Every Scar is a Bridge

After A Week...

2007-11-04T19:57:00.000-08:00

I've got to say, this entire process of having contact with my birth mom has been much less stressful/traumatic/emotional than I thought it would be. I'm fairly low-key to begin with, but occassionally stuff gets to me. This whole process really hasn't. Part of it has probably been that I've had a really busy week and honestly haven't had much time to even think about what has transpired. I also think that the fact that it took almost two years to hear anything was a blessing - I've had plenty of time to think through outcomes and responses, and for the most part, given some time, I can digest just about anything without losing it.

So far, the hardest thing to wrap my head around is the fact that I have all of the family's last names. I, of course, immediately signed up for an account at ancestry.com and began digging around some different sites. I've never had even a slight interest in geneologies or ancestries, so it was all pretty new to me. She wasn't kidding when she said we were Swedish - I'm fairly certain my great-grandparents were actually born in Sweden on one side of the family and, after many hours of late night ancestry research (which will fry your brain after a while...) hit a gold mine of information and managed to trace another part of the family back to the 1500s - also about 90% from Scandanavia. So far, that has been my only "freak out" moment - after a few hours of looking at this stuff, it was almost 2am and I realized I was looking at a list of 60+ of my ancestors names - first names, last names, birthdates, cities, states, countries-and it was one of the strangest moments of my life so far. I never thought I'd have ANY more info besides what the adoption agency gave my parents, and to have been blessed with so many answers was pretty overwhelming.

I guess the only other thing that has really surprised me is how hard it was to write the second letter. I wrote the first letter with the thought that if she never wanted to hear from me again, I was going to say everything I needed to say. She ended her letter with a tone of "I'll let you decide how to move forward" and hinted that maybe someday we'd meet and that if we did she was sure I'd be welcomed by her family. I'm really happy her family is OK with us communicating and am glad she would want to correspond further. Its just hard to know what to say, really. Not exactly sure about meeting in person at this point. It'd be weird on a few levels - especially the fact that because she lives about an hour or so away from my parents, so if I were to visit her, I'd have to do it while I was staying with my mom and dad which doesn't seem quite right to me.

Speaking of which, I did talk to my mom and I told her I got my medical information. She wanted to hear all about it and seemed pretty happy that I got it. I didn't mention the direct correspondance at all. I don't really know how she'd react to it, and figure there's no use in upsetting anyone over something that doesn't need to be upsetting.

So, I'm sending my second letter tomorrow and we'll see what happens!

The Letter Arrives

2007-10-27T18:24:00.001-07:00

My letter from S arrived today. Honestly, I really haven't had much anxiety about it. Haven't been watching for the mailman or running out to get the mail or anything like that. After waiting almost 2 years to hear anything since I started the process of trying to contact her, I had learned this wasn't a process to rush.

She wrote me a 4 page letter and included 2 pages of medical history. I read it right away, even though we were on our way out the door. The long recap:

She is glad I contacted her, and says based on the pic I sent that we look alike. She told me the story about her life around the time when she got pregnant with me - she drank too much, and - surprise! Here I am! It's funny, because ever since I was kid, I've always thought that was the case. I have no idea why or where that came from, but I've always just felt like that was the case. She said she wanted to keep me, but couldn't, because she didn't make enough money and was living with her parents.

After I was born, she never saw me. That's probably what I was most curious about - what exactly happened to me after I was born. I didn't ask her specifically about this, but she ended up answering me anyway. She said that for the first few years, she was upset when she saw an infant or a toddler, wondering if it was me, and that she always remembered my birthday and wondered what i was doing.

Ok, weirdest thing in the whole letter: the doctor told her I had a slight cleft palatte but that it was correctable. I'm still trying to figure that one out. (And I've spent a good portion of the past 24 hours staring at my nose and lip in the mirror.)

She had thought about trying to find me over the past few years, then the letter from the courthouse came.

She loves to try new recipes and cross stitch. I also thought it was funny that she wrote: "I hate people who call you honey or sweetie". Seriously, I couldn't agree more. I need to warn her about the south. Also, I have a half brother who is 21.

Most exciting part of the letter: I have the last names for all of my grandparents! I've never had even a remote interest in geneologies, but now I've spent the past day looking things up. German and Swedish it is. A little Irish, too, she wrote. Oktoberfest, Ikea and an Irish car bomb. I'll take it.

She doesn't want to use the court as a middleman and included her address. Seems like she's open to correspondence and possibly meeting one day. Her husband and mom are supportive of whatever she decides. No pictures included, because they aren't a "picture taking family" and don't have any recent ones.

Lots of medical info - including a grandparent that had rheumatoid arthritis, like me. That would have been really great to know about ten years ago. Nothing else too terribly worrisome in the medical history, but there's a lot of stuff in there. I've spent a lot of time googling things since I got this letter :)

I'm still digesting all this info and have probably read and re-read the letter at least 10 times. She wrote that she had to re-read my letter a bunch of times before she could process all of it as well. Anyway, still thinking about everything and if/how to respond. All in all, I couldn't have asked for more.

a development!

2007-10-11T11:35:00.000-07:00

Close to two years after starting this process, and after long ago abandoning any hope that anything would come of it, I got a call this morning. Yep, "the call".

First, I can't even believe I'm one of "them" now. By "them", I mean the adoptees that have a name for their birth parent(s). We'll call her S. I am not allowed to know the last name, but the woman from the courthouse, who is super, super nice gave me a rundown of the entire conversation.

Apparently S tried to call last year sometime, in response to the letters that were sent out. Unfortunately, when she left a message, she left her married name, so they didn't know who she was or why she was calling and didn't end up calling back. (The lady researching my case has about five other jobs in the courthouse and is way overworked.) Anyway, they recently found her married name, and resent the letters. S called back again. This is actually good, as 2006 had enough drama in it for me.

She said that no one knows about me, except her husband, her parents, and her sister. Her sister just found out last week, because she also got a letter and inquired as to what it was about. So its a bit of a sticky situation, but its not like I'm asking to move in, or even meet up face to face. Her dad made her tell her husband about me before they got married. Her husband, upon finding out that I was trying to contact her, said she should let it be, but when she heard that I was mostly interested in medical info, she seemed cooperative.

Apparently she's had a lot of medical problems and currently has a mass on her lung. She will find out today what that is. I feel kind of bad about the timing - that's a lot for a person to swallow :(

She has been married to the same guy for "her whole life" and it sounded like she still lived in the same part of the country. She told the lady on the phone that she figured this day would come, but that nothing really prepares you for it.

She has agreed to begin writing down my entire family medical history - ages/age of death for my grandparents and any medical conditions, all the way through her children - if she has any. I was a little too shell shocked to ask.

According to the courthouse lady, S's main reservations are 1. I'm essentially a secret and 2. She got the vibe that there was something really difficult about the circumstances of the pregnancy and that S probably wouldn't want to think/talk about it.

Roughly five hours later, I'm still processing all this information, but its good. :)

Next steps: S has agreed to read a letter from me and will write back, sending her letter via the court system, although she may not write any more than my family medical info. It was suggested that I ask specific questions and tell her about myself and my life. I'll send a picture and probably include my contact info. She is allowed to do the same, but I suspect she'll opt not to. I would really, really love to know the last name though. Gotta make up for all those genealogy projects I did in school that always felt slightly fabricated. I've started the letter, but its really awkward to introduce yourself to the person who gave birth to you. I don't want it to be too long, so its like I've got a page or two to prove I made something of myself and to tactfully ask what I want to know.

Anyway, planning to have this thing in the mail tomorrow.

2007-01-07T20:49:00.000-08:00

The pastor at our church shared this story this morning. Thought it might be of interest.

2006-12-30T10:38:00.000-08:00

Called and left a message for the lady at the courthouse last week - no response. Last year at this time when I decided to embark on this search, I remember thinking "There's no way it will be a year before I hear something" but here I am. I suppose I'll try to call her again, since she didn't even return my voicemail, but I'm fairly certain she'd have called by now if she had anything to report.

In other news, another birthday has come and gone. I had to work this year on my birthday, which was a little weird. No one knew it was my birthday so I luckily avoided the awkward singing and such. On my birthday I always think, "If there is only one day a year that my mom remembers me, it would probably be today" and I wonder if she really does remember. As with most years, I head to the adoption registry website and see if there are any new listings. No such luck. Does anyone else find those registries super depressing? Thousands and thousands of adopted people posting all the info they know hoping to find a long lost relative and very few families actually looking for the children they put up for adoption? Blah.

That time of year again

2006-12-08T20:35:00.000-08:00

Long time with no update. Haven't heard anything from the woman at the courthouse. Calling her back is on my list of to-do items before I travel for the holidays. Last I heard she was sending letters to people who live in the area where I was born who had the same last name as my mom, asking them if they know her current contact information. My guess would be she never heard back. It's a little sad. You know, it's not like I was going to ask for a seat at Christmas dinner. A picture and some medical info would have probably satisfied me for life. But, what are you going to do?

Birthday number 27 is coming up in a few weeks. Birthdays are so weird. I wasn't one of those adopted kids who freaked out on my birthday. I was always excited, but it was mostly because I liked the idea of having a party at my house. Having a younger brother and sister and a dad who worked odd shifts meant that I seldomly got to have friends over, so I always looked at birthdays as the one time of year I was allowed to have people over. As I got older birthdays got a little more weird. I mean, it's your "birth day" so what do you naturally think about but the day you were born, which for most adopted people probably doesn't turn out to be the high point of the lives of anyone invovled. In fact, I have always found myself thinking that my birthday may very well have been the most difficult day of my biological mom's life. Or maybe not. Maybe it wasn't as hard for her as I like to think it was. Who knows.

Anyway, this year's birthday will be different for sure. My birthday falls between Christmas and New Year's so I'm always at home in Pennsylvania on my birthday. In fact, I've never woken up anywhere except my parents house on my birthday nor have I ever gone to work or school. Usually my parents take me out for lunch and whatever friends happen to be in town go out to dinner. I don't usually do anything too out of the ordinary, just lie low and let it pass. This year, having only been at my job for a few weeks, my birthday will actually be my first day back at work after the holiday break. Yuck.

Wondering

2006-09-11T17:18:00.000-07:00

I'm guessing that most adoptees have had one (or many) of those situations where you think "Oh my God, what if I'm related to this person?" It happens to me frequently. I meet someone that I have a lot in common with and think "This is what it would be like with my biological family." While, of course, I know that isn't always the case, I would assume that most adoptees hold that ideal in their minds that - there are people out there just like them, and upon finding those people the feeling of being "different" just fades away. It's kind of an annoying feeling, to be honest. You really want to ask. But you feel like such a weirdo for even wondering about it.

I guess it really all boils down to having to feel secure and know who you are without waiting on unknown variables define that for you. Because in all liklihood, the variables (my family) probably won't ever be defined, and to let that rule my identity is a waste.

