T-Minus 5 days and Counting

After numerous edits, deletes, and re-writes, I'm glad I got my last post up.  I've been somewhat guilt ridden about my excitement over meeting Kenny.  The heck with it, he said to use his name, so be it. Ken it is.  You can see how much I embellished it for my blog!  ;)   He gave me permission to share a photo of him and his lovely wife that was taken two days ago. Our correspondence has been frequent and I can't believe I get to meet the kind and wonderful man in less than a week.  I made that fateful call on April 29th, praying that I was reaching out to the right man.  Prayers answered and I HUGE thank you to my little equestrian search angel!  So, in less than a month I feel like I know this man already.

Next week, Ken is driving from Florida to Virginia on Wednesday, and from VA to NJ on Friday.  We'll have a quiet couple of hours to say hello, before he passes out after another long drive... Saturday he's game and ready to meet my family.... and my friends... and all the barn folks that are just as much family as they are friends.  I think I have about 40 people coming to the farm for a traditional Pleasant Meadow BBQ!!!! Can you say overwhelmed??  I bet Ken can, and will next Saturday.  We're going to give him a big 'ole welcome to my crazy life!  I hope he's ready.  He said to "Bring it On" and so I shall!!!! (NOT SO) little OLD me gets to spend one quiet evening getting to know him before chaos ensues. Ken will also be able to meet my "Search Angel" and her amazing husband. What an exciting time!!!

Ok, ok, back to work - the fields aren't going to mow themselves!

A moment to reflect

It's still hard to believe that only two months have past since I made first contact with Jenny. When I think back to why I started this journey (again) my number one goal was clear.  Most importantly I wanted to find and thank the individuals that conceived me.  The guilt that I imagined they carried for decades is a large part what drove me.  An innate curiosity is a close second.  Who doesn't want to know where they're from, don't we all love hearing stories of how our parents met, who their relatives are, what their ambitions were, and what they did with them.  I know, in a way it sounds selfish, that idle curiosity is my number two motivating factor.  Yes, medical history was a substantial part of my inquiry.

I must tell you how satisfying it was to talk (via email) to Jenny and learn that she always believed that I would be full of loathing and hate towards her.  Knowing that finding her and thanking her, lightened her emotional burden, made me feel good, really good.  That's really what it was all about.

Now that contact has been made, and my goal met, I find myself in uncharted territory.  There is no question, that I hoped more than genetic information would be shared, but my hopes and expectations were guarded.  I grew up in a loving, stable environment; I wasn't looking to "fix" something from my childhood.  I have wonderful parents, incredible kids, a loving husband and amazing relatives.

So, I find myself asking WHY.  Why am I so very excited to meet this complete stranger?  That role was filled 42 years ago, but a most generous soul.  I love my Dad to pieces. I keep restraining myself, as it feels like I'm cheating on him, by being so excited.  The answer is simple.  He WOULD have been my father under different circumstances.  So, what is one to do?  How do I deal with this conundrum?  How do I reach out and embrace one, without hurting the other.  What would you do?   How would you handle this?   Perhaps I should reach out to my sister-in-law, as a Psychologist, she might have some insight how to deal with this.  After giving it some thought, I know what I'll do. The same thing I always try to do; I'll follow my heart and be open, honest, and hope everyone understands.  It's a simple answer, and that's truly how I like things, simple and uncomplicated.

It just keeps getting better every day!

Wow.... Everyone is on the same page.  My anxiety over Jenny reading my blog was palpable, and I had no idea what would happen once she did. Well, I just received an email with a virtual thumbs up.  Insert image of hand swiping across forehead with relief.

I understand how private her life has been, and knowing how close I came to going beyond using this blog as a catalyst to find her, knowing that I would have gone on national TV in my attempt to locate her, must have given her heart palpitations.   All is well, and I can let out a huge sigh of relief.

Now, on to the party!  Yes, party.  Kenny is willing to be thrown into everything "Pleasant Meadow" style.  My farm, my life, my family and friends.  The Evite went out to close friends and family and responses are pouring in with many YES's!  Unfortunately, my parents will be getting back from their "bucket list" trip to Italy the night of the party and won't be able to join us.  I'm hoping that we'll have a quiet brunch together the next morning before Kenny and his family head back to Virginia for an extended visit with more family.

I'm still pinching myself.

:)

The Journey

This poem was sent to me by a very special person.  Although I don't believe it was written about some in the exact same situation as me, it really does have common threads that match my emotions and motivation.  I really love this poem, as well as it's sender.  Thank you for understanding.

The Journey By Mary Oliver One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice— though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. "Mend my life!" each voice cried. But you didn't stop. You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried with its stiff fingers at the very foundations, though their melancholy was terrible. It was already late enough, and a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones. But little by little, as you left their voices behind, the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own, that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world, determined to do the only thing you could do— determined to save the only life you could save.

Planning, a poem and a picture.

I still can't believe I'm planning to meet both birth parents. This journey is a gift that keeps giving.  I started this search in hopes of being able to follow breadcrumbs in order to filling in missing pieces to my genetic history.  I hoped to be able to thank both Jenny and Kenny and to let them know the parents I grew up with did a darned good job.  My shortcomings are my own, as they always tried to lead me down the right path and give me every opportunity to succeed.

Joy overwhelms me.  To be able to fill in all the missing pieces is an incredible reward.  To be able to thank them in person, is other worldly.  There is no bitterness, just gratefulness.

Kenny sent me two huge boxes via UPS on Tuesday.  He called and said to me "You want history, now you've got it!"  I have family photo albums, personal journals, albums of Kenny's father stationed in Hawaii... It took me almost 5 hours to sit and look the contents of the boxes.  So many of the photos had notes written on them, to make connections easier as to who I was looking at.  How many hours did Kenny spend writing on these old withered photos.  Many, I'm sure is the answer.  What a kind and generous man!  He gave me permission to whatever I'd like with them, and that includes sharing them here.

