My mother was adopted. That fact has impacted my mother for a long time. She never felt like she knew herself, because she never know where she came from. Is she a first born? An only child? What is her heritage? What was her family like? Why was she given up for adoption? Who is she? Who is my mother?
She never felt wanted. Not by her birth mother, not by her adoptive parents. In a way, I’m glad. I’m sorry she felt that way, but at least I never had to feel like that. My mother never wanted me to, and I never did.
When Grandma died back in 2013, my mother started to think about finding her birth parents. She talked about it, but never did anything. Maybe she didn’t know what to do. Maybe she didn’t want to know what to do.
Either way, it’s taken two years, but the ball is rolling. I had had enough of, “I should,” so I did. I found a form, I called the court house where the adoption was finalized, I asked around, trying to figure out what I needed to send. The lady on the other line, Laura, was amazing. She was patient, super helpful, and gave me all the information I needed in a simple, easy to understand fashion. She even gave us another option, if what we find—if anything—doesn’t help.
While on the phone with her, she asked me some questions, questions that weren’t random, but I didn’t know why she needed the answers. I heard her typing, and I found out that she found Mom’s file. She didn’t have the actual file in front of her, but she confirmed that Mom did have a file.
We all knew she did, it was just nice to know that it’s real. I can’t explain. I was just happy to know that it was the right court, and they still had it. That might sound dumb, but that’s my mom’s life right there. It’s really there.
So, I mailed the form today. I read that they have 63 days to give us all of the information that they have, so we should be expecting something within the next two months. I don’t think it’s going to take that long (I hope). Laura warned us that, at that time, there wasn’t a lot of information given. She said Mom’s file might just contain her time of birth and the health of the mother. Mom’s fine with that. At least she’ll know something. Who knows? Mom might get lucky, and there might be more than that.
Mom’s ready. I am too. Her side of my tree is looking a little bare.
I feel half empty. I can’t image how my mother feels, being completely empty. Hopefully, that’s about to change.