The picture was taken in August '97, several months after I had found my birthfather.
For as long as I can remember I knew I was adopted. My parents (note: I refer to my adoptive parents as my parents) never hid that from me, nor did they ever avoid the conversation when I had questions. They "got" me when I was seven months old, before that I was in the care of the foster care system in Prince George's County, Maryland. My parents raised me to believe that I was special, and they made sure I knew I was loved. I always felt fortunate to be adopted. What little information I had about my birth family was enough to show me that I was better off being adopted. This is some of the limited information my parents received from the county:
Birth date
Born at Prince George's County Hospital
In foster care for 7 months
Mother: 5'10 160
Health: no serious childhood illnesses, migraines, sinus, pleusiry, hypertension, and lived on tranquilizers.
Maternal grandparents: Alcoholics
Father: 5'2" 195 pounds OR 5'11" 204 pounds
There was no age of birth mother, martial status or sibling information.
Even though a loving, wonderful family adopted me, I still had an unexplainable need to find my birth family. As I was growing up I would occasionally think about who she was or, who I might look like. The older I got the more I would think about finding her. I was 27 when I first seriously thought about looking for her, it was then that I decided to talk with my parents about looking for my birth mother. They were very supportive and even offered to help. About every six months I would take one step closer to searching, but I never could work up the courage for that final step. I even wrote a letter to the county, but never mailed it.
I didn't want to start this without first knowing what I expected from my birth mother. After some soul searching I decided all I wanted was medical history. If, by chance, more came from our meeting, that would be fine. But my only expectation was medical records. I also wanted to thank her for making the hard choice. For whatever reason, she felt it was the right choice, and I wanted to let her know it was. I also wanted her to know I did not hate her or blame her. She did what she thought was best. I had a wonderful childhood and never wanted for love.
Finally, around my 34th birthday, I decided to start the search. I had mentally prepared myself, or so I thought, and now I was ready. I mailed a letter to the county requesting all non-identifying information about my birth family. I notified them that if my birth family inquired about me they could release my name. In turn, I asked that if my birth family had given any such consent I would like that information.
I was expecting a long wait. Within a week I received a letter confirming that the county had received my request and requested me to complete a few forms, have them notarized, and mail them back. I was busy getting ready for my best friend's wedding and decided I would wait until I got back from the wedding to mess with the paperwork. During the entire wedding weekend I never gave the papers another thought. I figured it was just the first tedious step to a long drawn out journey.
I got back into town late Sunday night and there was a message on my machine from the county worker handling my case. I figured she was calling to inquire about the status of the paperwork. I didn't bother calling her the next morning. About 10 o'clock the phone rang. It was the county worker. She asked me if I was sitting because she had some news for me. You can imagine my surprise when she told me she had located my birth mother. I'm glad she had me sit first. She went on to say that my birthmother was interested in meeting me and for me to call her. I was given her name and phone number and told that she was expecting my call.
Less than a month had passed since I had mailed in my letter requesting information. Now, suddenly, in my hand was the phone number to the one person who could answer so many of my questions. I had thought of this moment for what seemed forever, and now suddenly here it was. What do I say? How should I act? I hesitated for a few minutes, not sure if I really was ready for this journey. I was so nervous, my hands were sweating and my heart was pounding. I put the number down and walked away, only to go back and pick it up. I took a deep breath, picked up the phone and dialed the number. Part of me was hoping no one would answer, while the other part was wondering what was taking so long.
Suddenly the phone stopped ringing; I heard a female voice on the other end saying hello. "O God, hang up quick" I thought, "it's not too late". My hand wouldn't move, I tried to make it, but it wouldn't. Suddenly I heard myself say, "Hello, is this Cora?" When she said yes, I took a deep breath and then said the words I had practiced since I was little. "Hi, this is Beth, your daughter". I finally said it!! I finally was able to connect myself with the rest of the world. No longer a minority. No longer unable to participate in conversations about who I look like, or where my family came from.
We talked for awhile and made arrangements for me to drive to her house the next night. She only lived 45 minutes from me, but that was the longest trip of my life. I didn't think I would ever get there. As I pulled in the driveway she came outside. She was not at all what I had pictured, but then again I did not expect her to be 70 years old. I always figured she was a young, high school girl when she had me. I didn't know she had been 36 years old. Our reunion was nothing like the ones you see on TV. There was no tears or spasms, there was hardly a hug. It seems that neither one of us are the huggy feely types. We visited for a couple of hours. She called her sister and I talked with her. I saw so many pictures of family and learned all about them.
I had always said that if I ever met my birthmother I would tell her that she made the right choice. I don't know if it was just me, but when I thanked her for doing what she did it almost seemed like she looked relieved. I told her I didn't care why she did it, I just wanted her to know I don't hate her for it and everything is all right. She insisted on telling me why I was given away. It really didn't make a difference, and truthfully, I wish she hadn't.