I have Kenny's baby book from when he was an infant, with his family tree neatly penned in.  Along with notes about doctors appointments, relatives relationship status, etc.  This treasure trove of documents will be closely guarded as their sole genetic benefactor.  Neither Kenny nor his sister ever had children (except for me that is).  

 Kenny also gave me permission to add his photo here as well.  How could I resist sharing the handsome young lad's smiling face, with a starry eyed expression in it.  Can you see warmth and kindness in those eyes?  I can.

Back to the planning.  This tidal wave of a loving man is making his way to New Jersey at the end of THIS MONTH for a visit.  His lovely wife, and stepdaughter along with her husband is making the journey north too!  I can't believe, that exactly one month after I finally got the courage up to call Kenny, I GET TO MEET HIM!!!!  I'm sure you know, I'm a text-a-holic.  I text more than I talk.  Luckily, Kenny with his IPhone is pretty good about replying and sending photos.  I've had so much fun getting to know him, through numerous phone calls, endless emails, and a ton of text messages!  It's been 1 week and 4 days, and I feel like we're really getting to know each other all ready.  How lucky are we!

My post is titled "Planning, a poem and a picture"..  I think the very special poem deserves its own post.  So, one more post for today..

PS - Kenny - Wishing you all the luck in the world today at Gainsville Raceway - KICK BUTT!!!!

Surprise Surprise

I knew Kenny's parents.  I was young, but I do remember them vaguely.  My parents were friends with his parents.  How's that for a development?  My father was part of the same Rotary group that Kenny's father was involved in.  They both served terms as presidents, and were pretty good friends.  All the Rotary Christmas Parties, all the group trips Hershey or the Poconos... WE spent time together!  No one knew about the link they shared... Me.  Will photos reveal all of us together?  I can't wait to find out.

What can I say?  It sure is a small world.  I prefer not to dwell on the past. So, I'll let this revelation be what it is.  It's a piece of our history. Unfortunately, both Kenny's parents are deceased, so there's no sharing this little surprise with them. What other little coincidences will unravel as the story unfolds?  Right now I'm simply floored.

PS - Kenny, thanks for sharing your impetuous nature with me!  I can't believe you were ready to hop on a plane and surprise me, knowing that I was home for 24 hours before heading out of town again... Yup.  Floored.  I too, very much look forward to meeting you!!!!  We do seem to have so much in common! Need for speed, adrenaline junkie.... You with a couple hundred horses, me, with one.  End result is the same!
You:
http://behindthescenez.photoreflect.com/store/Orderpage.aspx?pi=0UKP002P000269&po=269&pc=397

Me:

Open, Honest and Eternally Hopeful

A spectrum of colors

This journey has taken me through a rainbow of colors and emotions and back again.  I think it's time to give the individuals that brought me into this world real names (of my choosing).  I don't feel comfortable using labels, nor their first names, as they are so much more to me.  They're real people, people I'm getting to know with a link to my genetic history.  They both have unique and interesting stories that they're willing to share with me.  I know how lucky I am.  Let's call them Jenny and Kenny.

I know how hard it is for my parents to share this journey with me, but it's meant more to me than anything.  They have been there for me from the first sleepless night as an infant to being the best Grandparents my children could ask for.  Daily communication has kept us a strong family unit and I need them.  Every day.  Their warmth, love and understanding has always kept me strong.  Right now, they are happy for me that I am happy.  I know they feel a slight trepidation now as they worry about the future and how these new relationships will affect us as a family.  I really hope they know in their hearts that their roles will never change.  They will always always go be the moniker's Mom and Dad as well as Grammy and PopPop. 

Jenny and Kenny have their ancient history together.  The directions they chose and the decisions they made defined them.  What young adult gives thought to how their actions as a teenager will affect them and those around them for the rest of their lives.  I believe it was much more difficult for young women to deal with the repercussions of their decisions as the stigma of having a child out of wedlock would follow them forever.  Maybe not though, how hard would it be to not have any choice at all?  To not be part of the decision making.  I would imagine that would leave lifelong scars as well. The pain my adoption caused each of them followed them throughout their lives in different ways, of that I am sure.  

I've read numerous books on reunion and each story is unique, but there are similar threads that run through each of them.  No one gets to walk away unharmed. All involved are affected, and there's no expiration date on the raw emotions that are attached to adoption.  It doesn't matter who you are, or what decisions you make.  Everyone has issues to deal with relating to the adoption, and if you're lucky, at some point you'll find happiness and some sort of closure.  

I hope I get to spend the rest of my life learning from everyone involved in my adoption.  The journey is unending, and more decisions will be made in the months and years to come that will obviously affect the direction this pilgrimage takes.  So far, we're all on the same page.  We'll sort through it all, openly and honestly.  I think that's a pretty good place to start.

Ah, and I can't wait to see what mysteries will unravel themselves in the "NOT so little" box that will arrive on my doorstep soon!

Who would have thought.....

Yesterday my husband and I had lunch at a lovely old pub right next door to the hotel we're staying at in Chicago.  Miller's Pub.

 

After lunch, Marco got a call from his father asking if their conference bags were switched, as he couldn't find his wallet.  So, back to the hotel my husband goes to check the bag.  Me, I sat at the bar.... So with a few minutes to entertain myself, I had the brilliant idea of giving a call to the first gentleman that was on my short list of potential birth dad's.  This is not the first time I've picked up the phone to make this call.. It's just the first time that I waited long enough for someone to answer.