And now a quote from some very deep, inspirational folks:

Family isn't about whose blood you have. It's about who you care about.

-Trey Parker and Matt Stone, South Park, Ike's Wee Wee, 1998

Back in Action

2006-05-22T08:20:00.000-07:00

Wow...it's been a while. I've not fallen off the face of the earth. My life has been so crazy for the past few weeks that, no kidding, I had to go back and read my last blog post here because I honestly couldn't even remember what the last update on the search was. This search went from being something I thought about almost daily to something that didn't even cross my mind for over a month, because I've been so preoccupied with some things that were happening at work. Luckily, all the junk at work is almost over now, the stress level is (slowly) dropping, and I have an entire week off of work before I start a new job next Tuesday.

When I started writing this post, it was just going to be a "I'm still here, still waiting" post. But right in the middle of writing it, who should give me a call? The lady from the courthouse =) This is how out of touch I am right now - when I saw the number from Erie on my caller ID, it didn't even occur to me that it was related to the adoption search. I just let it go to voicemail.

But, I called her right back and here's the deal: She had written to my agency to get some more info. She told me she had "a lot" of info. "Loads" of info. She began telling me what the info was about, and it is exactly the same info that I already have. That's ok, I'm glad she has that info to go on now, not that it's much. She confirmed that my mom is not from Erie County and is from McKean county where I was born. She said that because my mom was from another county than where I was adopted, she did not come to the courthouse to relinquish her rights, she just signed the papers and mailed them in. Because of this, the judge didn't get the opportunity to ask some general questions that they usually ask parents who are relinquishing their rights. They don't even have a date of birth for my mom, which is making it really hard for them to locate her, because they said her name is pretty common.

However, upon further research, she found that there are only four people in McKean County with this last name, so she's mailing letters to all of them today to see if they have any updated info. She can't tell them why she needs the info, she just has to hope that they cooperate.

I did learn something new, though. My placement with my parents was delayed a few weeks because they thought I had a hearing problem. And all this time I thought my hearing problems were a result of going to all those concerts...haha.

She also told me that it is really unusual that there is no father listed on any of my papers. Apparently in 1971 they passed a law that said that the only acceptable reasons for a father not to be listed are either she was drunk or really didn't know who he was, or she was raped. Ah, the pleasant circumstances of my life.

So, that's the story, she said at least another few weeks until she has any more updates.

Frustrating

2006-04-07T18:16:00.000-07:00

I finally got a phone call from the lady at the courthouse today. I left her a message about a week ago and she never called me back, which is fine. She seems like a horribly overworked person, so I hate to put pressure on her by constantly calling. When I talked to her today, she seemed like she didn't even remember talking to me previously - she reintroduced herself to me.

Anyhow, she told me that she went through my file and that my mom was not from Erie county, so she was writing a letter to the county where she did live to find out of they have any marriage records for my mom. She is also writing to the agency that handled my adoption because she said they generally have a lot more information. It was good to get an update. She said it would be at least a few more weeks before she heard back, which is fine.

The whole situation is frustrating for a number of reasons. First of all, this lady knows who my mother is. She knows her name. Besides just a name, this woman, who is unrelated to the situation entirely, probably knows more details about her than I do. It just seems wrong - a random, unrelated person is allowed to know about my history, but I'm not. Its like someone dangling something that belongs to you right above your head, just out of reach.

Secondly, I tend to be a bit of a control freak sometimes and it is killing me that this lady is researching all of this stuff, when I can guarantee that me or someone I know could do a much quicker, more thorough job. I've got a friend with some connections through work and if she had my birthmom's name, could probably locate her in 30 seconds. Strangely enough, this same friend worked in the office of the lawyer who handled my adoption AND the court house at one point. If I weren't a law abiding citizen.... =)

But anyway, its good to at least get an update and know that progress is being made. The whole situation is serving as a good reminder that God's timing isn't always the timing we want, but its better in the long run.

Stories

2006-03-26T12:25:00.000-08:00

You are your stories. You are the product of all the stories you have heard and lived - and of many you have never heard. They have shaped how you see yourself, the world and your place in it - Daniel Taylor

This was written in our program at church today and it struck me. I like it a lot, but its a little scary at the same time. I completely agree that a person's stories have a big impact on who they are and how they see themselves. That makes searching for my birth mom all the more intimidating, since the "story" that I have made up for myself to explain where I came from could be completely wrong. So if stories "shape how you see yourself, the world and your place in it" and someone comes along and changes my story, am I going to feel differently about myself, the world and my place in it? Then again, I suppose that having my story changed would create a story in and of itself. weird....

Finding Balance

2006-03-23T17:32:00.000-08:00

I met with the adoption group again last night. I am amazed every time at what a diverse group we are. I really do like everyone a lot, even if I don't necessarily agree with them all the time. But I am learning a lot.

Last night the topic was talking to your kids about being adopted. One woman told us that her son's birth mom has the same first name as a member of her extended family and for that reason, she hasn't told her son his birth mom's first name. She said that it just bothered her and she didn't want him to think of his birth mom every time they talked about this family member. He asked her what his birth mom's name was once, and she told us that she "danced around the question" and told him to remind her and ask again when they got home. That was over a year ago, and she proudly said "and he never brought it up again". That story made me unbelievably sad, because I feel like I have a pretty good guess of what went through the kid's head. He probably wondered about it for a few months, finally got up the courage to ask, his mom got visibly upset about it (even though I'm sure she tried her best to hide it) and he will never bring it up again because no kid wants to see their mom upset. I can't even explain how sad that makes me. I felt like I was in some other world listening to this story - it seems so wrong to me that someone would not only do this, but tell other people about how they did it.

Another story came up where a mother knew information about her son's birth family - that he had an overweight uncle - and she said "but of course, I haven't told him about that because he's a little overweight and I don't want him to know". I guess that I just don't understand what the harm is in someone knowing that. Keeping information that may seem worthless to an adoptive parent, but is priceless to an adoptee a secret doesn't do anything except maybe build up a wall between the parent and child when the information finally comes to light. You have no idea how upset, hurt and angry I will be if I someday find out that my parents know more about my history than what they've told me. In fact, I can't think of a single thing in the world that would make me angrier.

An adoptive mom shared last night that she thinks of her child's birth mom every Mother's Day and birthday. It had never occurred to me that maybe my mom also thinks about my birth mom sometimes. It was good to hear her perspective on that.

I am trying hard to see things from the adoptive parents' perspective. I won't lie, though, it's nearly impossible for me to understand them, much in the same way that they will never really be able to understand what its like to be adopted. I just think that keeping secrets and being motivated by fear is not something that you want in a relationship. To me, keeping the circumstances surrounding my birth a secret and making it a taboo subject somehow implied that it was something shameful and wrong, even though no one ever told me that. Someone told a story of a friend of theirs who had a teenage daughter that was adopted. One day while they were gone, she snuck into the files and found all of her information and her parents caught her. I think it is awful that words like "snuck" and "caught" have to be used to describe someone who just wants to know where in the world they came from. I hate that that poor girl had to feel like she was doing something wrong by wanting to know about her past - no one should have to feel that way about themselves.

Anyway, I think the meetings are going well - just trying to find that balance of being able to share my opinion without claiming to be an authority on the situation and at the same time not offending everyone - it's a hard balance to find.

Double Standard?

2006-03-16T05:34:00.000-08:00

I read something somewhere recently, I can't remember where, but it made me think...

When a parent has more than one child, no one ever brings into question whether or not that parent will be able to love more than one child. No one asks if they are trying to replace their other child. No one asks them why they aren't just happy enough with the child or children they already have and why they feel like they need another child.

But when an adopted person is searching for their birth parents, those are exactly the questions that are asked. Are you trying to replace your parents? Why can't you be happy with what you have?

It's as if a parent has an innate and understood ability to love more than one child and to love them equally - its never questioned. But from my experience, and from what I've read about other adoptees' experiences, an adoptee is generally not seen to have that ability when it comes to having 2 sets of parents.

First Meeting

2006-03-08T20:01:00.000-08:00

Tonight was the first meeting of the adoption group at our church. I was really impressed with the mix of people who showed up - really varied backgrounds: a domestic open adoption, a domestic closed adoption (their daughter is biracial), a Russian adoption, a couple who just started the process of adoption this week (the would-be-dad is adopted), a couple who is getting married this summer and wants to adopt, and my husband and I.

I have to say that although my purpose in starting this group was to connect with other adoptees who might be searching, I think I have very little in common with the guy in our group who is adopted. He told us a story about how a few years ago someone who worked at his agency called him and said she no longer worked there and had a bunch of files, and she could tell him who his birthmom was and he said he didn't want to know about any of the info. What?!?!

The low point of the evening was when I mentioned that I was searching for my birth mom which really seemed to offend one woman (mother of a 6 year old, closed adoption). After I said something about it she literally barraged me with questions - it was like she was a machine gun: "How old are you?...How long have you been searching?...Did you grow up in a loving home?...Are you trying to replace your parents?...Do they know?...Why haven't you told them?...Why do you feel like you need to do this?" By the time she got to the last question, before I even realized what I was saying, I blurted out "I think everyone has the right to know where they came from. Everyone." It's probably the first time I didn't give the socially acceptable answer of "I just want to know my medical history" or "I want to know if we look alike". Felt kind of good to stop apologizing for what I'm doing and saying what people want to hear and actually tell someone the truth.

There was another couple there that we really identified with - they are getting married this summer and feel like God wants them to adopt. It is so good to know some other people who want to adopt as their first choice for starting a family - I'm really thankful that they were there.

All in all, I think it is going to be great - I have a lot to learn and hope to be able to help all these adoptive parents however I can.

We Are Named

2006-03-05T18:19:00.000-08:00

I was listening to a song called "Image of the Invisible" by Thrice this week:

We're more than carbon and chemicals
We are the image of the invisible

We all were lost now we are found
No one can stop us or slow us down
We are the named and we are known
We know that we'll never walk alone

Though all the world may hate us, we are named
The shadow overtake us, we are known

The lines that really got me from this song were where it says "we are named". Sometimes, when I think about how I was born with a different name to a different family, and I'm not allowed to know about any of it, it feels as if I'm in the middle of an identity crisis. Who was I supposed to be, if I were normal like everyone else?

I had a fairly crappy week last week, for no apparent reason. Nothing awful happened to me. I just had an overall feeling of incompetence and not belonging anywhere. Everywhere I went I just kept coming back to the thought "What in the world am I even doing here?" I'm sure it happens to everyone, adoptees and non-adoptees alike. It's a scary place to be when you get to that point in your thinking. I thought maybe I should stop the whole search for my birthmom because its too stressful to wait and she probably doesn't want to contact me anyway. I was convinced that I just needed to quit my job because there's somebody out there who would be great at it, and that person was not me. Stupid stuff like that. A lot of times (probably most of the time), my own thinking is my biggest problem.

