Being adopted

I have always known that I was adopted. It was never a secret or something my parents hid from us. Quite the opposite, in fact. I had two older siblings who were also adopted, each of us three years apart. My earliest memory of knowing I was adopted came from the books my mom would read to us. If I remember correctly, one was called "The Chosen One." It talked about a baby being adopted by a family and highlighted how special the child was because they were chosen by this family. From my memory, I never struggled with the concept or idea that I was adopted. All I knew was that I had my mom and dad, and my life was good.

Growing up, people often told us how much we all looked alike or acted alike, not knowing we were adopted. Even though I heard those comments, as I grew older, the feeling of not being biologically connected became more prevalent. When I would hang out with my best friend, John, across the street, I could see how he looked like his mom and dad. I felt somewhat envious, not knowing how it felt to be biologically connected to someone. It was typically a fleeting feeling in the moment, and then I would go back to reality.

As a child, I sometimes fantasized and wondered what my biological family would be like, what their house looked like, etc. I always felt that there were siblings there too. But I never had a strong urge or desire to find them. I had a great childhood and a great family. Looking back, I realize how fortunate I was to have parents who didn't fight or get divorced like most of my friends' parents. We took family vacations and had dinner at the table every night. I had tons of aunts, uncles, and cousins who were special to me, so why did I need to find my biological family?

My adoptive mother got sick with cancer when I was 20 years old, and she passed away a year later. That was not a catalyst to make me start a search, and it would be many years later before that happened.

Fast forward 20-some years, and my older brother had also passed away, so it was now just me, my sister, and my adoptive dad. It was my sister, Traci, who started her process first to find her biological family. I can't recall why, but it got my husband thinking, and he started to push me to do the same search. The funny thing was it wasn't that difficult to do. We just printed off a form from the agency that handled my adoption and mailed it in. Prior to that, my sister, my husband, and I all did the Ancestry DNA thing. I got some hits, but nothing that led me to close biological family. Still, it was an interesting process.

I can't remember the timeline exactly, but it wasn't too long after I sent the initial paperwork that another letter came. It stated they had enough information to continue the search, and it asked for a processing fee of around $75.00. So, I filled that out and sent the money to continue the search.

My sister was the first to get a response stating they had found her mother, so I started to get a little anxious about what I might hear. The thing is, we knew very little about our biological parents. We were always told my sister's mom was younger when she had her, and mine was older when she had me. With that in mind, I knew there was a chance that she might have already passed away. My parents were 35 when they adopted me, so I just assumed she was older than that.

I waited a couple of days and then thought I would message the lady working on my case. She responded quickly, stating they had found my mom and were just waiting on the paperwork to release her personal information to me. I remember I was sitting in my office at work and felt this burst of emotion. It was disappointing that I was alone and not with my husband so I could share my excitement with people who would feel the same way. But it was still good news, and that was all that mattered to me.

In my follow-up blog, I will share my experience of getting my information from the agency and meeting my biological mother for the first time.