The (Real) Start

Okay. So I have searched many, many times. All attempts fruitless. One incident left me empty and determined to give up for good. I think my final attempt left the door open (it did), but I never got a nibble, and I gave up. Tonight, I found three avenues during a Google search:

• http://www.cousinconnect.com/d/a/142370
• http://www.adopteeconnect.com/d/a/142370
• http://www.adopteeconnect.com/perl/contactform.cgi?site=ac&id=142370

Geez, one search, done almost five years ago, and no bites. I'd wrestled. I'd given up. But then one day, several days ago, my almost-17-year-old approached me, very seriously, and asked if I would be willing to open my adoption papers so he could learn about his genealogy. He was interested in knowing his genealogical inheritance...what kinds of medical history did he have? I tried to brush him off. When he persisted, I said, "Okay. Conduct an Internet search and tell me how I should go about opening sealed adoption records--but don't expect anything. He found my 2007 query. (Sigh)

Funny, I believe...I KNOW...I have experienced the spirituality of life. I will think about someone I have not been in contact with for a while and all of a sudden, hear about them, see them...something. Not much is coincidental. Everything is connected. The same day my son confronted me I received a Facebook message from a cherished and trusted friend, who read a blog post of mine from blog I record in for my children. She happened to dig a bit deeper into my musings and found "My Name is Hannah," a post I submitted two years prior (the first post of this blog). She was moved by my reflection and wondered, had I searched? should I search? Hmmm. Ok.

The next day, my son left me a note reminding me to call the local court house and inquire about the steps I should take to have sealed records opened. I did and was told I would receive the proper form in the mail and that I would need to take it to the court house in the town I was adopted in. Alright. That night I raised the topic to my husband who made no hast to encourage me to begin searching again. We then watched a rented movie, "Killer by Nature," about a young man who discovers he is an adopted son whose biological father is in jail for being a murderer. Oh, boy. 

After I gathered my wits, and a bit more conversation with my hubby, my conclusion was...if I was to search, I would write a book about it. Heck, why not a blog to start with? (Because who knows? This time could prove to be as disappointing as all the others.) There were quite a bit of spiritual "coincidences" going on.

So, this is the purpose of this blog. To record the journey...if there is a journey, that is. My adoptive mother and father cannot know. To know would devastate them. My husband asked, "What are you afraid of?" I am afraid of the impact it will have on their lives first and foremost. Second, I am afraid of the impact it might have on others' lives who have no idea I exist. I am afraid no one knows there's a me. And third, I do not want to lose me. I am content. I thought it best to not know. I thought if I was meant to be found, I would have been found.

(Deep breath in. Super-deep breath out.) Here I go. Today I read the request to petition I received in the mail. I do not remember what it said because the frantic butterflies in my stomach made me feel ill.

I will read it again tomorrow.

Hannah (AKA ~Laurie)

My Name is Hannah (a repost of two years ago)

Hannah Lise Carey. I do not know if my name is spelled correctly. I have never actually seen it in writing. I only know how it sounds. Han-na Leese Care-ee. I do not have a mother. I do have a mom. Her name is Judy and oh-how-I-love-her. I love my mother, too, even though I do not have one. Ooooh...I have one. I just do not know her. But I want to. So much. Sometimes I ache for her. My ache led me to search for her many times, but my searches were futile. I dream that one day she will find me. Then my mom will not resent me for finding her. It won't be my fault. I want to know my biological mother, but I do not want to hurt my birth mom.

I'm going to be 45 this year. Isn't it time we meet? Isn't it time our lives make sense? Isn't it time the voids be filled? I know my mother feels a void. If I let one of my three treasures go, I would feel a deep, dark, emptiness; an incompleteness. Surely she must miss me. She named me. She baptized me. Mothers who plan to put their children up for adoption do not do this. Perhaps she meant to keep me and then realistically could not.

My mom told me my mother was a student close to getting her nurse's cap. My father (who I apparently inherited astigmatism from--thanks father o' mine) left before I was born. My mother wanted me to have a life better than the one she had--did not want to raise me as a single mother as her mother had her. I respect her decision. I am not mad. But sometimes, like tonight, when I am reminded of mortality, I am sad. She does not know she has three perfect, radiant, impressive grandchildren and she will never witness the indelible mark they will leave on this world. I want to so badly to share this experience with her. To see her smile of approval. I want her to see how hard I work to...just to. I want her to tell me my heart and my drive, and my passion, and my optimism, and my dreams (and my German-thighs, and my way-too-premature gray hair, and my hazel eyes), come from her and that all is good and will be good. Because sometimes I just need to know I'm a good person. It would be nice to know that someone truly understands me. I just want to be part of something REAL, like my children are a part of me.

I want them to know who they are because I do not want them to age like me: I am afraid I will never completely know who I am.

~Hannah (AKA ~Laurie)