My heart dropped into my stomach.
I looked at my phone and the tears immediately welled up in my eyes because I knew I had found her.
Most of you know that a huge part of who I am is that I am adopted.
I can vividly remember telling the other kids in my Sunday School class that I was an extraordinary person and far more special than everyone else because my parents had CHOSEN me and everyone else just “happened”. I always knew I was adopted and honestly… while I’m a little biased… I think it was best that way! I didn’t ever have an identity crisis finding out my whole life was a lie. I will sing my parents praises forever.
But life wasn’t always easy for me.
My mom found me as a three year old sitting on our porch crying and saying over and over, “I wish I had never been born”. It hurts thinking about the various moments I’ve had like that throughout my life… because as much as my parents loved me… there was always a heartfelt confusion of, “how could someone give me up?” and “why wasn’t I wanted? What was wrong with me”.
Birthdays passed and I would occasionally wonder if the woman who gave me life ever marked the day of my birth in a special way or if she had completely forgotten about me. Little did I know.
Life continued on and I developed a deep relationship with my parents (who I can easily say are my best friends now) and I resolved to never find my Birth Mom because… what’s the point? I have everything I could ever want!
That is until I watched the movie, “Four Identical Strangers”. It moved me and left me bawling my eyes out. It’s a poignant story about adopted boys who are separated at birth and reunite later in life! It stirred in me a curiosity about who had given birth to me and what were my medical records? Was I at risk for cancer? Do I look like her?
I sat there and looked at my roommates and chatted about being adopted until one of them asked if I had ever tried to find my birth mom. I shrugged and replied no.
I had always believed it would be an intense and long process to find her because I was a private adoption and the agency had since shut down.
But with their encouragement I logged onto a website and entered the little info I knew from my parents and clicked “search”.
One profile popped up.
And my life changed forever.
“Birth mother. Looking for daughter. Born January 5th, 1993. Redhead.”
The list continued on confirming what I already knew in my heart… I had found her.
I don’t know what happened inside of me but I clicked on the link to access the phone number and texted this…
Squealing with excitement and probably a little fear, I called my parents and breathlessly shared the news. They were overjoyed because that’s what wonderful people they are.
The messages continued and the tears fell.
I had every question answered. Every fear soothed.
She revealed to me she had celebrated my birthday every single year with her friends. They cried and prayed I was happy and having a wonderful life.
I wish I could show you the effect that that has had on my heart.
That ache growing up that I wasn’t wanted was healed.
She never wanted to give me up, but because of her circumstances, she felt she couldn’t give me the life I deserved on her own and hand selected my incredible parents to raise me.
Oh praise God for her selection.
In the messages I could hear her pain as she talked about the aftermath of loosing me. We seem to be so similar in so many ways… Both emotion driven, artistic, prone to anxiety, compassionate, fashion forward. The list goes on.
I can remember being so jealous of my friends who knew exactly when they were born and having the ability to possess ultrasound pictures.
I never had that.
But now I do.
This is my story.
It’s not done yet. In fact it’s only getting started.