and make sure "L" was still there. He laughed at me and did it happily. I guess my mind was still in a bit of shock with all that was happening around me.

The next day we took "L" to where I grew up. He wanted to see my schools, home, etc. I guess it made him feel better knowing that things were okay for me. Throughout the evening of the next day neighbors came over to congratulate "L" and I. It was amazing. We talked, ate, drank and just had a great time. The last morning "L" was there we went to develop all the pictures so he could take some back with him. We started looking at the pictures and just stopped dead in our tracks. "J" pointed out how "L" and I stood the same, crossed our arms the same way, same expressions, etc. That old question of are characteristics hereditary or learned came into play. "L" also called my birthmom "J" and told her "oh yeah, she's ours"!!! It was kind of funny the way he said it.

"L" left that evening for his home. I missed him when he left, but knew that I'd see him again soon. I wasn't going to let go now that I found them.

The following week I called the social worker again to tell her that I had met my brother. She said "I was just going to call you, guess what I have on my desk." It was my file. She confirmed that we were correct in the family. She even told me what my room looked like when I was adopted. She had that room down to the curtains. It was a beautiful room and I remember it still. My mom wanted something different for me. I had lavender carpet with lavender, gold and pink polka dotted wallpaper on one wall with swiss dot white curtains. Maybe that's why my favorite color is purple. She even confirmed that the man I talked to about being listed as the father on my birth certificate was correct. Then it dawned on me, my birthmom and aunt saw the same man. Weird!!!!

Now I needed to get over the next hurdle... Meeting my birthmom face to face for the first time in 37 years.

The Search

My decision to search the 2nd time brought on some anxiety and maybe a little fear. Fear that maybe my birthmom wouldn't want to meet me. Fear that I didn't have any siblings. Fear that noone knew about me. Part of my decision to search was based on Fear that I would die alone. I know that sounds so stupid because I have a wonderful adoptive family, hubby that loves me and a son (remember he's adopted too) who is the light of my life. I had NO blood connection to anything!!! Nothing!!!! I was basically alone with my DNA with noone who shared it. I don't care what anybody says and as petty as that may sound, it is a very important part of everybody. "J" was behind me 100% and was my rock during this whole process. My older brother "R" was there too and offered to tell mom and dad that I decided to search. They knew that one day I would do it and offered to help with the search, but I just didn't want to tell them until I was ready. This was something that I had to do on my own.

So off on an adventure I went....

The first time I decided to search I did receive my non-identifying information. That gave me the basics. I knew how many siblings she had (13 of them) which ended up being a very important clue for me.

I spoke with a "search angel" in Oregon who helped me. We spoke on the phone one evening for almost 3 hours while he went through all his books and such finding me information. In that one phone call he found my amended birth certificate, a second amended birth certificate (they couldn't make up their mind on my name) and my original birth certificate. Since I was in California he told me how certain years they would use the same certificate number which I lucked out because that's how he found mine. The information included only the last name of my birthmother along with the full name of the birthfather. Well, that gave me a direction to go. Then he found a marriage certificate for the birthfather and the same last name as my birthmother 6 months after my birth. I kind of stopped myself and wondered why she married 6 months after my birth and not before. Now I had both names of my birthparents and a county to start my digging.

To our astonishment the birthfather's name was listed in the phone book for the same county where they were married. Early on in the decision to search I placed the phone calls in "J"s hands. His exact words were... "If there's going to be any rejection I'll be on the receiving end and not you". So he made the first call to the "birthfather". He confirmed that he was married to lady on the marriage certificate but knew nothing about me. He also confirmed that she had given a child away prior to their marriage. Well, there you have it - I found them right? Yikes - could this really be that easy.....

Yeah right!!! The birthfather then stated that they had divorced 3 years after their marriage and had not heard from her since then. He had no clue where she was and would not release anymore information to us.

Well, I thought I might be at a deadend because if she remarried I would not have a clue as to her new married name, the year that she remarried or what state she may have moved to with a possible new marriage. Then I remembered we had her maiden last name and first name from the marriage certificate. I knew she had 13 brothers and sisters and they were Mormons. And Mormons are known for family and every family has a tree...... Back to genealogy!!!!

