Category: Adoption

I haven’t written here in a while. There wasn’t a lot to
report on my bio father search for a long span of time, and I wasn’t up to writing anything
about adoption. When reading some other adoptee writers, I discover that many
of them take  hiatuses from time to time for their well being. I totally understand and have been at this place for a while now.There has been some progress on the search for my bio father. It is necessary for me to be careful how I write about it, as part of it is someone else’s story to tell,
someone I have grown to care about very much. She is another adoptee who is also part of my maternal family. We are first cousins and we connected because we were a DNA
match. (Thank God for DNA testing!)  We have been in contact for a few years now, but this coming month we will meet in person for the first time. I am so excited! I am not sure if she will be comfortable with me using her real name, so for now, here on the blog I’ll call her Meg.  Although Meg is part of my maternal family, her birth situation gives clues as to possible whereabouts of my bio mother and bio father in 1965, and friendships,
connections, etc. that may identify who my bio father is. We have been pursuing
those leads.   The clues have brought us to a man I have been trying
to reach who we believe may be my father…There is a lot of circumstantial evidence pointing to him. But then again, we have been at this place before with circumstantial evidence. Nothing is definite until it’s DNA tested. I have been trying to reach him for a few months now, and he answered the phone last
night and we talked. He says he did not know my mother. I don’t know whether I
believe him. We had an hour-long conversation that just went round and round. He
is in his mid-eighties, highly educated and well spoken. When I asked
questions, he would often spin off into another topic. (Therefore, my nickname for him on the blog hereafter — Mr. Spin.)  I tried to keep
the conversation on task but he would quickly spin off into a what sounded like a
history lesson on the Greeks and the Turks. I already knew everything he
shared about the Greeks and Turks. A few years ago when I was studying for my masters, there was an
assignment that we were given where we could choose certain people groups to
study. I chose the Turks being that I know I have Turkish DNA. I often select
things to study that help me greater understand my roots. Since there is so
much I don’t know about my roots, I grab knowledge wherever I can.He also did several spin offs after my questions, talking about his Greek Orthodox church. He doesn’t even know I go to church much less serve as a ministry leader, so this was interesting. He spoke several times about various individuals in his church being adopted… “There’s this fellow at my church who is adopted…maybe you could talk to him..” I wasn’t sure what this had to do with my search. My thoughts kept fluctuating from, “Are you trying to deflect my question?” to “Do you have the beginnings of dementia?”  Mr. Spin also has an adopted daughter and midway
through the conversation he remarked, “I have an adopted daughter and being adopted
doesn’t seem to bother her at all.” Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. A million sighs. A plethora of adoptive parents seem to go to the same school and read the same script. I didn’t talk about being adopted other than once to reference that
I am. I never said I mind being adopted. I never said I don’t mind being adopted. I just said that I’m
searching for my biological father.Why does everything have to circle back to whether an adoptee is happy about adoption?  It is like their go-to touchstone every time an adoptee has questions. Me: I want to know who my biological father is. Adoptive parents of the world: Why? Do you not love adoption?  It gets exhausting. He said I could call again sometime if I have any other questions.I asked everything I could think of that would help drill down on things, so I’m not sure what to ask next. I did however want to say: “Have you ever watched the show This is Us? I really recommend it.”  Today I’m feeling a little wiped out after last night’s conversation. I feel like I just got thrown off a verbal merry-go-round. I’m going to sit on the couch with my dog Manny and finish writing
my research paper that is due, finishing out this semester.  (I have one more
year until I graduate with my doctorate – April 29, 2022 to be exact!!) School work among other thing help me to keep moving forward with other areas of my life even when this
feels like it’s at a hopeless standstill. I know it’s not hopeless. That is a lie I am
sometimes tempted to believe, but ultimately refuse to accept. I realize God is working
behind the scenes even when I don’t realize it.    My hope is that if Mr. Spin is my biological father, he will
keep thinking about our conversation and will not be able to let it go. I pray it keeps him up at night. I pray if it’s him, he does the right thing in the end. In the meantime, I will keep writing papers, doing my job, loving my family, and getting all the joy out of life that I possibly can.  I know that if Mr. Spin is my biological father and he ultimately rejects me, it does not define me.   

  My possible new Greek
family member who for now here on the blog I will call Angela, has completed
her DNA test and mailed it in.  Angela has fallen in
love with me as a possible family member. I feel a pull in the exact same
direction but I am fearful. I am scared of my heart being broken and just as
much, I don’t want to disappoint her. And then in the midst of all these
feelings I stop to think, “Someone is this excited about ME???”  

The Greek Orthodox
church is the center of this family’s life. It runs very deep and just how deep
I cannot disclose here yet because it would give the identities away…  but I will
just say it’s everything to them. When I talked to Mr. Spin the other night on the phone for an hour, the majority of it was about the church. And he doesn’t even know I’m a Christian.  Angela wants me to come for Greek Easter
there. It’s not the same Sunday as American Easter. It is always a month later.
That makes it so great for me, as if I went to share Easter with them, I wouldn’t have to miss what is the biggest
Sunday of the year for our church here, to go there. Greek Easter (Pascha) is
also their biggest week of the year, and a time of great commemoration and
feasting. Angela was literally in tears telling me about it and wanting me to
experience it with them.

So I’m hearing all this
on the phone and my heart is saying, “Yeeeeeeeeesssssss!” and at the same time
there’s a part of me that realizes if we are not a match, it is going to change
all of this.

