By Birth and By Blood

     I want to tell my story. Not my birth parents' stories. Not my adoptive parents stories. (Those are not mine to tell). But my story. With complete honesty. As I remember it and have experienced it. There have been so many people asking. It is a little overwhelming. And at times it can be emotionally draining to continually be asked how I'm feeling. So, here goes. 

     I can't remember there ever being a time when I didn't know that I was adopted. My mom, Lisa, hung a wooden plaque in my room above my crib as a baby (which I still have to this today) that read:

      Not flesh of my flesh

      Nor bone of my bone

      But still miraculously my own.

      Never forget for a single minute

      You didn't grow under my heart

      But in it.

I was born in Englewood, CO at the Swedish Medical Center on October 29th, 1986. Both of my birth parents were young - still in high school when I was conceived. I was put up for adoption through LDS Social Services. I lived with a foster family for two weeks (The Bailey family - they so generously set up a trust fund for me that paid for my first two years of college) before I went to live with my adoptive parents. I was called "Baby No Name" for weeks because my parents couldn't decide what name was a perfect fit. I ended up being named by a lady from church who had come by to meet me. "Don't you know that her name is Heather?!" The adoption was finalized when I was just under or just over a year old (I think?).  When I was 2 years old, my parents adopted another baby through LDS Services - my brother Stephen.  For a long while it was just the two of us. 

When I was 8 years old, I ask my parents if I could ever meet my birth parents. They said that 8 years old was a little young but they did allow me to write a letter to my birth mom and put it in some mythical file somewhere that supposedly she had access to? I think this must have been something they mailed to LDS Social Services on the chance that my birth family ever wanted to try and find me. Nothing ever came of it. But it was made clear to me then that if I ever wanted to find them, my parents would be supportive and help me in whatever way they could. 

When I was 11 or 12, my parents opened our home to foster care and in pretty quick succession my parents adopted my 3 younger siblings. My middle brother and younger sister are actually half siblings and they have always remembered their birth families. 

When I was about to turn 18, I thought this was it. I was going to be an adult and my birth parents could finally find me! I was honestly a little disappointed that when the day came there wasn't any sort of contact initiated. I'm not sure what I expected. I've since learned that it's not an easy process. And my birth parents have less of a right to my adoption records that even I do. But at the time I felt a little abandoned. Did they think about me every year on my birthday? Did they remember that I existed? Did they ever wonder about where I was or what my life was like? 

I decided to put my desire to meet them aside. Maybe they didn't want their new families to know about me. Maybe they had a big secret that they wanted to keep. 

I had a rough couple of years from the ages of 18-22. A lot of the lowest points of my life happened in those 4 years. And I didn't think about my birth parents much during that time period. I'm not sure what renewed my interest in continuing to hope that there would be a way for me to know them. Maybe it was after my mom enrolled me in some self help course at the local community college? Maybe it was because my therapist suggested it? That time is really hazy to me. A lot of things I wanted to forget have made that time in my life really inaccessible to me now that a decade has passed. But I decided to use the internet and find out what I could. I visited high school alumni sites and asked at least a dozen Class of 1986 class presidents of high schools in the area  if they remembered anyone who was pregnant during their senior year of high school. Nothing ever came of it. But I was trying. 

It was around that time that my adoptive mom got breast cancer. It began to feel like a really insensitive time to look for my birth family. I loved my mom and I didn't want her to feel like I was trying to replace her in any way. She passed away when I was 23. I spent a lot of time wondering if I was dishonoring her memory in my search. So, I gave it up again.

Time passed, as it does, and I got married and started my own family. My younger sister had resumed contact with her birth family and I was always a little wary after that. She had had both really good and really bad experiences. The bad experiences were something that terrified me. One of my high school best friends found her birth mother online and she wanted nothing to do with my sweet friend. It was heart-breaking. I didn't want to go through that. 

It was around age 25 when I started to have significant health issues. After every hip surgery I would wonder if my health issues were genetic and if they had gotten any answers as to what it was that was tearing up the large joints in my body. For my 26th or 27th birthday, my sister and a few of my sister in laws bought me a DNA test through Ancestry.com. Maybe I could find my birth family that way and get some answers! 

Any time that I would get a DNA match, even if it was a distant blood relative, I would ask them if they knew anyone in their family who had given up a baby for adoption in 1986. I never found anyone who did. Years went by and I still checked in every couple of months to see if I had a new DNA match - a new possible lead. 

This summer, during one of my infrequent visits to Ancestry.com, I received a message back from one of my matches saying that he didn't know anyone who gave up a baby in 1986 but that he was looking for his half sister who was given up for adoption in 1968. I knew that my birth mother was also adopted. Could it be that I had inadvertently found my birth mother's birth family?! She had been put up for adoption in the state of Arizona. He was having trouble accessing any birth records in AZ. But maybe I could access my birth records in Colorado? I hadn't checked the state's regulations on birth records in a few years. Maybe something had changed? Maybe I could help us both find her? In doing some research, I discovered that in 2016, Colorado had released all birth records before 1990 and that I could apply for my original birth certificate. I sent in the application and forgot about it.

Two weeks ago my original birth certificate came in the mail. Right there, in black and white, was my original birth name and the name of my birth mother. I did some research and I was able to find her on Facebook. I had been looking for so long, now that I found her, was I ready? Was I ready to face possible rejection? Was I ready to give up this image I had built up in my head of who she was and how she was supposed to be? Was I angry? Was I excited? Did I resent her? Did I resent myself for even starting down this path? 

Sending her a message on Facebook was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I felt so vulnerable. So fragile. Is this something I could come back from if it went badly? I can't even remember what my message to her said. I didn't expect to hear back for weeks. If at all. 

I received a message back the very next morning. She was overwhelmed. I couldn't tell if she was upset that I had contacted her. She seems scared that I would be angry. I discovered that I wasn't. Not at all. She was hesitant. So was I. We spoke back and forth on Facebook all day. I found out I have three half brothers and one half sister. I started talking to my half sister. I haven't had any contact with my half brothers. I'm not sure if they want to speak to me or not. But I don't want to force them to. I don't really want to say much about what I've talked to my mother and sister about yet. I feel like I want that to be very private. To belong to just me. Getting to know people for the first time that you have been connected to your entire life is strange. And wonderful. And I'm not ready to share it yet. I did get my mother in contact with her birth family. I think we are all wanting to take our time. This is definitely a lot.

I waited a day to ask about my birth father. I wasn't sure how that question would be received. I couldn't get much information about him at first. His name wasn't on my birth certificate. I brought him up again the next day. She helped me find him on Facebook. I know that wasn't easy for her. I sent him a message. My parents never talked about him. They would talk about my birth mother and how brave she was for giving me and them such an incredible gift. But they didn't talk about him. I wasn't sure what to expect. Reaching out to him was a lot harder in a lot of ways. Because I had no frame of reference about how much he was involved. 

He responded a week later. I was afraid he wouldn't "claim" me. But he has also been wonderful. I have three half brothers. And two step sisters? I'm not sure how that works. But his whole family has reached out to me. 

I feel very loved. From people I haven't even met yet. And overwhelmed. And happy. I also feel validated. And a little scared. It's a lot. That's how I feel. It's just a lot. It's more than I could have ever hoped for.