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Yesterday was three weeks since the DNA test was sent in to
Ancestry. My friend Regina and I have both been checking for results
about 30 times a day. I know the time given is 4-6 weeks, however some people have
been known to get results earlier. I just keep the Ancestry app open on my phone, next to me.

This is my week at school, and I’m in the classroom all day
long hearing lectures and engaging in class discussion. Yesterday our professor did a
magic trick with a quarter, as an illustration. His execution of this trick was stellar, and every student in our class was struggling with moving on to
the next topic without him telling us how he ‘magically’ moved the quarter from
one place to another. He dismissed our questions and went on to  lecture about something else and someone
would raise their hand and ask about the quarter. This went on for a few hours.
We just wouldn’t let it go. The whole point of his illustration was that the curiosity would drive us crazy and we would keep asking about how he did it. And
it worked!

Once he had proved his point he said, “Curiosity is a sign of
intelligence. Wanting to know is a sign of intelligence.”

I instantly thought, “Hmmm…I must be pretty smart!!” (Bahahahaha!!)

Once he told us the point of this whole thing, which was staying curious and going after what we have a drive to find out, all I could think about is the fact that I believe it’s literal
mental torture (no, I am not exaggerating, I really do believe it is mental
torture) to not know who one or both of your biological parents are.

My professor sharing about curiosity and the drive to know validated something in
me where I was comforted that I’m not crazy. Although it’s threatened to drive me off a cliff at times, I’m normal. There is nothing wrong with me. It’s perfectly okay that I don’t want to let this go, that I
can’t just let this go.

Just like our class needed to know where that darn quarter
was, I need to know who my father is.

 I got this text today from Angela. (The person who DNA tested for me that I hope is my cousin.) As you can see, DNA results can come in at literally any second
now. I am a mix of excited and apprehensive. In my experience as an adoptee, this moment in time where you are waiting on a DNA result is so unique. In
one sense, I love this moment because hope is alive. Never do I have as much hope as when I’m waiting for those results. When results come back as not a match as has happened to me numerous times, I
do get the feeling for a while that hope is dashed on the rocks into a million
pieces. It’s that, “oh my God, we are back to square one…” sinking feeling.  In my experience when that happens, hope is slowly regained through the
encouragement of others.   

I am in a really good headspace right now regarding the
results. I can’t say that things have always been that way. There have been
times I have hoped against hope and known that if it wasn’t a match I was going
to be rather emotional about it for a while.  I am not sure why, but I am not
feeling that this time. Perhaps it’s because I’ve gone through this so many
times. Maybe it’s because I’ve gotten stronger emotionally. This isn’t to say
that it isn’t excruciating mentally or that adoptees shouldn’t take it hard when that happens. I
realize this is totally subjective as well. People handle things differently.

I’ve developed even more of the attitude that relinquishment,
adoption, sealed records, secondary rejection, failed reunion, and everything
surrounding it has already taken so much from my life and I don’t want it to
take any more from me.     

I want this to be a match more than I could ever
express. But if it’s not, it will not slay me. I’m done with being knocked down
and I am going to win. I don’t know exactly when I will win, but I know I will.

 Angela and I are not a DNA match. (Insert primal scream here.) It’s back to the drawing board.

I spiritually and emotionally prepared myself for it this time
more than any other before this. I didn’t stockpile Razzleberry pies. I’m not bloated today from binging. I am so disappointed but not slayed. I’m not taking off work. I’ll get a lot more done now that I’m not checking DNA results 30 times a day. I’m not laying in bed crying. I’m not feeling as if I want to check out of life and leave this world.  I’m stronger now. This time I’m just taking a big breath and moving forward with everything in life including searching. Regina kept working last night on the next thing. (There’s always a next thing.) Later this evening I will do some paperwork to send out on the search.Looking on the positive side, Angela (who tested for me) is still my friend and is “boots on the ground” in Richmond to help me with whatever I need in continuing to search for my father. Since she’s connected in the Greek community and knows a lot of people  who were living there at the time I was born, she is there to help.I did not share this yet here on the blog, but one of the reasons Angela was so eager to help me when I cold called her is that she is a first mother who relinquished a son for adoption when she was a teenager. They have been reunited in the past few years. She knows how important this is to me. She has experienced it in her own life. She wants to do anything she can to help me. We will always remain friends.Last night I texted with my sister Kim (who is also adopted) and told her I wish I didn’t care so much about this. She said, “why don’t you just pray that? Pray that you won’t care anymore.” I told her I have. It’s true, I have prayed so many times that I just wouldn’t care anymore about my bio father. That I could just let it go. But the gnawing never ends no matter how much I pray. I really have come to the conclusion that God puts an innate desire in human beings to know where and who we come from. I’ve met far more adoptees who want to know — who “have” to know – more than those who don’t care.