Angela says we can
always be friends and do all this even if we are not a match.I know all this. I’m grateful for all this. But it’s still going to kill me emotionally. Angela is already
texting, “I love you,” and I reciprocate and at the same time I feel afraid.
Then I tell myself, “At least I am not temporarily wrecking someone’s life this
time…”

In times past there
have been people who I thought may be my bio family and they have have DNA tested for me and if we were a match, it would have
confirmed their family member’s affair or something that at least one person in
the family would be devastated by. This time there is not that factor. There is
no one, at least alive, who would be hurt by a match on the DNA test. I am grateful
for that.

A friend of mine posted
this meme this morning on our leadership page, that failure is part of the
process and people who avoid failure also avoid success. It was right on time
for me.  I can’t ever find out who my bio
father is if I avoid approaching people, connecting with them, getting them to
DNA test, and facing possible failures to get a match. This will never happen without
me putting my heart out there once again.

It’s hard to put into
words the emotional toll this takes on an adoptee. Last night I called Regina
(who has done literally thousands of hours of research on my behalf and is the
one who found this family) and talked through my feelings. I said, “give me the list again of all the circumstantial evidence as to why we believe Mr. Spin is my father?” She did. And then, she could tell I was
really on edge and offered to pray for me, which was so
appreciated.

Last night I had a
nightmare that I didn’t have enough vacation time to go see my bio father, and
Angela if we were a match. (Which is not the case, I have plenty of time.) I
had this overwhelming depressive cloud over me this morning of wanting to stay
in bed and not get out, concerned about a non-match and disappointing Angela. And me.  My
husband talked me through that and I got out of bed and started my day.My mind is in a zillion
different directions today, but at the end of the day I’m realizing it’s
probably best for me to just fall hard for Angela and her family and embrace
them for all it’s worth. If it’s the real thing, I have given myself the full
experience of celebrating my paternal family in a worthy way and enjoying what should be wildly celebrated. If I allow myself the full experience of following my heart and loving them, I will have avoided cheating
myself of this experience due to the fear of “what if.”  On the flip side, if we are not a match, I will have to go
through the process of healing from yet another disappointment and starting
back again at square one. (I hate square one!!!) I guess it’s not actually square
one when you think about the fact that if it’s not a match we have ruled out
yet another Greek family in Richmond and have learned something in the process,
but for me if sure feels like square one.

So, my thought today
is, I’m going to allow myself to fall in love with this Greek family even
though there’s a chance I might need a case of Kleenex, a Razzleberry pie,
therapy and a week’s vacation to get on my feet again when the test results
come back.    Last night I started watching the services of their Greek Orthodox church on Facebook. I want to learn as much as I can about their customs and way of worship before I visit in person.

I love you too, Angela,
I love you too.

 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.

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.

 Today makes 10 days
since the DNA test was sent in. It feels as slow as molasses.

This isn’t my first rodeo with waiting on a DNA test and one thing I have learned is that the only
way to stay half way sane is by immersing myself in activity.

It’s difficult to not
think about the results 24/7.

Lucky for me, I lead a pretty busy life all the time. There’s
always plenty of work beckoning me for my  job as well as things at home and
school. We’ve been on a staycation this week but there has still been constant cooking, cleaning, and we’ve been doing some special projects.  Since I have five book reviews due in the next 10 days for school, I’m pretty immersed
in that as well, When you’re in grad
school it doesn’t matter what else is happening — you just stick with it if you’re going to finish. Over the last few years, even if it’s been my most hectic work week, or I’ve been on the road for work, or someone has died, or anything really – school work has to go on if I’m going to succeed with it.

Livvy has been with us
this week and that has been good for me too. I’ve taken her swimming a few
times, and we went putt putt golfing. It’s easy to get taken up with anything
she’s involved in, as I treasure every moment with her.We went to a new Mediterranean restaurant in the area that was out of this world. She’s an extremely picky eater and even she loved it.  

I’ve heard that Covid
19 has slowed down some of the results from getting in as fast with the various DNA companies but I’m hoping
that doesn’t happen.

If it’s a match, I have
so many plans I don’t even know where to start first!! (Except screaming with
glee.) I’m already planning a party, as well as a visit to Richmond.

If it’s not a match, I’ll
probably be numb about it for a day or two. Hopefully it’s not a day I have to preach but
if it is, it’ll be okay. I tend to do alright even in that case as I lean on
the Lord even more than I normally would. And that’s always a win!

I know I’m going to be
okay no matter the outcome. I’m just really, really tired of the same outcome
for 54 years. This has been going on for so long. I’m ready for victory over the not knowing.The not knowing is the worst.

When my bio mother
died, Michele, an adoptee friend who is a strong Christian, simply wrote five words on
my Facebook page, “She is not the victor!” That stuck with me.  

Hundreds of people were
writing on my page, texting me, calling me when I posted that she had died. Most of
them were upset, not just that she died but because they realized that when she
died she took the secret to the grave with her. They all assumed (and they were right) that I
was feeling all hope was gone.  If I had to characterize the main thing I felt, that was it. Hope was lost. Michele’s declaration was what I needed to hear
in that moment. It held me for the months following and it holds me now. Anytime I get really discouraged I think to myself, “She is NOT the victor!!”And I remind myself, I’m actually still alive.I’m still here. And I’m not giving up!”I remind myself that while she took the secret to the grave with her, that’s where she is — in a grave. I’m still walking the planet, and I’m still searching and I’ve got great people with me who are also committed to the search. I remind myself – IT’S NOT OVER. She doesn’t get to write the end of the story.  And when I do get a DNA match, I may
even get a cake at Publix that says, “She is not the victor!”  

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.     

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.

 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.

  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!

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.