A woman answers the phone, and I ask to speak to Mr. C.  She hands the phone to him, and with a lump in my throat, I ask him two very important questions.  Number 1 - Did he live in NJ in the late 60's/early 70's and Number 2 - Did he happen to date a young lady named - J.  Yes.  Yes, was the answer to both questions.  In unison we both broke out in tears.  There I was, sitting in a crowded bar, and I'm crying like a baby.  This stranger is so thrilled to hear from me, I'm floored.  He yells out to his wife that he's talking to his "daughter" and we both start sobbing again.  Our conversation didn't last long, as I had moved out into the cold and windy vestibule to at the very least hide my tears.  Unfortunately, it was equally hard to hear him in the vestibule as it was in the restaurant.  He took my number and email address and promised to call me when I got home on Wednesday night....

Sleep last night was in fits, and I kept my husband awake most of the night as I tossed and turned.  This morning, as we're sitting at down for breakfast, an email comes in from him.  I must say, there was NO WAY I was going to be able to make it until Wednesday night to talk to him again.  I had every intention of calling him after breakfast to get his email address. He reached out to me first.  More tears were shed at the table over my delicious eggs benedict.  It wasn't a long email, but long enough for him to share that he too, is going to have a hard time waiting until Wednesday night before we speak again. 

Life is sweet.  Having faith, and following your heart is always worth it.  I'm so glad I got up the courage to call again.  I did make the same call a few weeks ago, but hung up when the answering machine came on... What kind of message could I leave?  I'm still in shock.  It's beyond exciting to have so many missing pieces fall into place.  The mystery of my history is slowly unraveling, and the journey has been an amazing roller coaster ride with highs and lows.  

As always,

Open, Honest and Eternally Hopeful!

Almost two months have passed....

It's hard to believe it's been less than two months since I started my journey.  I feel that if I don't put some thoughts in my blog, I'll loose it forever.  So much has happened over the last two months.  I'm adding another post for my own sake.  This will not be shared with the general public, but I will publish it when I'm done typing.  The last post I wrote is from a few weeks ago, but I couldn't bring myself to publish it. Today, I will. Honestly, I was afraid to.  Out of respect to BMom's privacy, I didn't want to put anything else out into cyber space.

Here I am though, typing away, and although I will hit the publish button, there is only one person I will actively share it with.  I hope this makes sense.  I'm going to share my blog with my birth mother, and I can't imagine what she's going to think of it.  When I first started my blog, I shared it with her brother, and asked him to share it with her.  After weeks had passed, and there was no mention of it, I assumed that she had not seen it, and I wasn't sure how to bring it up.  My heart is in my throat as I type. As my journey has been to be honest and open, sharing this blog, which is now a part of me; is important, in my mind, to share with her.

I hope she forgives me for being so public about my search.  I really don't think that I would have found her otherwise, and not finding her after all these years wasn't an option.  We have shared a number of emails, and the fear that she might stop talking to me after reading this gives me MAJOR pause.  I'm so fortunate to have an open dialog with her, I don't want it to end.  I know she bears this burden alone, and it makes my heart heavy thinking about it.  Selfishly, I keep emailing with more stories, and tough questions.  For every response I get, I know how much pain and angst I've asked her to deal with.  I knew she had to be a strong woman, and she proves that to me regularly.  Thank you, and it means the world to me.

Will you speak to me after reading this?  As I said, I asked your brother to share it with you before we even made contact. I've hesitated to ask you if you'd read it, until a couple of days ago.  Oh the fear, and the angst and the pain - for both sides.  I hope you feel the same joy that I do, as we slowly and tentatively share more about ourselves. Regardless of how hard this has been, I hope we get to continue to learn more about each other and can spend the next 40 years getting to know one another.

Here are the titles of a few reunion stories that have helped me to better understand what a number of birthmothers went through.  It's so inspiring to read their stories of joy and struggle.

1.  The Other Mother, by Carol Schaefer (my personal favorite so far)
2. Second-Chance Mother, by Denise Roessle
3. On the Other Side of Shame, by Joanne Jowell
4. The Secret Adopion, by Thomas F. Liotti (current read)

I will finish this entry with another thank you to MaryAnn for all your loving support.  I LOVE YOU and ALWAYS WILL!

With Love,
Honest, Open and Eternally Grateful

Hello Stranger

Hello Stranger,

I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Joanne Racaniello Pelosi.  You don't know me, and perhaps never will.  Despite the fact that we are complete strangers, I am hereby pleading with you to help me.  We have a mutual friend; acquaintance might be more fitting.  Actually, I've never met her, but we share something very intimate in common.  She is my birth mother.

Ok, I'll give you a minute, better yetl, take all the time you need to process this shocking information.  This woman that I have recently reached out to, a stranger to me, is the same person that I have been actively searching for for over 20 years.  I know we had at least one brief moment together.  It was 42 years ago when we were separated.  She was young and naive, and didn't have a support group to rely on.  On June 26, 1971 she gave me a gift.  It was a most selfless gift, and I imagine it was probably one of the most difficult things she's ever had to do.  She gave me away.  I believe it was her hope that the family that intended to raise me would do a better job than a young woman on her own could have done.  Can you imagine how painful this decision was?  With other, easier options, she chose to give me the gift of life, followed by another precious gift, the gift of a stable family that would love me unconditionally, and provide me with the life that she could not at the time.

Think back, and remember how young women were viewed who had children out of wedlock.  They were looked down upon like lepers.  To carry me close to her heart and part ways with me must have been devastating.  How could she know, that burying the secret of my birth would haunt her forever.  She trusted the guidance provided by her family, doctors and lawyers.  Try to forget about her and move on, they said. She will have a better life, and you too, can start over.  Become the person you want to be without the stigma of what you've done.  Move on.  Can you blame her?  How does one move on after that?  I don't know if I would have had the strength and courage to do what she did.