The most challenging thing for me on a daily basis is
forgiveness. The bible talks about the number of times we need to forgive someone — 70 x 7. (That’s another way to say — an infinite number of time times.)  Welp, today I’m at 3,009. That’s the number of days it has been since
my bio mother told me my father’s name would go with her to her grave. That was the
day she told me she would “never, ever tell me his name.” Shortly after that, she died. She made good on her promise.  Every day since that
day 3, 009 days ago, I’ve gotten up in the morning each day still looking at this face in the mirror, trying to find his face in mine. And in that frustration, I eek out the words, “I forgive you.” It’s a daily thing, not a once and done. Because the
longing to know him never goes away.  So
neither does the sad feeling about why I don’t know his name or know him.  Her decision affects my life each day and then I make a decision all over again to forgive on the next day and the next day and the next day after that when I
still don’t know who he is.I’m a believer, and forgiving is what we do. Even if it takes forever.

Recently I decided to read the Gospel of John in the Bible
with fresh eyes. Basically this entails trying to forget I know any of the
information contained therein and try to take it in like  I’m reading it for the first time. I’m doing
this in an effort to know Jesus more and differently than before.

In my quest to do this I came upon a verse in chapter one (Amplified version) that
I had never seen before. It’s this one – verse 13, that I made a graphic of. I
can’t believe I didn’t notice it before. When I came across it this time, it deeply spoke to me. 

For a long time I’ve said
that I feel like I was dropped out of heaven, not really of
this world. Please don’t misunderstand, I’m not implying that I’m God or any
type of god, or an angel. Certainly not. What I am saying is that I’ve never
felt like I fit in here. A huge part of that is all the pieces that are still
missing. I have very little  information to speak of about my first two months of existence in the hospital and foster care. I have no photos of myself before three months of age.   I have heard many adoptees say they have a hard time feeling like they
truly exist because they don’t know where they came from or who they came from.There are many unanswered questions, and my bio mother chose to go to the grave refusing to answer them.  So, I give God the credit for getting me here. He gets all the gratefulness.Thank you, John 1:13. You rock. I am born of God.

I found my father! Yes! It’s true!

After searching for him for most of my life, and especially
the last ten years, I found my father through a DNA match! It’s OFFICIAL, there is NO DOUBT!

Imagine my surprise that my father, Gus, is ALIVE, and 92 years old, and
still living in the place that he and my mother met!

We talked for the first time on Facetime a few days later, and we
met in person on May 20. We spent five days together and this is just the first
of many trips to see him. In between, we Facetime and talk on the phone.He has fully accepted me, and I’m the happiest gal in the world!

 There’s so much to write, and so much to share but for now I’ll
just say I’m on a cloud and may never come down.  The search is OVER. My father is ALIVE.  I can hear his voice, talk to him about everything and anything, and hug his neck!This is quite literally the best news, ever.     

My original 23 and Me test that showed my cousin on
the “X” chromosome was more than enough to identify my father, BUT we went
ahead and had a paternity test done. The results of that are in! And of course
we are a match.

I would do whatever I had to do to prove to the world that we
are legit, father and daughter! We already knew but this is for anyone else in
the  world who needs to understand.

  Everyone mentions how heartwarming mine and Gus’s story is. I
have had requests for interviews. The first one was with the Orlando Voyager
Magazine. They reached out for an interview just a few weeks into us meeting.