I looked on the computer and found a family tree that had 13 brothers and sisters. My birthmom's name from the marriage certificate was on there!!! WOOHOO!!! success. I now had names of brothers (whose names don't change through marriage). I started looking in death records, phone books and came across a grave where one of the brothers were buried in the county where I was looking. I looked in the phone book and found a lady in the same town/ county (very very small town/county) where I was looking. A british lady answered and confirmed that she was the EX-wife of one of the brothers, but not the one buried. I did not tell this woman who I was or what I wanted in fear that she would just hang up on me. I just told her that I was "family" and was looking to locate "N". She told me "N"s new name and where I could find her. Well, that led me to another state's phone book and I found her number in Oregon. By this time I was shaking with fear, turning ice cold in my bones. "J" got home and wanted to make the call right then and there, but I had school. I was taking a spanish class at a local college and had a final that night. Besides "J" had to teach a class that evening and I really wanted to mull it over for a few hours. I got through the test, but barely. I was antsy and wanted to finish and get out of there. I finished and was on my way to what was to be a life changing event.

When I got home, I turned on the TV in hopes of just relaxing a minute and put my mind in neutral because it was in overdrive for so many hours. No such luck. "J" walked into the house and said "Let's do it Babe". So he called her..... She answered and "J" explained why he was calling. I then heard him ask "Are you my wife's birthmom?" Then there was silence and he hung up the phone. He looked at me and was white as a sheep. I thought oh Dear God what have we done. Then he laid the story on me. The lady we thought was my birthmom was actually my aunt (my birthmom's sister) who married my birthfather 6 months after my birth. She too relinquished a son 6 months older then me. She told "J" she's make a call and be back with us shortly. I know now that she did that to protect my birthmom. I'm glad she did.

Well, now I'm a nervous wreck and ready for a drink. Next thing I know the phone rings and "J" answered it. He asked "are you my wife's birthmom?" Her answer..... "Yes honey, I am". He told her to hang on and handed me the phone. Both of us were kind of dumb founded. We were both joyful and yet very nervous. She had so much to say and I didn't know what to say. That's when she told me that I had 6 half siblings. I about fell over on the floor and asked "J" to get me a drink (Hey, I deserved it at that point). "J" was all excited running around the house singing "it's an Oprah moment", and I told him "no it's not I haven't even told my mom and dad yet, you'd better not call Oprah".

My birthmom "J" answered all my questions with ease and told me about my siblings. They had been searching for me for the past 5 years prior and here I was. After we talked for about an hour she said that she wanted to call all the kids. She also said that she would have them call the next day because it was so late. I insisted that they call that night!!!

One by one they phoned me until the wee hours of the morning I think my bsis (only bsis rest are boys) phoned about 5:30 a.m. We exchanged addresses, phone number, birthdates, names, etc. It was SOOOO overwhelming, but in such a good way. My brother "T" was the last to call since he was moving and didn't have a phone yet. He knew nothing about me for several days.

Well, my circle was almost closed...... now for the 1st meeting.....

Why I Searched

I guess that my first thoughts of searching were when I was a teenager. Every adopted person has questions in the back of their mind.

Even though I was adopted I resembled my older brother who was a natural son of my parents. I also had a little sister who was 3 years younger than I who also was a natural daughter of my parents. My sister didn't resemble anyone in the family much and my brother used to tease her telling her that she was the adopted one and not me. Thinking back it wasn't very nice of him, but she was the brat little sister - KWIM?

I got married very young. In fact "J" and I met in February and he proposed in April on my birthday and we were married in June of the same year in the early 80's. Some call it a whirlwind romance. I call it pure LUCK that it's lasted this long.

I got pregnant right after we were engaged and lost it almost half way through the pregnancy. Got pregnant again almost right after and same thing. We were devastated. The doctors couldn't find anything medically wrong with me. They told us the usual "just relax". But in 1985 my world was flipped upside down.

I started having really bad pains in my lower right side. At first we thought it was appendicitis and "J" would rush me to the emergency room. They'd run test after test and come back with a Demerol injection and tell me to go home that they couldn't find anything wrong. The pain would cease for a month or two then come back with a vengance. The emergency room knew me pretty well and would tell me the same thing (shoot me up with Demerol and send me home). During this time we were seeing a fertility specialist as to why I kept miscarrying and then couldn't get pregnant. She asked about medical history and it dawned on me - I HAVE NONE!!! She put me on fertility drugs and such. My hormones were raging and completely out of control. I'm surprised "J" didn't leave - lol. Poor guy. He knew when to hit the bar for a beer or go work out in the studio.

In December of 1985 the pain came back and this time it didn't leave. I suffered with it for 2 weeks through the Christmas Holiday because the hospital kept telling me it was in my mind. I finally called my fertility specialist and she told me to meet her in the ER. So, there we were, New Year's Eve in the ER. I couldn't sit, walk, lay down, keep anything in my stomach, I was dehydrated and was basically doubled up. That's when she did an ultra sound (something none of the doctors before did) and found that I had a mass in my stomach. She thought it was a cyst and put me on birth control pills in hopes that it would shrink and be removable. She wanted to hospitalize me that night but I refused. It was New Year's Eve and I really wanted to be home with "J". They sent me home with massive pain pills and something to take so I could at least keep water in my system. I waited until January 6th and went back to the doctor because I just couldn't bear the pain anymore. The pain pills weren't helping and I was miserable and ready to cut myself open and take out whatever was in there (seriously that painful).