You know her.  You've known her for many, many years.  Can you imagine the pain she's felt?  How does one come clean after years of trying to forget?  To pretend like it happened to someone else?

Now, here I am, in her face. Making her relive what was long ago forgotten.  I feel for her.  I have been searching and praying for many years that one day, I would be able to thank her for making the difficult decision to let me go, and to let her know I'm alright.  I've been very fortunate.  I have had and still enjoy my loving supportive family, and now have some closure. I recently had the opportunity to send her an email, and pour my heart into it.  There are still puzzle pieces missing, and hopefully they too will be filled in soon.

Can you do a complete stranger a favor and wrap your arms around the amazing woman you married and tell her everything is going to be OK.  Don't ask her to share more than she's willing or able.  She's fragile right now, and I know she needs you, and your family's support.  Please give some thought to what she went thorough all those years ago and what she's going through right now.  I'm sure she feels like she was in a car accident.  There was no warning, just the hard impact one feels when being broadsided at high speed.  Please give her a hug, hold her tight and give her your support.

I'll be here waiting,  and hoping, that one day you and your family will understand that what she went through all those years ago.  Her history is part of what has made her into the loving wife, caring mother, and super grandmother that I imagine she must be.

Now breathe!

Solitaire

How funny is it, that when I think about Monday morning and my very first conversation with birth mom, what I find most interesting is that on multiple occasions we were doing the exact same thing at the exact same moment.  I wonder how often that has happened over the years.  Not just physical acts, but were similar thoughts going through our heads about each other at the same time? Who's to know. It's undeniable that there is a connection there. 

On Monday morning as I was waiting for the appropriate half hour to chime, I was playing Solitaire the last few minutes before we spoke.  Guess who else was playing?  Yup, she was playing too.  I've been writing quite a bit over the last couple of days. Luckily, my target audience has been found.  It's a party of one, and the next chapters will be written by the two of us.

Please wish us luck!

Keep breathing....

Another exciting day at the farm has come to a close, and a beautiful sunrise is on the horizon.  We had a two day clinic and the barn was abuzz with excitement.  All the while, I kept checking my email and cell phone for messages.  Maybe it would come from Uncle, maybe from B-Mom.  Delivery confirmed...  There's an email - from HER!

I wasn't truly expecting to hear anything until this morning, luckily, Christmas came early and I didn't have to wait another minute.  Every hour has felt like an eternity this past week.  Today is a new day, and my fingers were tired after my obsessive checking.  A dialog has begun and some old questions have already been answered.  The puzzle pieces start falling into place.

Most importantly, I was able to email her back and tell her the one thing that I had always hoped to share... Thank you.  Thank you for not aborting me. Thank you for making the difficult decision to carry me to term, suffer through child birth and watch me in silence as I was taken away.   You were strong, you were brave and I am and will always be - Thankful.  That's all I ever wanted to share.  I hoped that one day I could relieve the burden of guilt I assume she must have felt.  What woman wouldn't wonder, are they happy, are they crying, is someone holding them at night when the ghosts and goblins pop out from under the bed?  Who's tending that scraped knee, or consoling her when her heart is broken for the first time?  Rest assured, the job was not taken lightly, and to this day the couple that brought me home still worries about me, and cares about every bump and scrape (both the emotional as well as physical ones - I do live on a horse farm - the job does have its hazards).

I hope knowing that I was loved gives her peace.  Starting this blog has truly helped me emotionally.  Writing down my thoughts and feelings has most definitely helped the healing process begin.  I wish my memory was better, but I'm glad I'll have my blog to remind me to always keep my chin up and have faith.  Jokingly, I tell myself it feels like I've come to the end of Chapter one.  I can't wait for Chapter two.  After a couple of back and forth emails, and a phone call on the horizon this morning, more questions will be answered, openly and honestly.  Without this blog, I wouldn't have the numerous private messages from others sharing their stories.  I was touched by the outpouring of support and honesty that was shared with me.  It is so important to have a support group when you're riding on an emotional roller coaster.   I hope putting myself out there has inspired others.  Please know, that I'm right there with you, and happy to help you in your search too.  Whether it be spending hours on the internet searching, or just sharing kind words of support.  I know how much they mean. When you're struggling to keep faith, and need to be reminded to keep breathing.

Raw

 I need a pick me up this morning.  Hence, the photo of my pip squeaks a few years ago. Let me apologize in advance for any spelling or grammatical errors, as I have an exciting weekend at the farm planned and re-reading what I'm writing, just isn't happening this morning.  I'm hosting a clinic with someone I've idolized since childhood.  I'm having Kim Walnes http://thewayofthehorse.com/ here for two days.  If you like horses and you haven't seen the inspiring movie Sylvester http://www.videodetective.com/movies/sylvester/509 you HAVE to see it... Seriously inspiring, and thinking about having Kim Walnes who is the inspiration for this movie (and rider in all those crazy jumping scenes) is going to be here in two hours, I better type fast.  (PS - Robin, I wish you were here with me this weekend)  

So, I'll quickly fill you in...

One word sums up how I fee right now.  Raw.  I feel compelled to share yesterday's journey, as everyone has been so incredibly supportive. I'll give you a small snippet, and will quickly share more positive highlights.  I kept the phone in my hand or pocket ALL day.  I didn't shower until 7:00 pm with the fear that the phone would ring, and missing the all important call was not going to happen.  Naturally, every time the phone rang, or text message came through, my breath caught in my throat and a quick prayer rattled through my brain.  Would you put money on a call coming through as soon as I tipped my head under the scorching hot water?  It did.  Was it the call I was hoping for?  It was not.  For family members I promised to call yesterday, I wanted to wait to share more good news, and by the end of the day, it just hurt too much. I'm sorry and I love you.