If there is one thing that I have learned up to this point in my life, its that people aren't mistakes. I do believe that, but I also tend to forget it. Sometimes I don't realize that I've stepped back into the "I'm a mistake and I'm not even supposed to be here" thinking until someone or something jolts me back into reality and reminds me of the truth.

The truth is that as curious as I am about my past and as great or as awful it might be to learn about it, the outcome shouldn't affect who I really am because long before I was ever thought of by any person, God named me and knew I would be here. He knew it was time for me to be here and even though not a single person here on earth had it in their plans for me to come into existence, here I am.

Jeremiah 29:11 has been my favorite scripture since I was a kid: "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future." Maybe my name and my family haven't remained constant, but one thing has always been consistent - God has always been there overseeing everything for me. When I was a kid, I always imagined God saying the words of Jeremiah 29:11 to me when I was a baby in the womb, in the hospital and in foster care - it gives me a lot of peace to think of that. Just reading that verse makes me feel...something.

My reality check came at church this weekend - a lot of what we talked about was finding your identity in Christ, and not in your circumstances. Jeremiah 29:11 was one of the scriptures we covered. It couldn't have come at a better time - I needed some guy to yell it at me from a stage into a microphone to be reminded that being someone's "mistake" isn't a mistake at all to God. He's the one who really named me.

A Face

2006-03-02T05:24:00.000-08:00

I called the investigator who is working on my case this week - last time we spoke she had told me to call her back after three weeks, which would be today, but I called on Monday thinking that I wouldn't actually catch her on the phone and I'd have to leave a voicemail that she probably wouldn't get until later in the week. She answered after the first ring. I told her who I said I was just calling back like she said I could. I feel like I am doing something illegal by asking about this stuff, like I'm going to get her fired or something, even though I know it isn't true. She said she hadn't gotten to go through my stuff yet but she had my file right there on her desk in front of her. How weird is it that this lady is allowed to know who my mother is, but I'm not? I said something stupid like "Ok, well, I was just calling....to call" and she said "It's ok, I understand". And I think she does.

Curiousity got the best of me last night and I started digging around on the internet. I'm reading a book called Birthright by Jean Strauss - it is REALLY good - and it has tons of info and personal accounts of search and reunion so it motivated me to do a little research of my own. Nothing earth shattering. I looked at some pictures of the hospital where I was born. I used classmates.com and found two sets of people with the same last name who would have been the same ages as my mother and uncle and attended the schools that they would have attended. But I'm not going to start calling random people or anything. This deal with the courthouse seems like its going to take forever, and it will be a big test of my patience, but I'm willing to wait. I just needed something to pass the time.

One thing I did find was a picture of the doctor who delivered me. It's the first face I have to add to my story. I had searched for the doctor online a few years ago, but I only had first initials and a last name, and had a bit of a hard time narrowing it down, but I found him for sure last night. It is so weird to look at his picture and know that he is one of the handful of people in the world who has seen me and my birthmom together. He saw me during that mytery period of my life between birth and four months. He probably handed me to her after I was born. I wonder if he knew that she wasn't going to keep me. He is also the one who gave me a 10/10 on my APGAR test after I was born. Apparently they use this scale to rate the health of babies one minute after they are born. I think I've only shown my adoption papers to three mothers, and all three of them exlaimed "You got a 10 on your APGAR? No one gets a 10 on their APGAR!" What can I say? I was a child prodigy. =)

Who watched it?

2006-02-25T19:50:00.000-08:00

So did anyone else watch the Darryl McDaniels (one of the guys from Run-DMC) adoption story on VH1 tonight?

If you missed it, it comes on a few more times this weekend. Check it out here.

Wow. I'm pretty much at a loss for words - I can't belive I just watched someone on TV talk to their birth mom and then meet her for the first time. It was a little hard to watch at times, I don't know why. I guess it was hitting a little too close to home. I literally couldn't continue eating my dinner at one point because I felt so nervous watching what was going on. I am going to be a mess if any of this stuff actually happens to me.

It's A Constant Process, This Is

2006-02-25T19:45:00.000-08:00

I started this post a few days ago and didn't really know where I was going with it. It was just a list of things I was thankful for, saved as a draft. Then I went to church tonight; we're finishing up a series called Turning Corners, and tonight was the last part of the series. It's making sense now...

I'm turning a corner. I'm going through something big right now, and I'm not going to be the same when I'm done and I've made the decision to learn from all of this, no matter what the outcome is. For the past few weeks, a line from a Bradley Hathaway poem has stuck with me: "It's a constant process, this is. Growing you into the person you are to become." It is a constant process, it just happens to be a little more intense right now than usual. Tonight we talked about things that can make you lose sight of what God is trying to teach you, and one of the things discussed was that instead of complaining, we should be thankful. Complaining is easy, but when you are thankful it puts things in perspective.

So here is the list I made, and looking back over it, it makes me see how lucky I really am:

My mom didn't abort me and she took care of herself while she was pregnant with me.

I have at least a little bit of information about my birth family. Some people know nothing, or worse yet are never told they were adopted.

My mom and dad took me to church when I was a kid - without my faith I think I would be a really bitter, angry person.

I'm thankful for all of the people that I've met over the course of my life and for everyone I've yet to meet.

I'm so thankful that my parents never introduced me as their "adopted daughter" or treated me any differently than my brother and sister, who weren't adopted.

I'm thankful I was adopted in a county where searching for your family is so easy. I've not had to pay exorbitant fees, and hopefully I won't have to wait for years for an answer.

I'm thankful for the kids that I'll adopt one day - if I weren't adopted myself I'm not sure that I would have considered adoption.

I'm thankful for all the lessons I've learned by being adopted: Every person has a purpose. People aren't mistakes. God loves everyone and can use anyone, no matter where they came from. God saw a need in this world and is using me and my specific abilities to fill that need.

When I think of all these things, I'm most thankful for the impact my adoption has had on my faith in God. The two are intertwined in such a way that I don't know who I would be without one or the other. Would I believe in God if I hadn't been adopted? Could I handle the concept of being adopted without God? I don't know. But I do know that I have a choice - to be bitter and angry which accomplishes nothing or to be thankful and try to learn something from my circumstances. It's not cut and dry - sometimes I am angry, bitter, sad and jealous. But I'm trying to learn.

Take Care

2006-02-24T21:26:00.000-08:00

Since I've started searching for my birth mom, I've found myself thinking about both the worst-case and the best-case scenarios. It is really scary to be this out of control of a situation; one minute I'm thinking about what it will be like to meet my mom and another minute I'm trying to figure out how I'll react when I find out she doesn't want to contact me.

Someone asked me the other night if I was prepared for what it would be like if my mom doesn't want to contact me. I thought for a second and told her no. I don't know how you could be prepared for that. I've thought about it. I've thought about how I won't have any idea what to say to anyone who asks me about it. I've thought about what I would write on this blog. I've thought about whether I'd be able to go to work that day. But thinking about those things doesn't prepare you.

The other day I was listening to Copeland's album, Beneath Medicine Tree (one of my favorites, highly recommended), while my mind was racing through possible outcomes that this search could have. I'm not sure if this happens to anyone else, but sometimes when I'm listening to music, something clicks and the lyrics suddenly jump out at me and I "get it":

Don't lift a finger, let Me show you
The only way to let this go
Don't lift a finger, let Me hold you
Hold you here until the pain it has all gone
I'll take care of you
Have faith that when you call My name
I'll be there, I'll be right there

I've learned a lot about adoption, myself and faith over the past few weeks. Last week, through this song, I learned to just stop worrying about it. There's nothing I can do to change the outcome of all of this, and I know I'm not alone - I have a supportive husband, an amazing group of friends, a group of bloggers who really do know exactly how I feel, and most importantly the promise that God will be there with me - to take care of me. So I just need to let it go. Instead of worrying about it, I'm starting to do something I've never done before - praying for my birth mom.

I think it was a combination of being so convinced that adoption wasn't supposed to be discussed and the feeling that my birth mom wasn't a real person that made me never even consider praying for her. That is really weird - the first time you talk to God about your mom. Praying for her is a little scary, too, though, because it makes her seem even more real, but it is so much less stressful to pray for her than to worry about what her reaction will be. If you pray, maybe you could say one for her, too.

A Thought

2006-02-22T20:46:00.000-08:00

Growing up, I thought about being adopted. I don't remember how often I thought about it, but when it did cross my mind I thought about it in great detail. You'd think that in twenty six years, I'd have thought of everything. I'm quickly learning that I didn't think of everything. Here's something that has blown my mind over the past few days...

this
and
this

Holy crap - there could be a picture of me and my mom out there somewhere? It had never occurred to me that anyone except maybe the hospital had a picture of me before I was adopted at four months old. Is there a picture of me hidden away in a jewelery box or an attic? Might I one day be able to see what I looked like when I was born? It's pretty crazy to think about...

The Tipping Point

2006-02-18T12:14:00.000-08:00

I just finished reading a book called The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell. What I appreciate about The Tipping Point was how the ideas that were being communicated were supported by data. I am not one who enjoys spending hours reading about someone's speculations. I would rather sit down and spend hours formulating my own speculation and theories, I guess. I don't generally read for pleasure, I read for information.

In my adoption reading thus far, it seems like books are either based on the author's personal opinion with very little data, like the writing of Sherrie Eldrige, or as in the case of Journey of the Adopted Self by Betty Jean Lifton, it seems as though the data is based on a subset of a minority of adoptees that are not the norm. Both kinds of books are fine - and both are needed. I've been pleasantly surprised at how much I've enjoyed reading other people's opinions on adoption, even though the books tend to deal with abstract ideas like emotions - that can't be quantified or proven. There is also relevance in books, like Lifton's, that address the needs of adoptees who have deep psychological issues as a result of their adoptions that may be a part of why they act out in harmful, disturbing ways.

I guess what I'm getting at is that when I read, I am a skeptic. You can postulate all you want, but unless you've got some numbers, I might not believe you.

Back to The Tipping Point.

The Tipping Point isn't an adoption book, rather, its a book about social behavior that has some business applications, which is why I was reading it. However, as I came to the end, it actually talked about adoption, and since the purpose of this book wasn't to appeal to birth moms, adoptees, or adoptive parents, I see the author as an unbiased source of information about adoption.

Gladwell begins to address the issue of nature versus nurture which has always been fascinating to me, as it probably is with most adoptees. He writes about the Colorado Adoption Project of the 1970s. They studied 245 babies who had been given up for adoption by following them through the years and administering personality and intelligence tests. The adoptive parents took the same tests. As a control, they also administered the tests to sets of parents and their biological children. The biological children scored similarly to their parents. To quote Gladwell:

For the adopted kids, however, the results were downright strange. Their scores have nothing whatsoever in common with their adoptive parents: these children are no more similar in their personality or intellectual skills to the people who raised them, fed them, clothed them, read to them, taught them, and loved them for sixteen years than they are to any two adults taken at random off the streets.