She scheduled the surgery for the 8th and I headed over to the hospital for all the tests. That in itself was a comedy. I have very very small veins and they roll and collapse when they try to draw blood. Well they wanted to do an IVP where they shoot dye into your veins to see where the kidneys and lines that run to the bladder are set. They couldn't find a vein. I was miserable with pain and scared out of my mind. I hated and still hate needles. They wouldn't let "J" come in with me because it was in the radiology department and I wanted out of there. Well, this doctor came in and I recognized him. He was the one who did the hystersolpingogram on me previously. If you've ever had one - UGH it's painful. Anyway he remembered me because I wouldn't let him run that specific test for the 5th time because I was in so much pain. So he decided to get even and said to me, "if I can't find a vein in your arm, I'm going for your neck". That was all it took, I flew off the table and headed down the hallways holding the gown together in the back (I swear this is a true story). All of a sudden I heard my name paged telling me to pick up the "white phone". Well I finally found a "white phone" and picked it up. It was my doctor trying to console me and telling me how they need the test done in order to do surgery. I was in tears and shaking. I loved my doctor because she understood as a woman what I was experiencing. "J" found me in the hallway and came to my rescue. He joked with me to point out the doctor and he'd knock him around a little - LOL. Anyway, they got a an expert needle person in there and they finally found a vein in my arm (I was black and blue for weeks after that).

The morning of the 8th, I signed for 5 different surgeries. My doctor wasn't sure what she would find when she went in there. I could except anything from small incisions to full blown zipper. Well, luck wasn't with me.... I have a nice sized scar on my tummy from them having to do major surgery. They found that my left tube was the size of a grapefruit (11cm) and twisted. The other tube's fimbria was tucked in and fused. So they removed my left tube but left the right one in (even though damaged) because of my age at the time and possible microsurgery.

My hubby and mom were there for me when I finally got in my room. The doctor came in and we were discussing what happened (well they were actually, I was in and out of it). They said that everything was normal except for the size. They ran tests and found NO diseases or anything (i.e. clomidia, etc). She said that I was a text book page because they can't figure it out and said that I might have been born with a defect and as I matured it progressed.

Those words came out again as to "Do you have any medical information?" Those words kept haunting me because I wondered if it was something hereditary. So I decided to search....

I sent my information to the agency and they sent me the Mutual Consent Forms. I signed them and sent everything off. Then a wave of panic crossed over me. I can't explain it, but at that moment I thought that I had made a huge mistake signing that paper. I mean I wanted to meet my birthmom, but through a 2 way mirror where I can see her, but she can't see out. So, I rescinded the form and asked them to pull it from my file.

It wasn't until 14 years later that I finally resolved to the fact that I needed to search for my own ease of mind. I wanted to know things. Did I have any siblings, medical information, who did I resemble, etc. Actually, I didn't want to know these things I HAD to know these things.

DON'T STOP DANCING
At times life is wicked and I just can't see the light
A silver lining sometimes isn't enough
To make some wrongs seem right
Whatever life bringsI've been through everything
And now I'm on my knees again

But I know I must go on
Although I hurt I must be strong
Because inside I know that manyfeel this way

Children don't stop dancing
Believe you can fly Away.... Away...

At times life's unfair and you know it's plain to see
Hey god I know I'm just a dot in this world
Have you forgot about me?
Whatever life bringsI've been through everything
And now I'm on my knees again

But I know I must go on
Although I hurt I must be strong
Because inside I know that manyfeel this way

Am I hiding in the shadows?
Forget the pain and forget the sorrows

But I know I must go on
Although I hurt I must be strong
Because inside I know that many feel this way

Children's don't stop dancing
believe you can fly Away.... Away...

Am I hiding in the shadows?
Are we hiding in the shadows?

CREED

Just an Ordinary Day

When I was little, my big brother (9 years my senior and natural child of my parents) would take me outside to play. We'd wrestle, play tag or hide and go seek. He was always there for me. Funny, he still is.... But there's one day that will stick in my mind until the day I die.

It did start out an ordinary day. I was about 5 or so playing with "R" in the front yard. We were wrestling around when he suddenly stopped and said "you know you're special". Being about 5 I didn't understand and thought he was teasing me like he always did. But then he went on to say "because you're adopted". Needless to say, I had no clue what he was talking about much less really knowing what adopted meant. I asked him what it was and he said "a nurse saw that your parents were fighting and came in the room and snatched you away. That's how you got here".