Uncle did send me a few emails early last evening with a couple of photos of B-Mom as a youngster.  Thank you Uncle Jack, I know you're trying, and it means so much to me.  From the emails it was vague as to whether he had spoken to BMom or not.  But in the email he assured me that he could fill me in on family history as well as B-Mom could. I'm sure he can.  Unfortunately, there are many more questions that only one person can answer.  Right now, I'm not sure if that will happen.  After a few emails, as my husband and I were preparing dinner a call came it.  By this point, I had thrown in the towel for the night, and didn't care anymore.  I wasn't answering the phone.  I had the impression that her life went on without me, and it sounded like I had been swept under the carpet and forgotten.  That is how it felt, and it hurt.  This was a completely unexpected scenario to me.  Yes, I knew it was possible, that she could have married and started a new family and never shared my identity.  I wouldn't want to call it a dirty little secret, but, you know.  It WAS towards the end of an era, where young ladies were sent away to the nuns or special homes where they had their babies and came home from "their extended family vacation" with no one being the wiser.

I'm leaving my story for a while and moving on for now. 

Let me tell you what happened with my sister yesterday.... You all know that the discovery that her birth mother was dead left her hollow.  No closure there.  An eternal mystery.  Unfortunately, her mother was married a lot.  Let me rephrase that. She was married & re-married a number of times.  The exact number is not known.  She was married a minimum of 6 and a maximum of 10 times, and not sure if she was faithful even in the beginning.  Yes, my wonderful sister assured me that she was OK with me sharing her story too.  That being said, with no mother to have a teary eyed reunion with, she decided to pursue Dad.  At least the guy she was married to at the time.  They were married a year before my sister's mother got pregnant and she left him 5 months into her pregnancy.

Yet again, our AMAZING little search angels on Facebook found him.  Sis had a name to go on, and an hour later she had a number.  Now, she's frozen with fear.  Is it the right guy, is he going to reject me?  All the crazy ideas that roll around your head, and she just couldn't make the call.  She texted me, telling me her angel offered to make the call for her.   I begged her, that if she couldn't do it, to please allow me to plead her case.  Of course, she acquiesced, and I promised to make the call immediately.  Oh shit, now what?  What if I say the wrong thing and scare him off.  Crap, it's all on me now.  OK, ok, just take a deep breath yet again today and pick up the damn phone and do it. I guess I'd have to figure it out as I went along.  Two phone numbers to choose from... let's see.  First number, just when I'm about to hang up, a young lady answers and assures me that there is no one living there by that name.  Okey dokey, let's dial again. Ring, ring, riiiing.  GOT HIM!  I first asked him to confirm his name,. I then asked if he had been married to "Mrs. XYZ".  Oh, he sure was married to her, for almost two years.  Flood gates opened, and he openly and honestly shared EVERYTHING.  Wow.  After a half an hour conversation with him, I couldn't wait to call my sister, who I knew was pacing a hole in the floor waiting to hear from me and tell her - I just hung up with her birth father and HE COULDN'T WAIT TO HEAR FROM HER!!!!  How cool is that?  Despite everything he went through with my sister's mother, he couldn't wait to hear from her.  He's only seen her once since she was born, and she was one year old at the time. After that visit, her mother took her and disappeared into the sunset.  Holy reunion.  YAY Christi!!!!  Love ya Sis!!!!!  He sounds like such a kind soul.

As for me, I'm still ending this morning's blog....

Open, Honest and Eternally Hopeful

Twenty three hours and counting... Suns up and it's time to get to work.

Now I sit, wait, and twiddle my thumbs.  I get it.  Oh, do I get it. Over 40 years go by with absolute silence.  It's more than a shock. I too, would need time to process, digest and figure out what to do next.  I can wait.  Really, I can.  Can I, really?  My stomach is in knots, I hit the refresh button on my Aol account every couple of minutes.  I have faith.  I know I'll hear something.  Uncle "Jack" assured me, that he would get back to me, and I know he will.  I haven't met him, but I know he's a good man, and I trust that he's a man of his word.

Naturally, I hope I'll hear from birth mom too, but I can wait.  It's worth the wait, 42 years, what's another day or two?  Even when every second feels like an eternity. What I should be doing is shoveling poo.  I know I told you already, but it's what centers me.  Cleaning house, I hate (sorry honey), cleaning my barn I love.  I know I am so very far from the perfect mother, or wife, but I try.  Oh, do I try.  I forget birthdays (I can't tell you how many times I've bought cards and forgotten to mail them - a bag full of good intentions - my follow through sometimes sucks).  Unconditionally though, I love my family, and I thank God every day for the gifts he's bestowed upon me. Yeah, yeah, happy happy, lucky lucky.  Believe me, there have been highs and lows, but I try to always stay optimistic. Here's another confession - I don't go to church often but I pray daily; despite my Catholic guilt frequently poking me in the ribs, I hope I'm doing right by my kids.  I try to teach them to love others as they should love themselves, always think of how their actions will affect those around them. Be a good friend, always listen, be honest, and do your best at what ever it is you try.  My mother and father, in my mind are still is as close to the ideal parents as one could hope.  Never did they complain about the many, many hours spent behind the wheel chauffeuring me and little sis to dance class, art class, riding lessons, 4-H, gymnastics, soccer, softball, cheerleading (lil' sis, not me), sleepovers, CCD, girl scouts and endless play dates.  Their lives revolved around us, and I will always be grateful for every thing they have done and continue to do to support us.  I love you Mom, and Dad!  XOXOXOXOXO

Alright, we've reached the 24 hour mark from first contact, and it's time.  Time to go back out to the barn, and start shoveling away.  I'll let you know what and when I hear something. Tick tock, tick tock.  Keep those prayers coming. I'm sure each one has helped me along my journey.