Wow. With all the reading about adoption that I've done over the past few months, its odd that I've found what I find to be the most interesting study highlighted in a book that I didn't even know would mention adoption! Sure, everyone would guess that this were the case, that bio kids are more like their parents than adopted kids, but like I said, I'm a skeptic, so until your prove it to me, I probably won't fully believe it.

Even more interesting is the conclusion of this study. Gladwell wasn't trying to discredit the "nurture" argument, but rather, where the environmental impact actually comes from. He goes on to provide compelling data to suggest that children are actually more influenced by their peers than they are their parents.

The whole thing was quite interesting for me to read. He really hits the nail on the head - it sometimes does feel like my parents are two random people off the street, because essentially they are - biologically they are probably no more similar to me than any of you reading this blog right now. The difference is they invested their time, money and love into my development. But it still feels random.

The idea of environmental influence coming from peers is completely accurate in my case. Once I was old enough to go to friends' houses to spend the night, I was never at home, I always wanted to be at a friend's house. I have always had the tendency to elevate my friends to "family" status if that makes any sense. This week, I really identified with something another adoptee wrote on her blog (which you should definitely check out here):

When it comes to my family I feel disconnected and displaced. I feel very much connected to my husband and friends.

I can really relate to that. It isn't that there is a lack of love for my family, its just that there is a lack of similarity with them, and I've been able to find that similarity to some degree elsewhere - my friends.

Funny how you sometimes learn new things in the least likely of places...

The Group is Growing

2006-02-17T17:18:00.000-08:00

I mentioned a few weeks ago that I am starting a group at my church for adoptees/adoptive parents/birth moms. The time is drawing near for our first meeting on March 8th.

So far, including my husband and I, there are nine people in our group. I've been emailing everyone as they join to find out how they have been affected by adoption. Up until today, it was all adoptive parents - a couple who adopted from Russia, a woman who adopted from China, and the other group leaders who had an open adoption in the US. I was especially excited about the people who adopted from Russia, because we've talked about adopting from Russia and I would love the opportunity to talk with someone who has done it before.

However, since signups began a week or two ago, I've been a little discouraged, because I felt like it was going to end up being a parenting class, populated with people who couldn't have children and that, through adoption, have been able to start a family, which is really wonderful, but I'm at a little bit of a different stage in my thoughts about adoption at this point. I used to think that way, that adoption was a win-win solution to a problem - a baby that was an accident, and family that wanted a child. Hook the two up and every one wins. And I think it can be a really great situation for adoptive parents and children, don't get me wrong. But it seems that there is a lot more to it. Parents are angry and disappointed that they can't have kids before they land on the adoption solution. Mothers have to make a painful decision on behalf of their children. And the kids sometimes have a lot of mixed emotions about the whole thing.

Today I got an email that another couple had signed up for the group. I emailed them and just got their response back - they are just about to start the international adoption process. The story sounded pretty typical as I read through the email, and then I got to the last sentence,

"Oh, and my husband was also adopted, as was his sister."

I am so excited and relieved that not only will there be another couple there that doesn't already have kids, but there will also be another adoptee!!

The Replacement Baby

2006-02-14T18:35:00.000-08:00

Until about three years ago, I had never thought about why my parents adopted me. I thought that they were just nice people who wanted to help a baby that didn't have a home, so they adopted me. Then, a few years back, a friend of mine asked me why my parents adopted me. I had never been asked that before, and I was a little stunned. I'd been asked a host of other questions, the typical questions, but never why.

That is what initially put the thought in my mind that my parents had trouble conceiving and adopted me as a result. Now that I'm learning more about adoption, it seems really obvious, but honestly, I was 23 before that thought ever crossed my mind. The thing is, my mom was pregnant five times over a period of seven years while I was a kid, she had a lot of trouble - miscarriages, stillbirths, etc. and only actually had two children, but still - five times in seven years seems like a lot to me. So, I vetoed that theory.

At one point when I first started searching, I went to the website for my adoption agency, a local agency in Erie. I read the requirements to adopt and it said you had to have a letter from your doctor as proof of not being able to conceive, so I started thinking about it again.

Then yesterday, I was talking to my mom on the phone and she was telling me about the cataract surgery she's having on Wednesday. She said the nurse called her today and asked her about any surgery or medical procedures she'd had done. She said "I told them about my miscarriage, stillbirths, having my appendix out..." and then she said something about some kind of ovarian surgery I'd never heard of. I asked her if that was the surgery she had when I was a kid, right before she had my sister that made her able to have my sister. She said no, that this surgery was shortly after my mom and dad got married, before they adopted my older brother and it was for people who couldn't get pregnant.

Yeah, that will mess with your head a little bit, to go your whole life thinking your parents picked you because they were just being nice, and then finding out that basically you were the second choice, because after ten years they couldn't get pregnant. Now I just feel really stupid, like everyone else already knew this, and I've just now been enlightened.

Not to say that my parents didn't adopt me because they were nice, but knowing what I know now makes me view adoption in an entirely different light. Did they say things like "I guess we'll just have to adopt"? I'm sure they were excited to get me, but was it a big disappointment for them to settle for someone else's baby?

I'm actually very thankful that I didn't find out about this until now. By growing up thinking that parents adopted kids because they were nice people who wanted to help is always what made me want to adopt someday. And that is still why I want to adopt - I want to help kids - maybe kids that are older, kids in other countries, I don't really know, but I've always felt this need to help kids because my parents helped me. If I had grown up thinking about adoption any other way, I probably wouldn't want to adopt a child myself.

Little Known Fact

2006-02-11T10:35:00.000-08:00

Little known fact about me: I have an older brother.

Honestly, I forget about him most of the time. He is ten years older than me, almost to the day - his birthday is December 29 and mine is December 28. He was adopted, too. Through this search I've been reminded of him a lot.

His story is quite a bit different than mine. His mom and dad (his dad was my adoptive dad's brother) both died in a car accident when he was three. There was a big family battle over who would get custody; apparently his maternal grandparents put up a good fight for him, but my parents (who were really his aunt and uncle) won. (It's great to use war metaphors like "battle", "fight" and "won" to talk about the future of a child.)

My older brother was definitely rebellious. He smoked, drank, swore, didn't get good grades, ran around with girls my parents didn't like, and was always in trouble for his bad driving. Seemed like he got in a car wreck about three or four times a year and it was almost always his fault...He was racing his friends, his girlfriend covered his eyes, really stupid stuff. He always fought with my parents and I hated it. He made it a habit to miss curfew, lie about where he was going and cheat on his girlfriends. Every time he missed curfew I remembered dreading the moment he'd get home because I knew there was going to be a big fight. I'd stare at the clock as the seconds turned into minutes and sometimes as the minutes turned into hours and think "Why can't he just be good?"

He was always kind of mean to me. He took me to see my first concert (The Beach Boys!) when I was in elementary school - but only because my mom made him take me. The first movie I ever saw was with him, again, he spent 30 minutes complaining about how he didn't want me to come, but eventually he gave in. He always let me know how annoying he found me and complained every time my mom made him do something with me, even if it was just me wanting to ride downtown with him to pick up a pizza for dinner, or getting him to give me a ride to a friend's house. When he was seventeen and a senior in high school, my mom had my little sister. She was my older brother's favorite, and he would let me know about it.

When my older brother turned eighteen, he got a large amount of money from his real parents' insurance policy, something like $100K. He moved about 700 miles away to go to college. He came home for the summers for the first few years. Then, when he was twenty, my mom had my little brother. My older brother stopped coming home at all shortly after that. My little brother and my older brother have seen each other about three times. The last time my mom, dad, and little brother saw him was in 1989, when my little brother wasn't even a year old.

My little sister and I went to visit my older brother and his wife in 1993. I was in eighth grade and she was in kindergarten. I know he didn't want us to come visit, but my mom told us he was excited about seeing us and we went. She took us to the airport and shipped us off to go visit him, as if that was going to fix her relationship with him. He was late picking us up from the airport, that's one of the few things I remember from that trip.

He got married and didn't invite any of our family to the wedding. We found out a few months after the wedding, when my mom called him. Same thing with his first child. Had my mom not called, she never would have known. He's since been divorced and remarried, and hasn't ever called to tell us about any of it. My mom would send him a card for every holiday imaginable - but he never responded. We only knew what was going on in his life if my mom called him. The last time she called him was about 4 years ago, before my wedding to ask him if he was going to come. He said no and I think that made her stop sending him cards and Christmas presents.

In 1997, some friends and I went to visit colleges and one of them was in the town where my brother worked. I went into his office and he looked at me and said "Hi, What can I help you with today?". How do you even respond to that? I said, "Um, I'm your sister." He acted excited to see me, and said he'd call me and we'd get dinner later that night. That was the last time I saw him, because he never called.

We were both adopted, and I wasn't a bad kid, so I never understood what his problem was. At least he knew where he came from. However, as I've been reading about adoption over the past few months, I am starting to understand him more. He needed counseling, but I suppose that in a small industrial town up north in the 1970s, counseling was only for "crazies". I mean, he had to remember his parents, he was three (almost four, I think) when they died. Granted, I wasn't there when he was little, but from the time when we both lived at home, and judging by how my parents handled the topic of my adoption, I doubt anyone ever asked him how he felt or told him anything about his parents. And he was probably like me, afraid to ask about them. We didn't even have a picture of his parents in our house, in fact, the only time I've ever seen a picture of them is at my grandma's house. Why? It makes no sense to me. From what I've read, the mentality among adoptive parents used to be "the kids will forget about it, so just don't bring it up" and I guess my parents bought into that idea, however, I can't totally blame them. Someone probably told them that and who is going to argue with a social worker who does this for a living?

Now I'm finally starting to understand why he was so mad and rebellious. I have his address and I'm thinking about sending him a card. I don't really know why I would want to do that or what I would say to him, but worst case scenario, I'll never hear from him - which really wouldn't be any different than now so I suppose there's nothing to lose.

Three Weeks

2006-02-09T21:34:00.000-08:00

I spent 30 minutes Tuesday morning psyching myself up to call the investigator who is supposedly working on my case. I said I'd call after I got a shower...after I got dressed...after I fixed my hair...after I put on my makeup - and finally, I had nothing else left to do except call or leave for work. So I dialed the number.

About this time, I realized I had no idea what I was going to say or even why I was calling. Half of me thinks the person on the other end of the call probably talks to adoptees all the time and would be kind and understanding. The other half of me feels like I'm going to be scolded when I call, as if I'm doing something I shouldn't be doing by searching for my mom.

I really just want to call to find out what exactly they're doing, what the process is. It sounds crazy, but I honestly didn't believe there was a real person out there "investigating" anything - it seemed like a big hoax to me.

