homesick.

it’s been 66 days since this all started unfolding.

4 life changing meetings in 3 days.

too many feelings to count.

a roller coaster of emotions with the highest peaks and deep, plummeting slopes.

I feel joy and true love yet somber and melancholy.

i’m on cloud 9 then feel a sense of depression.

poignancy: “positive and negative emotion mixed together.” it’s the ability to clearly feel two things at once without either being diminished. an accurate reminder that perfecting describes how I have been feeling and was brought to my attention by a new cousin when she reached out to me for the first time.

but the negative emotions surprise me.

new is unfamiliar and change is scary.

i have sat down on many occasions trying to blog about my first meeting with my birth mom, my first family event with my birth father and meeting my 3 sisters, nieces and nephews.

it’s been 2 weeks since i’ve been home and i am finally able to put a word to this rollercoaster: I am homesick.

homesick is experiencing a longing for one’s home during a period of absence from it.

i yearn to be with my new family. I hear and see their family functions happening around me that I can’t be apart of but this time only because of logistics.

I have always struggled with being homesick since i’ve left new mexico 3 years ago and the first time i left in 1998. family dinners, major and minor holidays, play dates with cousins, impromptu starbucks meet ups, company to the grocery store.

homesickness lessened about 1.5 years ago. i finally found my place in arizona. my group of friends are not much different than my family. for a while i kept finding excuses to not be homesick in hopes it would make it go away. it’s never gone away.

i have always been drawn to new mexico.

i have always called new mexico my home.

it will always be my home.

i believe i will always be homesick.

be brave.

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giving it back to Him.

after discovering my adoption file was missing in march, the next step was to file for my original birth certificate. seemed like a fool proof, safe plan b. from that we’d obtain my birth mother’s name and maybe get lucky with a birth father name and begin the search for contact.

recently I discovered that my original birth certificate is also untraceable. at first, I light heartedly joked that my missing file was due to my unknown royal heritage, now I just feel like it’s a conspiracy.

I feel like I had an emotional setback today because of this missing document. it sounds and seem ridiculous when i say it out loud especially because i know my biological family and they are basically in front of me. But I have to be honest and say I was really counting on this step. hoping + praying this would allow me to move on + forward + process.

it’s as though without this “proof” there is fear that these absolutely wonderful people may not really be mine.

it’s really frustrating that this part of my identity is so hard to grasp and tangibly hold. i do understand that there is more to the story. will i ever discover it? maybe but maybe not. i’m really trying to process this. still.

I needed this.

you must know, I am forever thankful that I have already found my birth parents, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents. everyone so loving + welcoming + understanding + helpful + open + honest.

giving it back to Him.

surrendering with intention.

be brave.

today.

today is my first year celebrating MY birth mom. the fact that I got to text her today is overwhelming + unimaginable. today is bringing up very surprising emotions for me- joy, happiness, excitement, peace yet sadness, guilt.

is it hers?

is it mama L’s?

is it my own?

is it my moms?

i’ve thought about my birth mom for my whole life. I’ve thought about this celebration as a potential. here I am left with many tears and zero words.

still processing all of this.

still sifting through my thoughts + emotions.

the most common word flooding my mind:

thankful.

thankful for her decision.

thankful for my life.

thankful for this reunion.

thankful for her bravery.

thankful for her honesty.

thankful for her openness.

thankful for her story.

thankful for her.

today, I know her favorite colors are turquoise and cobalt blue.

today, I know her favorite flower are sunflowers.

today, I know her favorite food is mexican.

today, I know she has a sweet tooth verses salty taste buds.

today she knows I am thinking of her and I know she is thinking of me.

today is much more than I thought it would be.

be brave.

may fourth two thousand and eighteen.

thirty four years of not knowing who he was, what he looked like, what he loved, what he hated, if i’d ever speak to him or know his name, I sit here in front of him after knowing him for only the past 17 days. almost starring into a mirror physically yet learning about the man behind it.

we talked faith.

we talked adoption.

we talked family.

we talked childhood.

we talked similarities.

we put pieces of the past together.

we talked about the hard emotions.

we talked about the happy emotions.

we talked about honesty.

each of us in our own unique positions of the triad.

each of us processing. allowing one another to process together + on our own.

he is kind.

he is open.

he is silly.

he is honest.

he is confident.