Ahh, one more tidbit of information I almost forgot to share.... One of the casting directors from Long Lost Family called me yesterday afternoon and wanted to Skype an interview with me (today).  I shared with her how much has transpired in the last 24 hours and how much I hope to hear from birth mom in the next few days.  If birth mom decides she doesn't want to re-connect for what ever reason, I will respect her decision. Hopefully, a relationship with Uncle Jack will help fill in some of the holes.  Photos old and new have been requested.

Hold on, let me hit refresh again... Nope, nothing yet.

As Always,
Open, Honest and Eternally Hopeful

42 years and 24 hours - (give or take a few months)

How is it possible that only a day has passed since I posted my plea for help in finding my birth mother on Facebook?  Really,just 24 hours?  It is truly amazing how kind and generous people really are.  I'm not talking just about those dear old friends that you know have your back no matter what.  I'm also talking about friends you haven't heard from since high school.  WOW, it's crazy how many of you sent me private messages or called with suggestions.  I LOVE YOU :)  Did I mention the good number of absolute strangers that spent half the night on the computer with me?  I had little Instant Message blobs, beeping and bleeping all over my Facebook page.  Wayyy after 2:00 am you were there with me, not just helping, but holding my virtual hand.  I.Am.Truly.Humbled.

So here's a recap of how my night and early morning went (yes, yes, the ponies, kids, chickens, cats, dog and sweet sweet hubby all received the attention they deserved at the appropriate times).  Let me see, I think it will be best to put the evenings events down in somewhat chronological order (if my fuzzy brain can keep them straight).

1. A random and complete stranger, aptly dubbed "a Search Angel"  found BMom's name.  Well, at least what I was praying was her name. First, Middle, and Last.  Ok, so the spelling was different from what I thought it was, the year was off, by one, and the school was a regional school.  So, really, didn't that sound like a close enough fit?  Problem is, with the year off and another woman by the same name that fit the supposed year, neither of us were sure of location) passed away at age 30.  Hell no.  Not my birth mother.  No doubt I'm writing her right off the list and sticking with the off birthday, off spelling, but right area.  Shoot. I forgot to mention my Search Angel searched the same year book that I KNOW I perused through months before and couldn't find her.  I guess I didn't look hard enough. She searched through every page of probably more than a couple of on-line yearbooks and found her.  Ohhh yeah, it HAD to be her.

2.  Armed with a name, a couple of quotation marks, and a Google search box the next part was much easier.  First, middle and last came up with an obituary.  Oh geez.  Really, I plug in her name and get an Obit.  Again, not acceptable. Shut the front door.  She's mentioned in it, but the obit is for her father.  Why you might ask is her father's obituary from 1997 a bread crumb worth pursing?  I'll tell you why.  That short obituary also mentioned her BROTHER's name!!!!!

3.  So, a Google search of her name brought up the single obituary for her father which also mentioned her having a brother.  Back to Google we go.  Better still, how about that little angel that you know from the horse world who's REALLY good at finding people who don't want to be found?  Just like that, another little angel sends me the phone number and address of her BROTHER!!!  Who doesn't love a little horsey friend angel?  I know I do - X0X0X0X0!  There were many more incredible offers of help, but this was the small trail that led me to this morning's phone call.  As I don't think it would have been well received after midnight.

4.  Let's fast forward to this morning.  I was still concerned that I might not have the right person. I closely watched the clock and waited for the seconds to tick by until I felt sure I wouldn't be waking anyone up.  Of course, that being said, I was also running the risk of said brother to have run off to work, left the house to run errands, or any other multitude of things that would put him out of hearing distance of his ringing landline phone.  All right, deep breath, and dial the damn number.  Ring one, ring two, ring... "Uhhh, hello?  Ummm, yeah, this is... Aaaaa.  Where do I begin?"  So much for the well prepared speech that rolled around in my head, there was nothing but a road block in my mouth when I tried to explain who I was, or why I was calling.  "So, you are John XYZ"  "Ahh, did you happen to live in NJ?" "Great, do you have a sister named Janet?"  "You do?", "OK, so let me tell you who I am and who I think I might be to you".  Well, I said something along those lines.  My brain and tongue were jello.  Not very cooperative.... At all. 

5. It was such a pleasure to speak to this man, with the deep throaty voice, and warm, slightly southern drawl.  I still can't believe how open and honest he was with me.  He shared everything he could think I'd want to hear.  I told him that having children, was a huge part of my desperate search to find my birth mother.  That paired with the horror story of my younger sister's birth mothers tragic ending.  So, we ended our conversation with me giving him my contact information and asking him to share it with his sister.  I did NOT ask where in NJ she lived, and held back from asking the 1001 questions that were rolling around in my head.  I want this to be in her hands.  I don't know if she ever told her family about me, or if I'm just ancient history in her mind.  Honestly though.  I can't imagine, or I choose not to imagine that she hasn't thought about me at least half as often as I've thought about her over the years.  For me, yeah.. it's been pretty much every day.

6.  So, now I wait.  My, umm, uhhh, Uncle, has my phone number and both my email addresses.  He called back later this morning to confirm my email address as the one he used bounced back.  So, I sit and pray and hope.  Again, I am eternally grateful to to everyone who's been there for me, sharing encouraging words of hope, saying a few extra prayers, and using their special powers to help me reunite with my birth family.  I've got to say it - I am so glad, I decided to trust my instinct and lay it on the line.  Let's see what tomorrow brings!

