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.
I know WHAT was just said but it hasn’t sunk in WHO it was with…
I spent a lifetime dreaming, three weeks in suspense and here we are.
investigating. connecting dots. searching. asking questions. playing detective. a lot of this I had set out for yet it also fell into my lap.
i have written many blog posts “to her”… and as I write this one I can’t believe I know she will read it. on purpose. most importantly, I can tell her. I can call her. I can text her. I can update her.
she revealed our story to my ears. mother to daughter, daughter to mother… she opened her heart. she gave me answers. she asked her questions. I heard sadness and relief. I felt grateful and thanked her.
she loves me. she thinks about me. she misses me. she is proud of me. all of this I officially know and is no longer a segway to find peace or distraction to make sense of what I never knew.
we laughed the same laugh. we shared our strengths and weaknesses. she updated me on current life and explained her past. we both loved dolly’s and playing teacher. we both struggled with our academics. we both have wavy hair. all in 2 hours. I didn’t want to stop talking and I didn’t want to stop listening.
to know her biggest struggle was my biggest blessing. I told her, yet I can’t reiterate enough, that she changed my life. she may not believe me yet but I will help her to find the confidence to truly believe that. her decision to place set me up for success, love, strength, hope. sometimes it can be hard to see that but I am proof that that is the case.
so much i want to divulge about our conversation but i’m guarding it with my whole heart. so many hearts involved. so many eyes reading. so many emotions unfolding. reality starting to sink in.
we are both open. open to see what’s next. open to navigate this new beginning with each other.
I found her. I found my birth mother.
when I give Brooklyn my blessing to find her bio family when she is ready, like you gave us, I want to reassure her to never forget me. never forget our inside jokes, nicknames, favorite time of day to cuddle. I want her to know she can always lean on me if the road to her biological past gets bumpy, blurry or seems untouchable.
through my journey, I never want you two to feel like i’m forgetting you. that i am needing something more. nothing will ever be replaced. nothing will be lost. never forgotten.
I have never been more grateful for the life you have given me. the opportunities because of your endless love and huge hearts. the lessons I learned through trial and error and through your stories and experiences, will trickle down to my kids, biological or adopted.
mom, I want to be exactly like you. you were my best friend. I was scared as hell of you because you were so strong + independent + vocal. you were strict but loving. you were protective. you have been gone for almost 18 years, more than half my life, and I still can remember the softness of your hands and they way you wiped your mouth during meals.
dad, I look up to you. your passion to live for other people above yourself is a quality that’s inspiring. you bend over backwards for people and never expect anything in return. you know how rare that is especially these days, right? you have taught me to never give up even when all the health and emotional obstacles hit me like a ton of bricks. you have been a huge advocate when I was struggling in school and my rock when i got my heart broken for the first time. being left to raise two teens girls on your own was no easy task but you always stood tall and loved so big. the love that you have shown Brooklyn is nothing short of natural and welcoming.
no matter where this road leads me, to immediate blood or farther down the lineage, it’s because of you guys and the way you raised me that I can handle what’s ahead of me. you have taught me and prepared me for this part of my life. I will still need you; I will still want you, whether long distance over the phone or through my prayers to heaven.
you both are literally impossible to replace now and forever.
Not a product of love was recently spoken to me. although this was likely due to a generational gap, it literally caught me off guard. you know that awkward chuckle like you can’t believe what you just heard but you know you heard it but did you hear it correctly?! this conversation was over the phone with a 96 year old lawyer.
here is the context:
as I decided to start the process I knew I didn’t have much to start with. my adoption is closed and was not through an agency. I did some digging/asking around and got the name of the law firm who potentially finalized my adoption. after days of back and forth, emails, messages and waiting, I finally got a call back. the conversation was rushed, unproductive. I asked him if/how I could go about finding information. not looking for a reunion but looking for any non-identifying information. he asked if “the lady” (eyeball #1) aka my bio mom had reached out in the last 33 years and of course I replied no. he then proceeds to tell me I should just “let it be” (eye roll #2) since she hasn’t set out to look for me. I decide to ask him for direction instead of information bc I was not wishing for this conversation to continue any further. that’s when eye roll #3 happens… without really giving me any answers, he proceeds to ramble that she likely doesn’t want to be found because “let’s face it you obviously weren’t a product of love.” my jaw literally hit the floor. I know for sure I shook my head back and forth too as if I just got hit with a 2×4. I did that awkward chuckle-stumble on my words- choked-coughed reaction… excuse me. say what? i quickly tried to give him the benefit of the doubt in my head but the shock overtook. I had to end the call right there. I simply thanked him for his time and he wished me “luck with my rare disease” (eye roll #4).
In the adoption world a lot of phrases and verbiage get thrown around. some that make us want to smack our palms to our faces. some that make you actually think about the other perspective. most terms/phrases unintentionally mind-nubbing, some intentionally hurtful and some just due to lack of education or experience. this one was just…… ignorant. in my opinion.
I was a product of love because my mom chose life.
she reached out for help.
she chose adoption.
she chose my mom and dad to raise me.
she had a choice.
she made a choice.
that IS a product of love.
I AM a product of love.