The phone rang...and rang...and rang. Voicemail. I hung up. I tried again Wednesday morning. Same thing - lots of psyching myself up, but no answer - voicemail. Hung up again. I don't know what I want, or why I'm calling, so I don't really have a "message" to leave - "Hi, just calling to see if you are a real person or not. Call me back if you are"?

This morning was a bit different, instead of ringing five or six times, it rang once and went to voicemail. I thought maybe this meant she was on the other line. So I waited ten minutes and called back. This time she answered. Her name is Carol.

I was caught a little off guard by the fact that someone actually answered. This is the woman who can give me the info I want, I certainly don't want to piss her off. So I told her I just had some questions and she said "Ok, go ahead". I explained that I just wondered what exactly was going to transpire, and told her I didn't really understand the whole process of was going to happen. Carol was completely understanding, and I really appreciated her no-nonsense tone (and her northern accent). I really do like they way most people in the north are usually very direct. I have lived in the south for a number of years now and a lot of time I feel like people tend to candy-coat things, afraid of sounding rude or offending someone. I also work in the music industry where people have a tendancy to lie, blow things out of proportion and say what they think you want to hear without ever following through. I like it when people are able to just say it how it is without the fluff. That is something I really appreciate about Carol.

The first thing Carol told me was that she does three other jobs at the court house and that looking for adoptees' families is lowest on the totem poll. She said she works on it as often as she can, in between hearings and that this morning was the first time all week she'd been to the office that handles requests like mine. Sure, that's not encouraging news, but I SO apprecaite her honesty and bluntness. There are four other files that she will be working on alongside of mine.

She told me that she will always be 100% honest with me and that she would call me every step of the way. The first thing she will do check and see if my mom ever updated my file with any info. If so, I can have whatever info she gave them.

If not, the next step is to find out where my mom lived. I always assumed my mom lived in the town where I was born: Bradford, Pennsylvania. She told me that in many cases, women left home and stayed with relatives while they were pregnant to avoid the stigma that comes with being young, unwed and pregnant. This blew my mind. Thirty seconds into the conversation and she's already shooting potential holes in my story, just like I thought she would.

If my mom was from Erie county, she can check marriage/divorce records right downstairs at the courthouse. If she was from another county, she has to write letters and it takes a little longer. If she can locate her, she calls her and asks her if she wants contact or not and that's it.

If she can't find her, she sends letters out to potential family members asking for her contact info to "update records". Then she follows up by calling them. If they manage to put two and two together and ask her if this has to do with the adoption, she is allowed to tell them about me. I remember her exact words, she was slow and deliberate; she said she had been doing this a long time and I think she knew this was going to be weird for me to hear:

"Now...if your family members ask about you...I can tell them about you...I'll call you and find out more about you before I call them so I can tell them about you if they ask..."

That is so weird. THAT IS SO WEIRD! I never once thought that I might have aunts uncles and grandparents that knew about me. It was always just my mom.

Finally, she told me that if she finds out my mom is in jail, I can change my mind and not proceed any further with the search if I want to. That's a pleasant thought. Of course it has crossed my mind before, but I really and truly believe she is a good person.

I talked with Carol for another few minutes, all the while trying as hard as I could to scribble down every word she said and listen intently, like she might slip up and give me a name on accident. I felt really good about the whole situation after hanging up. I felt like she was on my side, and I got the vibe that she loved this part of her job, even if she couldn't dedicate a lot of time to it. She told me that it will be another two weeks before she has time to dig into my file and to call her in three weeks if I don't hear from her. It's lame, I know, but I'll be counting down the next three weeks until I can call her again.

Room At The Table

2006-02-04T20:33:00.000-08:00

I'm reading a book called Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller. It is amazing how those writer-types can concisely communicate what they are trying to say, all the while keeping their writing interesting and not comprimising the art. I'm no writer, but Donald Miller is, and in one chapter of this book, he writes about finding a church. The analogy he uses is not only great for his purpose of conveying his idea about finding a church, it also sums up in about 4 sentences what took me 4 paragraphs to try to explain in my last post:

"In the churches I used to go to, I felt like I didn't fit in. I always felt like the adopted kid, as if there was "room at the table for me." Do you know what I mean? I was accepted but not understood. There was room at the table for me, but I wasn't in the family."

Ha! Yeah, Donald, I do know what you mean...

Just a Glimpse

2006-02-04T12:46:00.000-08:00

Yesterday for work, I went to a showcase for a new band. They are a brother and sister duo - and they looked EXACTLY like each other. It was fascinating. I couldn't stop staring at them because they really looked like twins. After they played, I was talking to the girl, and found out they have five more sibling at home - seven kids in all. She told me how close they all were and that they were all musical. I wondered if they all looked just like her and her brother. I am so intrigued by people that look like their relatives.

I guess that is one of the reasons I'm searching for my birth family. I have spent my entire life trying to fit in with a family that I really have very little in common with. Every time I introduce my parents to someone, I feel like they're staring at me - thin, tall, brown hair, fair skin, freckles - and staring at my mom and dad - my mom who is short, not-so-thin, blonde hair, blue eyes and my dad who is short and stocky with olive skin - and wondering what kind of freak genetic accident occurred to make someone who looks like me come from people who look like them. When I show people photos of my siblings, I generally get a "that's your brother?" or an outright "you look nothing like your family", which is fine. It doesn't bother me at all, because I know it is true. The wedding pictures are always fun to try out on new people who don't know I'm adopted. = )

My personality is really different from everyone in my family, as well. Although my little brother and I do share a similar sense of humor, he's still a lot different than I was at his age. Both my brother and sister are really shy - I was never shy as a kid. Everything that goes on at home is a major drama. I have always been much, much more laid back and relaxed than anyone in my family.

I guess I am hoping to find a family that I don't feel like I have to make excuses for. Why don't we look alike? Why don't we act alike? Why am I so tall? Why do I have freckles? I am so tired of feeling like I have to prepare people to meet my family for the first time. Don't get me wrong, my family has always been there for me, and I've had a good life. I'm not trying to replace them. I just want to have what they already have with each other - a sense of belonging, a biological connection.

A thought occurred to me for the first time while I was visiting home over Christmas this year - I was sitting in the living room, trying to watch something on TV and I looked around - my mom in the kitchen talking to herself, my brother in his room with the door shut, my sister using the computer and my dad just standing in the middle of the living room - Who on earth are these people and what am I even doing here? I felt like I was with someone else's family for Christmas. It isn't that I'm uncomfortable when I'm there, I'm perfectly comfortable. Besides living in a foster home, that house is the only place I ever lived growing up. But it isn't about being comfortable, it is about feeling like you belong.

Yesterday at that showcase, I caught a tiny glimpse of how amazing a sibling bond can be and that made me think - my husband and I want to adopt kids someday and I always just assumed we'd adopt one kid at a time, but how cool would it be to adopt siblings? I feel like a person could be so much more at peace with adoption if they had grown up with a brother or sister from the same family, the same mother, who looked like them and acted like them and had some of the same personality traits and mannerisms as them. Just one physical thing to link you back to where you came from seems like it would be enough to put you at ease about being adopted. Sure, there would still be questions and struggles, but at least you wouldn't be all alone - you would always have your sibling, who you knew would understand what you were going though.

We're sold on the idea = )

A Letter in the Mailbox, A Story in my Head

2006-01-30T17:56:00.000-08:00

Getting the mail and answering long distance phone calls have now become the highlight of my days. An "unavailable", "anonymous" or even an unrecognized phone number give me an adrenaline rush. Checking the mail after work has taken on a new meaning. Today, I actually wasn't thinking about what could be in the mail when I got the mail. But when I opened the box, there was a LOT of stuff in there, and I remembered - I'm waiting for something...

2 medical bills, one web hosting bill, an ad for pet medications...and there on the bottom was that very official looking envelope with the return address written in old english typeface, a large ornate seal next to it and my name typed on the envelope. "Pennsylvania Clerk of Records, Register of Wills and Clerk of the Orphans' Court Division" - what a mouthful.

I open it up and there are two pages, so I start looking at the one on top. It is a receipt for the payment I sent. They printed the receipt on January 26. On to the next page. Its printed on letterhead with the same old english typeface and the ornate seal at the top. It is a really, really short letter. Just 2 very short paragraphs. My stomach sank - all I could think was,

Dear adoptee,

We got your money and called your mom and she doesn't want to talk to you.

But thanks for the money.

Sincerely,

Your Friendly County Courthouse

I sucked it up and read it. Basically, they got my money and my petition. They sent my petition to the Orphans' Court Investigator (sounds so CSI, doesn't it?) and she will inform me if there is any information available regarding my adoption. Then it gave me the investigator's direct line and said I could contact her with any questions.

Yeah, I have a question. Is this for real? Because a lot of the time I feel like it is really fake.

It is such a weird feeling to know that "my file" and all the information that I want to know so badly is probably sitting right there on someone's desk. That lady has got some power! I'm thinking of what is sitting on my desk right now - a to do list (or rather a to do notebook), some business cards, receipts and articles. Nothing of any interest to anyone besides me, really.

But this lady has on her desk files full of information that people have been waiting their whole lives to know. It is the rest of my story. It is my identity. My story has a lot, I mean a lot of missing pieces and I've always been a pretty imaginative person, so I've just made up the parts that I didn't know. My mom was a good person. She was smart and pretty and funny and she got drunk one night and got pregnant - whoops! It happens. Now she is older, successful, sophisticated and thinks of me often. I have an entire story about what happened in the hospital. I know what she thought and felt when she was pregnant. These are things that every other kid really does know, but since I didn't have any way to know, I just made it up and has always been truth to me. As much as you might be Italian or the miracle child your parents thought they'd never have or the "whoops" baby that came 15 years after your siblings, I am the kid in these stories. That is who I have been my entire life - the daughter of that woman. No one could ever prove otherwise. But this lady at the courthouse can. She might already know things to shoot holes in my theory, without ever contacting my mom.

So I guess that's what I've been thinking about lately - what is my reaction going to be if the truth doesn't match up with my story? What if my mom was angry about being pregnant? What if she was bitter that she even had me? What if now she's a screw up, drug dealing, alcoholic? Its a lot to comprehend, to think that in a matter of weeks, days even, the entire foundation of everything I've ever thought about my birth, conception and relinquishment, my identity could be changed.

I think that is why I'm still not able to accept my birth mom as a real person and not just something the government made up to keep me happy. Because if she is a real person, she could be different from what I've made her to be in my head, so it might just be better to keep her on paper, the way I've always known her.

Disturbing?

2006-01-29T13:36:00.000-08:00

I had an idea to start a group at my church for adoptees, birth moms and adoptive parents to connect and talk to each other. I emailed my church about it and told them I didn't necessarily want to be the leader of the group, but I would definitely have an interest in being involved with a such a group. They wrote back and said they thought they knew just the person to lead the group. Turns out, the woman they knew wants me to help her lead the group. I'm not exactly sure what that means, but I agreed to it. I met her after church today.