Full bore - The search begins

Right now I should be mucking stalls, but I'm not.  I'm wondering where to start, as I begin to chronicle my journey to find my birth mother.  Usually, my best ideas come to me while I muck stalls (there's a title for you - Horse Manure Manager Extraordinaire).  It's the cathartic journey I take every day as I let my mind wander whilst blanketing myself in Eau De Poo.  Of course, as I toil away, with pitchfork in hand, all of my awe inspiring ideas (or so I'd like to think) dissipate into the recesses of my brain before I get the chance to transfer ideas into written  words.  This morning will be different, I'm cheating.  Although I've already fed horses, cats, chickens, and children before 8:00 am, I resist the urge to go out and primp my barn in order to start my journey on paper (OK, blog).  I would really appreciate it, if you could keep this between us an not tell my boarders that I'm shirking my responsibilities for an hour or two.  The blessed joy of flinging poo can wait.

Today.  Today I spit in a vial, then spit again in order to fill it with my saliva.  After sealing my DNA in a box, I hopped in the car, dropped my daughter off at school and went straight to the post office.  With MY DNA sample.  I was worried, and still am.  The  temperature outside this morning was 7 degrees.  Kinda cold, yeah, really cold.  Is it too cold for vial of spit?  Will it survive the journey to NC without issue?  I don't know.  I'll have to wait with baited breath for up to 10 weeks to find out.  Find out what you ask?  I'm hoping that little vial of saliva will give me a clue about my heritage.  Will this sample give me a glimpse into who I'm related to? Most importantly, will it give me a clue into my search to find my birthmother, and I'm grasping at straws.

At some time of the day or night on June 26, 1971 I was born in St. Barnabus Hospital in Livingston, NJ.  What was my given name at birth?  Good question.  I'd like to know too.  For 42 years I've wanted the answer to that question and many, many, many more about my heritage.  Do you, think 42 years is a long enough time to wait?  I do.  That being said.  The search begins.  Anyone out there want to join me?  Have fun using Google, or what ever search engine you prefer.  I'm not super tech savvy, so go ahead, spend a few minutes (or hours - trust me, it's never just a few minutes when you think you're making headway in your search) perusing the internet.  You might even feel compelled to visit the Essex County library and search old microfiche files for me (haven't done that yet).  What I'm searching for today is an old tax map of Roseland, of Laurel Ave to be specific.  So, the search needs to be from about 1970.  One would think with in the today's era it would be relatively simple to find someone, anyone for that matter, in a nanosecond   https://maps.google.com/maps?q=Laurel+Ave,+Roseland,+NJ&hl=en&ll=40.808543,-74.284497&spn=0.002291,0.003484&sll=40.585856,-74.785419&sspn=0.416126,0.891953&oq=laurel+ave+roseland&t=h&hnear=Laurel+Ave,+Roseland,+New+Jersey&z=19
What's now Lasalle Court used to be a beautiful old Colonial farm house.... The house I BELIEVE I would have grown up in.  Perhaps it was the house next door?

I'll try to keep this part short.  I had a really WONDERFUL childhood.  I was (and still am) surrounded by the kindest, most generous, loving family anyone could ever dream of, immediate as well as extended.  I am blessed, and believe I always have been.  The BIG man above has always (almost always) smiled down on me and guided me on a fairly straight and narrow love filled path.  I knew I was special, a very much wanted, and deeply loved child.  I believed it. I knew I had a support system that many would envy.  What was it like growing up in a real life "Leave it to Beaver" kinda family - Blissful.  That being said, I also always felt that there was a huge part of me missing.  Forever and a day I've wondered about my birth mom.  Yeah, birth dad should have played a larger role in the fantasy, but really, it was all about birth mom - Let's call her BMom.  Was she smart?  Was she pretty?  Did she think of me as often as I thought of her?  Would the chance to thank her for making the hardest decision (I'm assuming it was the toughest choice she's had to make thus far in what I hope is a long) of her life?

As a child I would stare at people where ever we went.  Is that her?  Does that lady look like me?  Is she still here in NJ?  So many questions.  There's only one way to find out...

Let's fast forward and I'll try to explain why I'm shirking my responsibilities (did I mention I have to muck stalls... or that getting my taxes ready should really take precedence right now) and typing, typing, typing (I'm sure I'll come back and edit, edit, edit too).

I'll have to start with a HUGE THANKS to my sister for posting on a Facebook page for adoptees asking for help in HER birth mother search.  Twenty four hours after posting, she had her answer. Years ago, my sister did something very sneaky, she broke into my parents filing cabinet in a desperate attempt to find answers herself.  Answers she found.  She had a name, a few details, and was happy to leave it at that until a few months ago, when she posted that fateful request for help.  On November 16, 2013 she posted on a Facebook page for adoptees and within 24 hours had her answer...  My baby sister learned her mother died several years ago. Her birthmother's decomposing body was found  in a swamp in Florida.  Really?  Dead?  No chance to meet her, look in her eyes and thank her.  You've got to be kidding!!!  That's not how her story was supposed to end. There should be a tearful reunion with lots of hugs and most importantly, much needed closure.

There is a silver lining though.  My sister recently moved back to Florida (not far from where she was born), and she was able to meet her Aunt and one of her brothers and learned a lot about her birthmother and family from them.  I know it wasn't the fairy tale ending she'd hoped for, but she's a strong woman, who has faced and tackled many challenges in her short life.  She's happy with who she is, where she's from and grateful to have connected with some birth relatives.  This young woman is in line for Sainthood, I just know it.  Love ya Sis!