I have known for 34 years that I was placed for adoption.

my birth mother has known about me for 34 years.

he just found out that he has another daughter. one he never ever knew about…. his first born…

that’s a lot…

and for that he is brave.

a few nights after talking to him on the phone for the first time, I dreamt that my newly found uncle dropped off his youngest daughter to me for the weekend. when I looked down at her in my dream, the baby in my arms was me.

I was reassured that an Angel was delivering His message to me that night.

the message: I found myself.

the man who reassured me of this beautiful message is my birth father; the man in front of me.

“welcome home.”

be brave.

we even squint the same 🙂

dear birth mom.

I feel a ton of pressure on my chest right now. Trying to figure out what I want to say to, what I want to ask you, my birth mom. I only ever dreamed about being able to write you. In those dreams I knew exactly what I wanted to say. I knew exactly what I wanted to tell you and show you.

I was a little girl who wanted to know where my curls (which I hated at the time) came from and if your favorite toy to play with was a dolly like mine.

I was a struggling pre-teen who just lost her mom tragically and was curious if you had ever felt such heart break at a vulnerable age.

I was a young lady trying to get through school and wondering if you had the same testing anxiety that I was dealing with.

I was engaged curious what your dream proposal was and what your ideal wedding would entail.

I was pregnant with my first child and wondering how low or high you carried your first baby and your biggest pregnancy craving (mine was Wendy’s French fries with their pump ketchup and red vines… although not in one bite.)

I was beginning to grow our family through adoption and was eager to know how you chose life and adoption for me.

I was confident in where I stood, how I felt and lately I just feel more confused and more emotionally uncertain. How do I put 34 years of questions into ONE letter, THE letter. A letter I wrote multiple times to my future child’s mama’s but this one is hugely different. The end result being beyond comparable. Still a “yes” or a “no” to conclude the journey and I am fully aware that this may be my dead end.

Where do I start? My whole life is flashing before my eyes; my brain and my heart equally want to explode into a million pieces of thoughts, emotions, tears, smiles, memories, vacations, questions.

Dear birth mom, I was such a huge baby my parents had to switch me to soy milk because I drank so much milk and would rip the nipple of the bottle as they tried taking it away each feed. I was always playing dress up, mommy, school, and dancing to Disney musicals. I won a medal for archery when I was 6ish. I made the honor roll in middle school and in middle school I was also sent to detention for saying a not so nice word bc a kid smashed a cupcake all over my backpack and the principal happened to walk by when I said it. I played right forward on a competitive soccer team but failed to tryout in high school because we moved states and I was insecure. The first time I fell in love (I thought) was when I was 14 to a boy in a band. i grew up always knowing about my adoption. My mom and dad opened the gate of communication for the get-go. I graduated Summa Cum Laude at Arizona State. I love taking pictures-especially of the ones I love most. I have been a best friend for 22 years straight (I hope, ask her). I successfully completed 9 years of counseling after loosing my mother when I was 16 and dealing with codependency. I became an aunt to twins in 2008 and my sister was my best friend my entire childhood and longer.  I met my husband in a bar and married him three years later (don’t worry I played hard to get). I found my passion as a Certified Personal trainer after a dramatic weight loss and helped change lives. I am strong and gaining independence and confidence daily. I was one of those women who thought it would take me forever to get pregnant and got knocked up on our honeymoon just 8 months after being married. I gave birth to my son at 29 weeks due to a rare autoimmune. I became completely submerged in the adoption community as I strive to help and meet adoptive parents, learn from birth mothers, and advocate for adoptees. We wanted to grow our family but I knew adoption was our next route because of you. Your choice. Your courage. The life you gave me by placing me in the arms of my mom and dad. I wanted to pay it forward. Honor women in your position the only way I knew how.