Well, considering that my big brother always teased me, I didn't know really what to think. Of course being the little sister I told him that I was going to rat him out to Mom - LOL. I did go to my mom that afternoon....

Thinking back on it, I remember the shocked look on her face. To be honest, I don't think that she was ready for me at the age of 5 to come up to her and ask about adoption. She lovingly sat me down and explained adoption. But my big brother's answer of a nurse was WAY off. And I guess I was a little relieved. My mom told me that my birthmom loved me very much and that she was very young. She answered all my questions that afternoon is her sweet way. I admire my mom for that. She could have taken the easy route out and told me that my brother was making it all up, but she didn't. She confronted the issue with me and we talked about it.

My parents were always honest with me. I think that my mom trying to explain the situation to a 5 year old was difficult enough, but being in the mid 60's and explaining it the way she did took alot of love and understanding.

The church we belonged to had a school associated with it. That's the school I attended for 9 years (Kindergarten through 8th grade). It was there I realized what an impact adoption had. Not in a bad way, but for being a small school (only 13 in my 8th grade class), 3 were adopted in that class alone. I never felt lonely about adoption. There was always someone there who understood. Actually, it was pretty cool growing up that way. Nothing was hidden away and feelings were always validated.

Through my teenage years it still remained the same. Although I always wondered about my birthfamily and had questions that I would have liked answered, I was content and happy. Isn't that the way children should grow up?

Where does one start!!

I've thought about starting a blog for quite some time. A place where my story can be told and yet it's my choice whether people are able to view or even comment on it.

There's so much to say and so much running through my brain at this point. It's hard to know where to start. But I guess the beginning would be the best.

The internet is a wonderful tool for work, play and even education. I look back and think about how things were done before the internet was even conceived as an idea. Now with the push of a few buttons you can learn a new language, educate yourself on politics, get the morning news all over the world and even meet friends and foes on line.

Now you may ask, meet foes?

Sure.... I've met plenty on line in the last 2 years. Although I wouldn't call them foes exactly. If you google at any computer you'll come up with hundreds and maybe thousands of sites that have to do with one subject. And that's what I did. I googled "adoption". I was amazed at the sites that I found. Some were interesting, some were educational and some (I hate to say) were hateful. I was amazed by the bitterness of some when it came to adoption.

I read and read through many sites trying to makes heads or tails out of some. I was amazed at some of the stories. Stories that were from the heart. There were stories where I saw myself as an adoptee. There were stories where I saw myself as an adoptive mom. Then there were stories where birthmothers poured their heart out on the screen. It was the Good, the Bad and the Ugly. There were happy stories where some were content with their decisions. Some where they were sad and miserable. Then there were some stories that were beyond belief and these birthmothers saying how they were going to "kidnap" their children back and that all adoptive parents were evil kidnappers and such. I couldn't believe it.

I understood their anger and even empathized with them. They said that they had a brandished letter on their chests for the rest of their lives. That society took their children without their permission. That the system and all adoptive parents thought nothing more of them but old crack whores and drug addicts. I kept getting this vision of people standing over them with a gun held to their head while they held their children and smoked crack. Sorry, but that just DID NOT happen. But that's how they perceived themselves. But yet again blamed that on society.

It was weird but if you were not a miserable adoptee, birthmother or an adoptive mother willing to turn over her child back to the birthfamily then you were branded a troll and evil person not worthy of their attention. It was like world war III on the computer.

What I couldn't understand was that they brandished me because I was an adoptive mother, but they never took into consideration my other title of adoptee. I knew how some of the adoptees felt there, but because I am content and happy with my life and have a wonderful loving relationship with my adoptive and birth families, I'm not normal. I don't fit into the book "Primal Wound". That book annoys me at most.

These groups used and continue to use outdated material. Unfortunately, it is true that in their day society did have a different view of adoption. One that was coersive and kept hush hush. There's no doubt about that. And I believe firmly in reform of the system and open records for our children. However, the open records issue has it's pitfalls. It really concerns me that after reading at these sites and how some of these birthmothers want to turn back the clock with their relinquished children, that the open records should be issued to the adoptees only. The birthmothers were there when they were born. They know the date and all the information on it so why do they need a copy anyway.

Yep, some of these groups are wild, unbelievable, sad and downright comical in writing. So, I come down to the question of this post - Is Adoption a friend or foe?

To some it might be a friend. And others it will always be a foe. I guess it really depends on what end of the spectrum you're standing. To me - like my birthday, I was born on the cusp so I guess I'll always be on both sides.