So, back to me, and why I'm still typing.  I am holding out hope for that happy reunion.  I could go on and on about how important it is for me to know learn about my medical history AT THE VERY LEAST!  Of course it's important.  I have children.  For their sake, I want to know.  Is there a history of heart disease, alcoholism, breast cancer?  What, what, what, should I be looking out for.  How can I help protect them, if I don't have answers to these basic questions?  I just filled out a new insurance app at the eye doctor's office two days ago. As usual - I can fill those puppies out in record time.  It's easy when there's a large section where you can quickly scribble a whole bunch of question marks.  Who the hell knows if there's a history of glaucoma... I'm obviously not important enough to have that information.  Right now, I'm praying that our dear Governor makes the right decision and grants me access to MY birth records. As an FYI - last week the bill for opening adoption records went before the House and Senate - AGAIN.  NJ adoption open records bill up for final legislative votes today  My search will become so much easier if it passes.

Why didn't I search in my youth?  I did.  But had very little to go on, and absolutely no bread crumbs to follow.  You have no idea how disheartening it is when every search ends up a dead-end.  Every few years, I would get up the courage to sit and ask my parents for details about my adoption.  Their united response has always been the same.  I can't tell you more, and I really wish you wouldn't ask.  I beg you to leave it alone.  Shut down.  Just.Like.That.  I knew it was hard for them, but not knowing, was also hard on me.

Unfortunately, for them, my desire to learn about my past was stronger than my ability to keep quiet.  Although it took 41 years before my mother opened up, she finally did.  Last November after randomly asking the agonizing question during a dinner party AT MY HOUSE... I know, it was in poor taste, but, in the heat of the moment, I had high hopes that asking her off the cuff would catch her off guard and she'd answer me.  My plan backfired, and my loving parents got up and walked out.  Just.Like.That.  Shut out, shut down and feeling horrible.  I was devastated and I know they were too.  I hated hurting them by asking; sometimes I just couldn't help myself.

After Mom had a few days to cool off (I don't blame them in the least for their reaction), I mailed my parents a letter (it's rare that even ONE day passes where my mother and I don't talk multiple times, but it had been almost a week) explaining, yet again WHY I wanted to know.  Fortuitously, this time, her answer was different. My mother resigned herself to share with me the little she knew about my birthmother.  A couple days later, we met at my favorite restaurant and sat and talked, and cried and talked some more.  I thought my prayers were answered.  I couldn't wait to dash out of the restaurant and find BMom.  Here's what Mom shared during our conversation: #1 - She told me her name. #2 - Birth mom actually fought to keep me. #3 -  It was a private adoption, both birth and adopted mothers went to the same OB/GYN. #4 - A private lawyer had been hired to expedite a last minute adoption. #5 - The reason that my adopted family won custody, was due to birth mom not showing up at the  last hearing, thereby forfeiting her biological rights.  #6 - It took my parents a year in court to finally be able call me their daughter - legally.  This information stunned me, and more than explained WHY she couldn't or wouldn't re-live what she went through all those years ago.  #7 - Birth mom lived in town, and we drove past her house all the time!  Wow.

Every day my mother lived in fear that BMom would step in and take away their little blonde bundle joy.  I finally understood and could be more empathetic about their struggle to keep me safe and not wanting to share all the angst and fear they must have felt after the adoption was finalized . It floored me, that at any point in time, the faces that I would stare at as a child in the mall, in church, in the grocery store, could have been her.  A horse farm, or right next door to one.  There's no doubt in my mind that horses were destined to be a large part of my life.  Everyone who knows me, will find the irony in this tidbit of information.  Even more fascinating, is that every time we turned off the highway and pulled onto THAT street, I would beg and plead for my parents to stop so I could pet the little ponies.  Imagine, the painful reminder they had every time we were on our way to my Aunt's house, who lived just a short distance from that horse farm. 

Back to the #1 revelation - I had a name!  Did you hear me?  Yes, I said BIRTH MOTHER'S NAME!!!!  Oh My Goodness - a name.  I was sure my search would be over in a matter of hours!  I thought wrong.  Type her name in on Facebook and the great mystery should be solved.  Not so much.  I messaged a ton of people with similar names, with a very non-obtrusive message stating I was looking for an old family friend, and unfortunately, not one of the few replies came back with any usable information.   I mean, who ISN'T on Facebook.  Apparently, SHE isn't, or at least not with the spelling I was given.  As I type, I realize, that I think it best to leave her name off my blog.  She probably has another family that knows nothing about me!  I am not looking to disrupt anyone's life.  So, for the time being, I will keep her name to myself, as I can't imagine your search would produce better results than mine have.

Just last week, my mother brought me over the few records she could find from my adoption.  There are a number of receipts from the lawyer they hired.  His name was (is?) Edward Terner, and he practiced in West Orange.  Feel free to do your own search on him, as mine did not come up with a current contact number, but I did learn something else about him.  Not sharing it here, but hey, if you find it yourself.... I think you'll be fascinated too.  Wish I knew how that case ended, but no records to be found.  There was also, a page from the Children's Aid Society, but that was regarding a home inspection for my younger sister.  Yup, they have records on her adoption - NOT mine though (insert - dead end).  The State of NJ - Yeah, at a loss there too.  No records.  Hmm.  The mystery continues.

Here's what else I've done in the past week in addition to filling a vial with saliva.
1. I've contacted both the State, and Children's Aid Society (I must tell you how thrilled I was to get responses back from both agencies in rapid fashion and multiple replies as we spit-balled different spellings for BMom's name).
2. I called and requested a copy of my original birth certificate...I'm still waiting on paperwork, and if I don't get it soon, I'm making another call.
3.  I filled out the ISRR registration application and dropped that in the mail yesterday.
4. Here's what a desperate lady will do... I filled out an application for a new show they hope to bring to the United States.   Currently it's running in the UK and I saw a post on one of the adoption sites for a casting call.  They're looking to help unite  Long Lost Family  Did I mention that I'm desperate?




Now that I've put off my primary duty (pun intended) for a good hour and a half, I better get back to it.  The pitchfork calls and it's time to go shovel some POO!!