You can read the interview at this link. (Click Here!)

I’ve also done a podcast interview recently as well, with Living in the Light, with Dr. Kristi Lemley. She is a podcaster with the Charisma Podcast Network. You can listen to the episode at this link. (Click Here!)  Our story is going around the world! And we’re just getting started.

Gus and I have had several visits now and we talk all the
time. I have friends who Facetime us and I am so grateful for it.

God has provided everything for us. We are living out a God-story and the best is yet to come!

Gus and I already knew 100% that we are father and daughter.
We matched on 23 and Me with his nephew, and then we had a paternity test done
through a home kit. Plus, he remembers the relationship with my mother, and all
of that. Not to mention, I look just like him! But…

I want to have it done completely LEGAL, and something that
would literally stand up in a court of law. (Not that we will ever need that,
but I just wanted to have it.)  After all the many years of searching for him,
and the blood, sweat and tears, I’ve gone through…it’s way too much work and
means way too much not to make it 1000% official and have a third party, legal
DNA test done.  There are legal DNA
companies that are mobile and will come to any location and I hired one to come
out and test us. Here’s a picture of the lab technician doing Gus’s part of the test.

Now it’s legal schmegal, forever and ever and ever and ever
AMEN!!

Woot woot!!!

It has been ten months (310 days from today, to be exact) since I found my bio father Gus, and
reunited with him. And in those ten months I’ve learned many things too
numerous to list on one blog post. But today, here’s the one I will focus on.

The entire freaking world is obsessed with adoptive parents.  Nothing has changed.  And
before you say, “It’s just the Christian world, not the whole world…” you’re wrong. I
promise you on a stack of Bibles, it is THE WHOLE WORLD.

My story hit the news media without me even trying. The extent
of my “try” was writing Facebook posts about my father and I to my friends
(that were set to public) and made their way into the hands of the media. I was
fine with that, and actually honored. However, it has not been without
frustration.

One of my biggest headaches in this season has been navigating
media inquiries regarding my adoptive parents. One hundred percent of the time,
when any media outlet has contacted me, they have wanted to go there. Sometimes
literally! One media outlet requested to send a crew to interview both my
parents. I said no, that I would refuse to do the interview, if they did. They
backed down once I set that boundary.

One news outlet said that if they did not include my parents
in the story, their readers would, “not be able to handle it.” I pushed back on
this and was told that they (the media) would be bombarded with emails and
calls asking about my parents. I said, “So???” They said, “Well, you might be
bombarded with questions about them, too.” And I said, “And you don’t think I’m
used to that?” I set a boundary by saying, “If you need to contact my adoptive parents to do the article,
then I’m not your person and my story isn’t the one for you.”

Recently, I was interviewed by Haley Radke on the Adoptees
On podcast, and she said that she found the media coverage about my bio father
and I refreshing because it was centered on us, and not my adoptive parents. She noted that this is not typically the case. I
let her know that this was only because I fought for that, and set a strong boundary.  If the media had their way, it would have been different.

I say all this to let you know…nothing has changed in this
regard. Nothing.

They still (even the liberal news media) focus on adoptive parents
first, birth parents second, and IF they focus on the adoptee it is third, but
many times we are not considered. The world is still very much adoptive parents centric.

I was assured multiple times that a story would be adoptee
centric, but in every single case, it was never exclusively so, as they
would push to include my adoptive parents in some regard.

Sadly an adoptee can be 56 years old, and they are still
asking to “check in” with our parents. And they wonder why we say we feel like
perpetual children?

I literally qualify to order off the freaking SENIORS MENU at
a restaurant now and people are STILL CHECKING IN WITH MY PARENTS.

How crazy is this?

Fortunately for me, I am not trying to get news coverage.
I can take it or leave it. Every person who has contacted me has been out of the blue and I have not
sought it. If they want to include my adoptive
parents in the piece, I can drop it and they can find someone else.

This just gets tiring. I really thought when I hit a certain
age, this would stop. But it appears you can technically be in your senior
years and people will insist on talking to Mommy and Daddy.

And nobody but us thinks this is bizarre?