I hope this letter finds you peace + love + light and rids any pain + guilt + sadness.

be brave.

do I even really exist?

it sounds dramatic, I know. but do I? after getting court order approved to unseal my file from archives I discovered my file is missing.

yup.

gone.

missing.

untraceable.

no where to be found.

the first question that comes to mind is how in the world can this happen? my second question was “is this common?” I have always labeled my life events as uncommon. not typical. not normal. from adoption to house burning down to witnessing and experiencing my mothers death to premature labor of my son to diagnosis of rare autoimmune to our failed match etc. (all while leaving out other large and small details). not sure why I was so surprised that this was yet another part of my journey that had an “uncommon hiccup”.

I have to be honest, this STUNG. it brought me to fear. it brought me to regret. it brought me to my knees. it brought me to tears. I have never felt like I didn’t belong until now. I have never felt empty until now. I had no idea this was a thing. Going into this I thought my “worse case scenario” was that I would get a basic file and no reunion. the reality is I could walk away from all of this with nothing. no information and no way of getting information.

all of this has left me so confused. mainly because from the beginning I haven’t been able to answer the common asked question, “why now? why are you searching now?” so currently I feel like “ya, why did I!?; why now?”

what I find most bizarre is most my childhood/adult life, I have always told people (including myself) that my adoption was so closed it was basically like my file did not exist… ironic huh? I wasn’t sure how to explain “closed adoption” especially with zero information regarding my adoption. since my adoption didn’t take place through an agency I thought my options were very more limited. I found this to be the best way (or potential excuse) to admit that I couldn’t (didn’t want) acquire information. I put those terms in parentheses because these are unexpected emotions that are coming up during this process that I am currently trying to work through even on paper.

A missing file doesn’t mean the journey is over. thankfully we have a plan b. I am so happy and relieved (still terrified and a tiny bit pessimistic) this isn’t the end. as much as I want to stop at times, I am not one to give up.

plus, its hard to give up when I have such an amazing support system rallying behind me. encouraging me to be encouraged. pushing me to keep moving forward aside from this bump in the road. reminding me that this is just one more piece of my puzzle. my tribe is validating that it is okay to be SAD; to be discouraged. we are recognizing that this is a unique journey. the unknown is scary. But turning around is not an option.

I do exist.

I do have history.

I am loved.

be brave.

“courage is the commitment to begin without the guarantee of success.”

nobody loves like a mom.

I hear that there is a difference between Mothers Day and Birth Mothers Day. I remember seeing posts flood my feeds last year as we were a waiting family. I love that the community finds ways to celebrate in a unique way. But is there a need to have separate holidays? you deserve to be celebrated and that’s what matters.

you ARE a mother.

i remember trying to picture who our birth mom would be especially after “meeting” so many birth mothers on paper. I tried to envision what our relationship would look like during the pregnancy and after placement. who would we get to celebrate on year later on this day?

we get to celebrate you! Mama L.

we don’t have any pictures of you; just the ones in my head.

we don’t have any of you seeing brooklyn for the first time; just in my head.

we don’t have any of you holding sweet bk; just in my head.

we don’t have any of all 5 of us saying goodbye on the hospital; just in my head.

I will not forget the tiny details of the day you placed her in my arms. i will not forget the details of how our story unfolded. I will not forget the details of your story and now her story.

today is your day.

today we are thinking of you more.

talking about you.

praying for you extra hard.

because of you, I get to share our daughters NINE MONTH milestone + on mothers day + for the first time as a mother of TWO.

thank you.

‘thank you’ doesn’t cut it.

‘thank you’ doesn’t solidify it.

‘thank you doesn’t make it more or less real.

but ‘thank you.’

forever thankful.

daily.

** happy mother’s day to my birth mom. the one i do not know. the one i’ve never seen. you are loved.** 

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