Earlier this week, I emailed her a description of what I looked like: really tall with short, dark hair. I still wonder what my birth mom, who is 5"4, blonde hair and blue eyes would think if she ever saw me. I was at church by myself today because my husband was sick. I was standing at the back of the church, in a large mass of people, feeling pretty stupid, when I saw a lady holding a baby staring at me. I figured that must be her. I was right.

She was a nice lady. Her son is six months old, an open adoption and they have a very good relationship with the mother, who is 16. Every time they visit with the birthmom, she spends the hours following the visit journaling everything that happenend, what was said, etc. I was in awe - what an incredible idea. Maybe that is really common and I'm just not familiar with open adoptions, but I was really impressed. Is it wrong that I'm jealous of a six month old baby? Ha Ha!

On the phone a few weeks ago, I suggested that she read "20 Things Adopted Kids Wish their Adoptive Parents Knew". Today, she pulled that book out of her bag. She put it on the table. She told me she found it really disturbing. "Really?" was my shocked response. I think she didn't like the part where the author theorizes that babies suffer a loss due to the separation from their birth mothers. I don't know what I think about that theory. It makes sense. But there is no way to really prove it, and I like data. Either way, I don't think "disturbing" is the word I would use to describe that book.

It was a harsh brush with reality, to hear someone who is involved with adoption tell you that the concepts and ideas that had made you feel validated about being adopted for the first time in your life were "disturbing". I talked to her for about an hour. That's the longest I've talked to anyone, ever about adoption, and it was really hard to keep my composure for that long, especially in front of a complete stranger. I left feeling tired, anxious and like I am a "disturbed" person. I'm a little afraid that this group is going to consist of a bunch of adoptive parents and no other adoptees are going to show up except for me, on display as the classic adoptee whose parents did everything wrong and who everyone hopes their kid doesn't grow up to be, even though I woke up feeling like I was pretty well-adjusted person.

Strange how people can have such different takes on things; what one person finds enlighting another finds disturbing.

Some books I've been reading

2006-01-27T20:00:00.000-08:00

I've been reading a lot. I have some business books I got for Christmas, some books that friends have let me borrow that are sitting on the coffee table collecting dust becuase I want to read these books about adoption first. I finished Sherrie Eldridge's "Twenty Life Transforming Choices Adoptees Need to Make" a few weeks ago. Her writing style is captivating and it also helps that I agree with her on just about everything she writes. I read this book in just a few sittings. Some of the more helpful "choices" that she highlights are:

-"Thoughts about our birth parents are innate: our choice is to give ourselves permission to think about them without reservation." I had never heard anything remotely like this until I read this book; thinking about my birth family has always been somehow "wrong" to me. And in 26 years I had never really even considered my birth father until now. It's been enlightening to think about these people and not feel guilty about it.

-"Letting go of our birth mother's original decision will set us free: our choice is to let go of rejection and move toward forgiveness." I have definitely come a long way down this path.

-"We can be wounded healers: our choice is to lay down our lives for others through transparently sharing our story." I guess that is what I'm trying to do through this blog.

The other book that I'm currently reading is "Journey of the Adopted Self" by Betty Jean Lifton. This book really freaks me out. It feels like reading a psychology book. And everyone in the book seems to be a lot crazier than me. There was almost an entire chapter dedicated to adoptees who go on to kill their adoptive parents, become serial killers, etc. It made me really uncomfortable to read it. I mean, I know that it happens, but the book is called "Journey of the Adopted Self" and that is not my self! Nearly every adoptee she talks about seems a little wacky to me. Maybe I lucked out and am just one of the more well-adjusted adoptees, I don't know. Regardless of how creepy I am finding most of this book, there are a few things that I have found that really made me think, and those little bits of information are what keep me reading this one:

"But we have to wonder: Does the baby destined for adoption know even before it is born that it is going to be abandoned? Does the fetus get a physiological message of its dark fate from the turbulent wrenching of the womb as its mother's body lies convulsed with grief?"

"When a nonadopted child loses even one parent, everyone is aware of the child's need to grieve. But no one considers that the adopted child also needs to mourn. How can you mourn someone you never knew? people ask, disregarding the child's prenatal bond, as well as the human need for biological and historical connection."

"Adopted children, who get the message that not only were they chosen, but they were chosen to be the light of their parents' lives often do not feel entitled to express any negative feelings, such as grief or anger at being cut off from their origins."

"Adoptees are not clear what they are searching for when they first begin. They say they just want to find medical information, or the reason they were given up, or someone who looks like them...Having been out of touch with their feelings for so long, it is hard for adoptees to know what it is that is driving them forward."

So, there are some good points in this book, but it definitely isn't a "feel good" book. In fact, its pretty depressing and I'm not even sure that I'm going to finish it.

All in all, if you are looking for a helpful book that you can identify with and that will help you grow, go for Sherrie Eldridge's "Twenty Life Transforming Choices Adoptees Need to Make".

Being Excellent - For the Right Reasons

2006-01-20T21:36:00.000-08:00

The one phrase you hear a lot as an adopted kid is "You're even more special because your parents got to pick you! You were chosen!". I heard it so much and from so many people that I even repeated it to other people. Let me just state for the record, that this is not what a kid needs to hear. No matter how young, I think that a kids are a lot smarter than adults give them credit for and they are able to read waaay too far into that statement. I know I did.

I lived in a foster home for 4 months before my parents got me. They have never kept my adoption a secret, I always knew that I was adopted and I knew about the foster home. However, I never understood what a foster home was until I was older, maybe 9 or 10, and since my adoption wasn't exactly a topic to be discussed at the dinner table, I never asked. I vividly remember exactly what I thought a foster home was. I even had a story in my head about what happened to me in the "foster home". I thought that when I was a baby, I lived in an orphanage with a lot of other babies, and this was a "foster home". People like my parents would come in and look at all the babies and pick the best one to adopt. The babies would all try to be good when people like my parents came in. My parents thought I was the best one. I swear that until I was about 10, I thought I came from some kind of humane society for humans. Living with that thought as you grow up, coupled with everyone telling you you are something special that was chosen makes you feel like you have to do something to prove that you were a good choice for your parents.

Granted, I was never one to think that my parents were going to get rid of me, that thought never crossed my mind. But I did always feel like I had to live up to a higher standard than other kids, including my brother and sister who aren't adopted. So I overcompensated in everything that I did. I got straight A's. I joined every club that I could. I was hardly at home during middle school and high school because I had some club meeting or extra curricular activity every single night of the week. When I was at home, I practiced the piano for hours and hours. I was the kid that did it all - good grades, musically inclined, behaved well in public and went to church. With a resume like that, there is no way they could regret picking me. It wasn't to make my parents proud, it was to make them happy with their choice. Looking back, I don't even think I enjoyed most of what I did, in high school especially. I just kept myself involved with everything I could so that I could add it to my list of "Why I was the right choice".

I never wanted anyone to be able to say something like "No wonder her mom gave her up for adoption" to me and thank God, no one ever has, because I don't think I could handle it.

Sounds pretty dumb, right? Yeah, I thought so too until I realized that I still do this. Now that I don't have school to gauge my success, it just becomes other things. I try to be the perfect friend, the perfect wife, the perfect employee and the perfect coworker. In a way, it is like trying to prove to everyone in your life that your real mom obviously made a mistake by getting rid of you.

I think its great to strive for excellence, the problem lies in the motivations behind it. If you're motivated toward excellence because you genuinely want to do a good job that is one thing. But when you are overachieving because you feel like you have to prove something to everyone else, to prove that you aren't defective, that you aren't a mistake, that's not healthy. I have always been an perfectionist - I loathe making mistakes. 98% on a test and I'm obsessing over the one question I missed. But I never thought about why until recently. Part of it is just my personality, but there still is that little kid somewhere in there trying to prove that she was the right choice. It's a pretty crappy feeling, especially when you do mess up and prove that you aren't the perfect friend, wife or worker. These are a couple of verses that have been helpful in reminding me why I should be doing a good job, being a good friend, etc.

"Whatever you do, do with all your might..." Eccl. 9:10

"Work hard and cheerfully at all you do, just as though you were working for the Lord and not merely for your masters, remembering that it is the Lord Christ who is going to pay you...He is the one you are really working for" Col. 3:23-24

No Great Expectations

2006-01-20T18:29:00.000-08:00

I got the papers from Erie County in the mail yesterday. The information they sent (which she said she couldn't fax to me) consisted of 6 pieces of paper. Granted, they were stapled together, but how long would it have taken to take the staple out and fax them? Anyway...

I filled it all out, wrote the check for $150, and sent it in today. From what the information they sent me says, they are going to try to track her down and ask her if they can share her contact information with me. I included my contact information for them to share with her. I also had to write the reason I wanted to contact her, and this is the reason they are going to give to her. I'm sorry, is it weird or unnatural to want to contact your mother? Can't I just want to contact her because I want to? But, something about those forms feels like a test, like I'm being evaluated, and if I write the wrong thing (like "I want to see someone who looks like me" or "I want to know if she remembers my birthday or not") they'll just throw away my forms as soon as they read them. So I wrote something about medical information and wanting to be able to write her a letter.

I'm almost afraid that it is all going to happen too quickly. What if she is really easy to locate and they find her next week and call me with her info? I guess that I always put the thought of finding my mom off in the distance, and now that it could really happen in the not-so-distant future, it is kind of scary. I'm still not sure that I actually believe she's a real person. Like I said before, she's always been like a character in a story to me, a made up part of my imagination or something. I don't have the slightest idea what I would even say to her.

I also don't know how the whole situation works as far as sharing contact information. Will the people at the court house call me first to tell me that they gave her my info? Or am I just going to get a random phone call at some really inopportune time and place and it will be her? I feel like I'm going to be caught off guard and every time the caller ID displays a long distance number, I'm going to freak out. So this weekend, I'm going to write a letter to help me collect my thoughts so that if she actually does call me someday, I have something to say besides "The weather here is great!"

The whole situation is a little stressful and a little exciting all at the same time. I'm doing my best to keep my expectations low so that I'm not disappointed.

The Big Picture

2006-01-18T19:31:00.000-08:00

Lately, I've been reading the book of Genesis. It is funny how you know all of the stories as a kid, but when you read them again as an adult, they can take on a completely different meaning. I just finished reading the story of Joseph. This guy was estranged from his family for most of his life because his brothers sold him, yet he was able to completely forgive them for everything they had done, because he saw the big picture. The fact was, after he was sold, Joseph went on to become a powerful leader, an opportunity he wouldn't have had if he hadn't been sold. Not only was he successful, he was also instrumental in saving the lives of his entire family because of his powerful position. And it wouldn't have happened if he hadn't been sold.

