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Englewood, CO

Joie de VIVre

Family, friends, daily experiences.

VIV Moment

At the age of 3 months, I had the good fortune to be adopted into a wonderfully loving and supportive family. I had always been aware of the fact that I was adopted. My family shared freely what little information they had regarding my natural parents and the situation surrounding my adoption. And although I love my family and enjoyed a privileged upbringing, I often felt a sense of loneliness, discomfort in my own skin, and a large lack of self assurance. I carried the belief that when I reached the legal age, 18 in the state where I was born, I would take the necessary steps to seek out information with regard to my natural mother.

That time came and went. In the back of my mind, I asked myself, “What if I can’t find her? What if she doesn’t want to meet me? What if she never mentioned the fact that she gave up a child to her current family? What if she was dead?” My fears were paralyzing in nature. At the age of 25, while returning from visiting my family, I had the inclination to stop by the Kansas State Capital building in Topeka to retrieve my original birth certificate with my birth name and my natural mother’s name.

It was time to start my search. When I reached the records department, I filled out a simple form and in return I received a copy of my original birth certificate as well as a sheet of paper listing local agencies that assist in finding adopted children and families. One of these agencies was one block away. What could it hurt to see what’s involved? I thought. My knees were shaking as I filled out the forms on my lap. I felt like I didn’t answer many of the questions asked, but apparently it was enough.

Approximately 2 weeks after I had submitted my form, I received a call from a social worker stating that she had found my natural mother and she was interested in meeting me. I could not contain my excitement. I thought it over and over in my head.

Now I could come face to face with a woman that will resemble me. She could answer questions about my heritage, my family history, etc. The laundry list of questions grew larger with each passing moment. Once my natural mother’s information was provided to me, I wrote her a letter. After all, that’s a much softer approach than a phone call stating, “Hi, I’m your long-lost daughter.” I gave a brief description of my upbringing, schooling, places I’ve lived, my profession, etc.

My letter was returned hardly a week later with a much-welcomed phone call. We spoke for about an hour, reviewing my letter’s contents and hearing an overview of her past 25 years, and then we came to the conclusion that we had to meet. She informed me that she would drive here in a couple of weeks to meet me. We chose a day and time to meet at her hotel. The day came quickly and I was prepared to meet my mother. My husband, on the other hand, was about to have a heart attack — he was so excited. I felt calm, cool, and collected; the hard part was over. She was alive. She did want to meet me. The rest was just a perk package.

When we arrived at her hotel, I knocked and waited as I heard scuffling on the other side of the door. Slowly the door opened and I saw a reflection of myself. We had the same eyes, the same cheeks, the same chin, and the same overjoyed smile to be in each others company. At that very moment, my loneliness, my insecurity, my lack of self assurance faded from me. I was complete.

I’ve had the pleasure of keeping in contact with her and have seen her a couple times since. We have a relationship more like friends than anything else, which is even more than I had sought. I feel extremely fortunate that my adoption story has ended so well, as I know many that do not. I accept this gift with pleasure and will treasure it always.

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