As I was sitting there talking with her, I kept telling myself that the county made a mistake. This women was not my mother, I look nothing like her. I reminded myself she was 36 years older than I was, and to look through the wrinkles. Suddenly, I realized, she had no neck! (I have a very short neck and always joke that I have no neck). We had a good chuckle about my observation, I was glad to see she had a sense of humor.
I discovered that she was very athletic and loves cars. In her day she was known as a tomboy. Seems to me that I remember being called that from time to time. I have always had an interest in cars, looks like it runs in the genes.
I had told my parents about the phone call and the upcoming visit. On my way home after visiting my birthmother I called my parents; it seemed like the right thing to do. They were very happy for me. Their support made this adventure easier. I didn't want to hurt them, but I did want to know about my birth family. I had made it clear to them I am not looking to replace them; no one could. I just wanted to know where I came from.
My birthmother and I kept in contact every day via e-mail and talked on the phone several times a week. I learned so much about myself. I had always thought that personality and interests were formed from your environment, I was finding out that genetics plays a huge part. For example, my parents raised me to be a little lady, they sent me to charm school and put me in dresses. I was never interested in any of that. When I was two I asked for a truck for my birthday. I was the complete opposite of my environment. After meeting my birthmother I now know why I like the things I do; it is genetics. That became even more evident after I meet my birthfather.
Oh yes, my birthfather, now that's another adventure. I never even gave much thought about finding him considering my birthmother didn't even know which man was the father, or so she said. It was a choice between two men, one of whom she ended up marrying after she gave me away. Two weeks after the county worker called with news about my birthmother, she called with news about my birthfather. He was there in her office, and she asked if I wanted to talk to him. By this point I was game for anything. We exchanged phone numbers and talked for awhile. He didn't even know about me, my birthmother never told him about my birth.
Even though the name on my birth certificate was that of the man I talked with on the phone, there was a chance that the man my birthmother married after my birth was my birthfather. At the time of my conception she had been dating both men. I decided to ask for a paternity test. My birthmother's husband died in 1973 so that left one potential father still alive. He agreed to a paternity test so we made the plans for that.
I met him for the first time face to face in front of the courthouse the day we were getting our blood drawn for the paternity test. Even though there were about 20 people mingling in front of the courthouse I knew which one was my birthfather. As I came walking up, he spotted me. He said he knew it was me because I had the Robey walk (Robey is his last name). He was short and stocky, just like me. I was being very cautious, I didn't want to get my hopes built up in case he was not be my birthfather. The funniest thing is that everyone calls him Shorty, which is my nickname too. He brought a bunch of pictures of his kids; I could see a little resemblance, or so I hoped. We talked and joked for 3 hours. He would tell a joke and I would say the punch line. It was a good visit and I was really hoping he was my birthfather.
It was a long wait, but after a little over a month the results were in. There is a 99.94% chance that he is my birthfather; don't get much closer than that. He told me he was thinking about sending out birth announcements to the family. He lives several hours away from me so we don't see much of each other. During the summer we met again at a pig roast. This time I brought the pictures; I wanted him to see what I looked like as a kid. Everyone kept commenting on how much I look like him. I was on cloud nine, I have always wanted to hear those simple, yet magical words.
The honeymoon period with my birth mother did not last long. I started having problems with some of the things she said or did. She refused to let me meet my younger half sister; the girl doesn't even know about me. I started to accidentally uncover lies she had told me about why she gave me up for adoption and how she met my birthfather. I was beginning to wonder if I really wanted a relationship with her or if I should walk away. I did go into this only for the medical history. I kept asking myself why should I try and make it work. Yet, I just could not walk away. I want to know her better. I want to know my birth family better. For good or bad, they are my family.
As this story ends, my journey continues. Right now I am sitting in limbo waiting for something to happen between my birthmother and me. I have not spoken with her for about 3 months, no e-mails have been sent and no Christmas cards received. For years Christmas time was the time I really thought about her. I would even whisper a little Merry Christmas to her on Christmas morning, hoping that one day I could say it to her face to face. Now that I know her I can wish her a Merry Christmas, but because of the problems we are having, I probably won't.
No matter what happens between my birthmother and myself I am glad I found her, and my birthfather. I am glad we were reunited. There are negatives to a reunion, but there are also positives. I finally have the answers I had sought, and I finally feel I am connected to the past. I no longer have a huge question mark hanging over my family tree. The reunion helped put closure on so many issues.
In the future I hope to meet my half siblings, all nine of them (3 from her side and 6 from his). I hope to form a friendship with some of them.