Can you even imagine that? It is sometimes hard to think of my birth mom in a forgiving way. After all, she gave me away - its not a good feeling. But when I think of the level of Joseph's forgiveness, it is inspiring. He remembered his brothers selling him. He knew it was because they were jealous. He had years and years to be angry about it, and he had every right to be angry. When his brothers came to him for help, he could have easily told them to go home and die. But it says that he wept at the sight of them and forgave them and it is because he was able to look past everything that is so wrong about what happened to him and see that it was God's way of saving his family from death.

It is a lot easier to be forgiving when you think of things that way. God had a plan for me, and it wasn't to stay with my mother, just like it wasn't God's plan for Joseph to stay with his family. By being adopted, I've been exposed to people and situations that I wouldn't have otherwise been exposed to, just like Joseph was presented with opportunities he wouldn't have had if he hadn't been sold. It is a LOT easier to forgive someone when you take a step back and look at the big picture and realize that even something that seems so inherently wrong, like selling your brother or leaving your baby, can be turned into a blessing.

No More Excuses

2006-01-17T17:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I had an excuse not to call the Erie County Orphans' Court and find out what my next steps were, I left the phone number at home. But today, I remembered to bring it with me to work, so I had no excuse. Around lunchtime, I entered the number in my cell phone...but I couldn't bring myself to hit "call". Maybe I was afraid the person on the other end of the line was going to tell me there was no hope or tell me that I was just another nuisance adoptee trying to make more work for them. Either way, I knew I couldn't call from work. I don't know why, it's not like I work in some huge office with hundreds of strangers running around. I guess I was just afraid that whatever this person at the court house was going to tell me was going to be upsetting and, as most adoptees know, we always have to look like we have it together. So, the next logical place? From my car in the bank parking lot, of course. (I'm not totally crazy, I actually DID have to make a deposit!)

The lady was pretty nice. She is mailing me a packet of information. It sounds like what I read was correct, you pay $150 and they basically search for your birth mom and contact her to ask if they can share her information. I asked the woman "Can you just fax me this information?" and she replied "Well...are you here in town?" I told her I wasn't in town and she said she really needed to mail it to me. Later, I talked to a friend of mine who used to work at the court house in Erie and she told me that they do in fact have fax machines, but you have to enter a ten digit code before faxing to a long distance number. Forgive me if I'm jumping to conclusions here, but it seems like this lady was just being lazy. I find that unbelievable - someone is looking for a lost family member and you can't even fax them a form? UGH!

In my conversation with her, she asked me something that I had never thought of before. She said "Do you know what name you were given at birth?" Um, I had a name at birth? On my papers, it just says "Baby Girl Lynn" and I think my mom told me once that my foster parents gave me the name Lynn, but it had never occurred to me that I might have had a name at birth. I have no idea how things like that work, but the woman on the phone certainly made it sound like everyone was given a name at birth. Did I really have a first name and a last name at birth? That is really weird to me. I guess that for the most part, I have never even considered that my life started until I was 4 months old and lived with my parents. I mean, I have no pictures, I don't know what I was like as a newborn, no one that I know saw my first smile, my first dirty diaper, or the first time I rolled over, so in my mind, it is as if it never happened. I just showed up as a 4 month old child.

This is so bizarre. What if my birth mom did name me? And, if she ever thinks of me at all, what if she thinks of my other name? Maybe to her I'm "Jessica" or "Susan" or "Katherine". WHAT?!?! How weird is that?! This is really messing with my head.

Progress

2006-01-14T20:17:00.000-08:00

So today, much to my surprise, I had a letter from the McKean County Orphans' Court in my mailbox. As soon as I saw it, I knew that it was much too early for it to be good news. The government isn't nearly that efficient, I mean, I just sent these forms in on Monday to an office that still uses a typewriter to address their envelopes.

I was right. Inside were the forms that I had sent in with a post it note that said "If you were adopted in Erie County, you need to contact them, not us". So what exactly does that mean? McKean county has NO RECORD of my having been born? That is a really weird feeling, did they just erase all evidence of me? It kind of pisses me off.

So now I move on to searching in Erie County, which is a completely different process. I can send them $75 to release my non-identifying information, which is probably the same as what I already have, but there is no way for me to know except to pay the fee and get the papers. This is lame. If a non-adopted person in Pennsylvania wants a copy of their birth certificate, they can pay $10 and get it. I'm not even asking for a real legal document here. I just want them to open my file and make a copy of some papers that don't even have any names on them and I have to pay $75 for that? And that is only IF I am "approved" to have that information. What the hell? That makes me really angry.

But there's good news (I think) in all of this. It looks like I can pay $150 (that is not the good news) and they will actually search for my birthmom, contact her, and ask her if they can release her information to me. This sounds all to good to be true, so I'm going to have to call on Monday to get the details.

So, all in all, at the end of my first official week of searching...I'm at the exact same place that I was when I started searching last week.

The 80-20 Rule

2006-01-12T16:56:00.000-08:00

Today we had a lunch meeting at work, there were about 10 of us there. At the end of the meal, the owner of the company talked about how he thought it was good for everyone to get together and talk about good things that were happening in their lives. I have absolutely no idea what possessed me to speak up, but I just blurted out "I was adopted when I was a baby". Well, crap, can't stop talking now. Seriously, I don't know why in the world I started talking, it was like a bad case of verbal diarrhea.

So I told them about how I was adopted, had been reading a lot, and was starting a group at my church. I told them the story about how I was really wishing I knew someone else who was adopted, and right at the moment when I was thinking about that very idea, the girl across the hall came in and told me that she was adopted. Yeah, um, blank stares. Maybe it was due to my poorly formed sentences, or my stuttering or that fact that I probably looked like I was about to lose the delicious lunch we had just enjoyed. I mean, it wasn't too awful, because I'm lucky enough to work with a few of my good friends, so they kind of know what's going on, but everyone else - blank stares. So I ended my story with "That's a really big deal".

I am still about 80% horrified by the whole situation. I have to maintain that non-adopted people really don't understand the significance of adoptees meeting each other. I can't explain it. Obviously, since the only way I could describe it was "a really big deal".

But there is 20% of me that is ok with this instance of talking when I didn't mean to. After lunch, a woman at the meeting started asking me all these questions about being adopted, and come to find out, she's been trying to have kids for a few years and is now considering adoption. She wants to talk more, so we're supposed to get lunch sometime soon. So, I guess I'm glad I spoke up, because maybe I can help fill a need or answer some questions that I wouldn't even have been aware of otherwise, which is pretty cool. But it doesn't mean I'm not still 80% horrified.

The Wait

2006-01-10T17:46:00.000-08:00

I read part of a book this weekend and one of the chapters was called "An hour with a fellow adoptee is better than weeks of therapy." I talked to the girl in my office who was adopted yesterday for about 20 minutes or so about our stories and I would have to agree. I suppose that the next best thing to seeing someone who looks like you is seeing someone else who has never seen someone that looks like them. Also, it is good to know someone else who knows nothing more about their beginnings than what a few papers with fragments of sentences (at best) tell you. And finally, and perhaps the most validating, it is great to know that you aren't the only person who can't even make it through the commercials about that adoption show that comes on the Hallmark channel without crying like a baby.

Speaking of babies, my mom called me at work to talk about something that happened when I was a baby earlier this week. (Yeah, at work. That is really where I want to have this conversation) She told me a story I hadn't heard before. Apparently when my parents went to the courthouse to get me, the lady came out with me and said "I don't know if she's going with anyone...she's gripping on for dear life to whoever is holding her". And they had to pry me off this lady to give me to my parents. After reading what I've read over the past few weeks, that was really hard to hear. I've read that babies who are separated from their mothers at birth are in a state of fear and unrest and although they don't know what is going on, they know something is wrong. Obviously, its all a theory, but I suppose it makes sense.

Anyhow, I suppose that all of the places I have mailed my forms to will probably have them by Friday, so that means I should be hearing back sometime around next Wednesday, right? Just kidding. I've read enough to know that there are people who have been struggling with government for years and years to no avail. I actually got this really random email from a customer this week about patience...and I bet it is a foreshadowing of things to come. So now the wait...

Exciting...and not so exciting

2006-01-09T17:17:00.000-08:00

Wow...that is all I can really say right now.

First, there have been over 60 unique visitors to this site, just since I started last week. I know that in web terms that is nothing, but these aren't customers or sales leads, these are real people. Every time I log in and see that the count has increased, I am amazed and encouraged.

Secondly, I have been reading about the benefits of connecting with other adoptees. That's part of the reason I started this blog. Not just to benefit myself, but so that other adoptees can benefit as well. I have also contacted my church and they are going to put together a group for people affected by adoption - I can't wait! I thought about it for most of the weekend. The group isn't supposed to start until mid-February, and I wondered how I could manage to wait that long.

But then, are you ready for this? At the end of the workday today, one of my coworkers comes into my office and says "You were adopted, too?" What!?!? This girl has worked in our office for a few months now but is ultra shy so I haven't really gotten to know her very well - however, her adoption came up in conversation with another coworker and he told her that I was adopted, too. I kid you not, I had to hold on to my desk in order to keep myself from falling out of my chair. What are the chances of that?! I feel so lucky and so blessed and so reassured that God is with me that I can't even begin to describe it.

In less exciting and encouraging news, I talked to my mom tonight. I just wanted the name of my adoption agency. Here is about how it went:

"What do you need to know for?" To which I wanted to respond, why do you want to keep everything a secret? But instead...

"I'm trying to see if she updated the medical file they have for me at the courthouse" That is a lie. I already sent all of my forms in earlier today. It did ask for an agency, but I put enough other information on there for them to identify me without an agnecy name. Yes, I'm a whimp. Definitely not ready to tell her what I'm really searching for.

"Well, she was only 24, I doubt many people who are that age that give up their kids actually come back and update the file" My mom always made my birth mother out to be some kind of whorish slut and whenever she talks about her she uses a really horrid tone of voice. It makes you feel really great, you know?

"I read online that some people have gotten updated medical forms"

"Oh, did they find their parents, too?"

"Some of them did, but some just got medical info"

I hate talking to her about anything that has to do with my adoption. My parents gave me a home and provided what I needed, but they never gave me an outlet to talk about being adopted. Once my mom knew that I understood the concept of adoption, she never brought it up. Not once.

I think that subconsciously, that forced me to choose between my biological family and my adoptive family. It was always like my mom was playing defense when I asked questions about my real mom; as if there were teams and my real mom was on the 'other' team, which of course was the wrong team, the bad team. They made it something that was covered in secrecy and, in not so many words, shameful. Just by body language and tone of voice I could tell she didn't want me to talk or ask about her. I mean, seriously, you could at least stop doing the dishes for a second to answer your nine year old when she asks you why there isn't any information about her dad. But instead, it was just "she didn't even know who he was" spoken in a completely judgmental voice while slamming down a pot. In essence, it feels a lot like being rejected all over again, because you came from someone like that and not people like your adoptive parents. When posed with this subconscious choice, I think I subconsciously chose my biological family, which I realize now is probably why I don't hug my parents and haven't told them I love them in probably 15 or 20 years.

But you know, at least I can learn from that. We plan to adopt kids someday, and I swear to you that those kids can talk about their real mom every single day if they want to. They can make up stories about her and tell their friends about her. I want them to talk about it and I can't wait to talk about it with them. I suppose you can't expect someone who isn't adopted to understand that it isn't a threatening thing to let a kid think like that. Sometimes the best way to learn is from other people's mistakes.

Turning Corners

2006-01-08T18:11:00.000-08:00

I love my church - I go every week and not because I feel like I have to, but because I don't want to miss anything that happens there. It is an amazing, hope-filled place, and I really love it.

It is certainly no coincidence that the message at my church this weekend completely applies to everything that I've been thinking about recently. Like I said before, if you aren't a "church-person" (whatever that means) don't let the fact that it is a "sermon" turn you off. I am confident that any adoptee who is in the process of turning a corner in their life right now and discovering the impact that adoption really has on a person can learn A LOT, and be really encouraged by this message.

Download it here - it is the message from January 7. Even if you aren't an adoptee, it's a great message for anyone going through a change.

Better Days Are Coming

2006-01-07T19:43:00.000-08:00

I filled out the dreaded "forms" this morning and they are now all ready to mail in. It wasn't as horrid as I imagined. I'm skeptical that anything will happen as a result (One form is a request to release my entire file, one form is a request to see if my mom ever updated her medical history in my file, and the last one is a form to enter my info into a large private adoption registry) Then, we went to church.

My head has kind of been spinning for the past week or so, and I don't think I was ready for tonight.

First, there is this girl who always sits right in front of us at church. She is about my age and sits there by herself. Then, every week, about 10 minutes into the service, her family comes. She says hi to her dad and brother and hugs her mom. She always sits next to her mom. They look exactly alike. Same hair, same eyes, same nose, same smile, same size, same build, even the same sense of style. It always makes me mad. Or, in reality, its probably just that I'm jealous. I bet people tell them they look alike all the time. Tonight, her and her mom were singing on stage, no more than 20 feet right in front of me, so I had to look at them the whole time we sang. But, I suppose that if I had a mom like that, I would want to go everywhere with her so people would say we looked alike, too. A lot of times, I just feel like going up to people and asking them if they know how lucky they are to have that kind of connection with someone.

Anyway, besides my mom-envy incident, I have to say, after hearing tonight's message, I'm really, really excited about what lies ahead for me regarding this whole adoption issue, and I realized that even if my search is in vain, I personally have a lot to learn about life, myself and letting things go. When my church posts tonight's message online, I'll link to it here, because its something that every adoptee has got to hear, regardless of your religious background. I think that God is getting ready to teach me something big, I have no idea what, but I am ready for it.

This whole change in my attitude about adoption has been really unexpected for me. My plan was to just keep on pretending that it didn't have any affect on me. After all, I'd gotten this far without anyone knowing what I really thought. But I feel like I'm ready to learn as I go through this.

I sent an email to a few close friends this week and told them about this blog. It was nothing short of the most humbling thing I've ever done in my life. How do you tell people that you grew up with, people who have always known you, people that you spend hours with every day, people who were in your wedding, your best friends from high school and college, your husband that you're not who you appear to be? It took me a day and a half to get up the nerve to send it and I thought I was going to be sick after I did it. But, in spite of how awful it felt to get to that point, I needed to get there and even though I still feel slightly nauseous thinking about that email that I sent, I can already see how getting rid of that pride, that self-sufficient mindset is going to be way better for me in the long run.

Read A Book

2006-01-07T14:34:00.000-08:00

I definitely don't have my act together enough to even pretend that I am able to give good advice to other adoptees, however, just in the few short weeks that I've revisited this part of my life, I can tell you one thing for sure. Every adoptee should read a book that is for adoptees. Not a book that is about adoptees, one that is for them. I started with "20 Things Adoptive Kids Wish Their Adoptive Parents Knew" by Sherrie Eldridge, however, I am in the process of reading "20 Life Transforming Choices Adoptees Need To Make", also by Eldridge, and I'd suggest you read that one first.

Reading a book about adoption took me from having never had more than a 15 minute conversation with anyone about adoption to having an entire blog about adoption. I have already written and saved drafts of enough thoughts and ideas to fill my next 10 posts. And to think that a month ago, I had no idea that I even had opinions and feelings about all of this.

Reading about adoption for the first time was nothing short of exhilarating. I just finished the first two chapters of "20 Life Transforming Choices..." and it is so intense that at times I have to literally put the book down, look away from it, take a breath and calm myself down because my heart is racing so much. It's like bizarro world from Seinfeld. How on earth does Sherrie Eldridge know everything about me?...

Adoption was no big deal to me in my growing-up years. It was kind of like a door with a peephole: The only times I peeked through it were when someone asked my nationality or when I had to fill out medical forms.

I was really born! I wasn't an alien who was dropped into my adoptive parents' arms. I was a real baby who experienced a real birth from a real mother at a real time of the day. For me, that tidbit of information was like a meal to a starving woman.

Like many adoptees, I have "antennae" that can sense rejection a mile away.

We are not off in the corner having a pity party. Heavens, that's the last thing we would ever do. We present a strong facade instead. We are the perfectionists of the world. The overachievers. The outwardly successful ones.

Dang, she really does know it all. However as uneasy as it is to finally come to terms with the fact that you have these feelings, there is something really comforting about knowing that you aren't the only one, and you aren't crazy. So read a book and I bet you will be surprised what you'll learn about yourself.

Too Much To Ask?

2006-01-05T17:12:00.000-08:00

My goal for this weekend is to fill out all this stupid, crazy paperwork that I have had in a folder for 4 years and send it in. Honestly, I don't even remember how I got the forms or what information they are supposed to get me, but I'll tackle that this weekend.

I don't know why I never sent them in. Ok, that's a lie. I do know why I didn't send them in. Because the idea of actually finding my mom and her not wanting anything to do with me is really scary. Get rid of me once, fine, but I'm stupid if I let you do it twice. I don't want to be that annoying interruption to someone's life. I feel like I already did that to her once, and I'm scared to do it again.

When I look at the person I am today, I can see how a lifetime of that kind of thinking has affected my life. I absolutely hate to inconvenience anyone, I really do. It makes me really uncomfortable to ask anyone to do anything for me, so I usually just manage to find a way to do things without asking for help.

For example, when I moved away to college, I came by myself, and I didn't have anyone to help me move my stuff into my dorm room. There was a 'Welcoming Committee' that was helping freshman move in, but I remember thinking about how badly I would feel if I had to ask one of them to help me. And they were there for the sole purpose of helping! I didn't ask, and I ended up moving everything in by myself. I preferred it that way.

I hate asking for favors, I hate when people give me things, and I try to keep a running tab of everything that everyone has ever done for me so I can pay them back for their time and trouble. Sometimes I feel like I used up all my favors in my first three months. First, my birth mom was kind enough to endure 9 months of pregnancy, unmarried, and then labor and delivery. I have to hope that she was thinking of what was best for me when she left me. And to top it all off, I was adopted. I didn't have to live in the foster care system my whole life. That's a lifetime of favors, just in my first 12 weeks. How could I possibly expect anyone else to do anything more for me? Hasn't she already done enough? And now I'm going to look her up, ask her to have lunch with me and have our picture taken together? It seems like I'm asking too much, sometimes.

But, I suppose that if I'm actually going to pursue this search for my birth mom, I'm just going to have to get over it, and in the long run, it will probably be better for me if I do just get over it. All that to say, the papers will be sent out this weekend. =)

My Papers

2006-01-04T20:57:00.000-08:00

I thought I'd start with some history. I was born on December 28, 1979 in Bradford, PA to an unwed 24 year old woman who didn't know my father's last name. She left me at the hospital. I lived with a foster family for 3 months before moving to live with my parents who adopted me 6 months later.

The only thing I have to help me connect with my past are some papers, I'm sure that if you are an adoptee, you have the same thing. It is a collection of non-identifying information about your birth family including some medical history, physical appearance descriptions and various other information. I always knew these "papers" existed, and when I was in college, finally got up the nerve to ask my mom for them. I've read them a hundred times, at least. I have every word on those papers memorized. It seems dumb, but if my house was on fire, my papers are one of the first things I would want to get out with. It's like reading a fairytale, very surreal. I know there really was a 5"4' blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman of Swedish-German descent who gave me life. However, she is no more real to me than Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty.

When I read them, I feel completely engaged in the story. She "needed time to think through her feelings", "didn't know father's last name, was probably a one time deal". That one always gets me. The "one time deal". She worked at a bank. She was in the National Honor Society in high school. To me, she's still that same 24 year old in the story, even though I know that she's over 50 by now.

My papers are the only link I have to my beginning. I sometimes think about how my birth mom was probably in the room when the doctor took the notes. I wonder if she saw when he wrote that she was "giggly, but can be serious at times". I also wonder if that is why I laugh so much. I wonder what the reaction was when she told the doctor or social worker it was a "one time deal" with my father. Did he sneer at her? Give her a dirty look? Or was he compassionate and understanding? I was probably there in the room, too, which is even harder to wrap my head around. It is like immersing yourself into some sort of alternate reality. The idea that I actually lived inside of someone for 9 months seems untrue to me. Sometimes it is hard not to feel like some kind of alternate being, like you fell out of the sky and have no connection to anyone else on the planet. After all, the only way you can prove that you actually had a mother like everyone else is by some papers they gave you. And I don't even know who "they" are!

Right now, my papers are everything I have to explain my entry into the world. Over the next year, I plan to search for my birth mother. I know that I have a one in a million chance of success, but I don't think that my scars will truly finish healing until I've at least tried to find her, even if I am never successful.

welcome!

2006-01-04T20:42:00.000-08:00

Well, here it is, the first post. I don't even know where to start. I'm on a journey that goes way into my past and will probably continue far into my future and I wanted to document it and hopefully help others who might be experiencing the same thing.

One of my favorite songs is by a band called Thrice and it is called For Miles. It is the song that inspired the title of this blog, "Every Scar Is A Bridge", with the lyrics "Every scar is a bridge to someone's broken heart". I didn't realize until recently that adoption has had such a profound impact on the first 26 years of my life. Now that I am thinking about it more, a lot of things are making sense to me, and it is true that although I don't remember what happened to me, there are still scars. I hope that other adoptees will find this blog and be able to relate to my journey and realize, like I did, that adoption has a real impact on adoptees and that the feelings we have are legitimate and not uncommon.