The Best Gifts . . .

are the ones we didn't expect.

I was recently found. I certainly wasn’t lost, but my existence was unbeknownst to some significant people in my life. So, here’s the back story ~

At birth, I was given up for adoption. My mother was 17 when she had me and she knew she could not provide the kind of life she wanted for me. My adoptive parents were stationed in California where I was born. I was placed in their care at four months old and one year later I was legally theirs forever. They tried to explain to me that I was adopted when I was very young, but it didn’t quite register. When they again told me at ten years old, I got it. I was a happy camper. I felt blessed that I didn’t grow up in the system and instead had wonderful parents who loved me. I never felt abandoned, nor did I ever feel like I missed out on anything because I didn’t know my “real” parents. I understand that not every adoptee feels this way, and that is okay, but this is my story. My family had the normal dysfunctions common to most families, we were far from perfect, but pretty darn close to ideal.

Although I wondered about my birth parents, I never really had a desire to find them. My identity has never been dependent on who these people were or are. I embraced who I was as a child of God and the heritage I received from the parents who raised me. Once when I was nursing my older daughter, I wondered if my mother had ever had the chance to hold me like I was holding my firstborn. I always had a sense that her choice to give me up was for the most unselfish reasons and for that I wanted to thank her. And now I’ve been able to do just that.

Considering I was born in the 60’s, it’s unusual that I had quite a bit of identifying information about my legal identity before adoption. Not knowing how accurate the information was, I decided to take a test. So, a few years ago, I spit into a tube and sent it off to find out. Some of the information was spot on, but there was so much more to my ethnicity than I could have imagined.

Fast forward to March of this year. I received a message from someone who also took the DNA test, and we were matched as a first cousin or closer. We exchanged some information and to our amazement and delight, we discovered that we are half-sisters. Because we both grew up as only children, to say we are excited to have a sibling is an understatement. She did not know about me. Our mother had told her husband, (my sister’s father), about me, but they never felt it necessary to tell my sister. My sister being the gracious person she is, was only concerned about our mother and the heartache the silent secret brought to her life. She completely understood why they didn’t tell her, and she is very happy to know now. We’ve been chatting ever since. It has been a love fest. My mother and my sister are lovely human beings, full of kindness, thoughtfulness, and grace. I spent last week with them and their families, and it was wonderful! I look forward to spending the rest of my life getting to know them.

Amidst all the beauty in my life, I’ve experienced heartaches, tragedies, and difficulties on my journey. Sometimes I felt tested beyond my ability to cope, but with God, I miraculously made it through, and I can truthfully say I’ve come out the other side a much better version of myself. With all sincerity, I could have gone my whole life without meeting my mother and knowing I had a sister, and my life would be full and happy. Now that it has happened ~ well I cry many happy tears at this incredible blessing. I often tell God that I haven’t enough breath in my body to thank Him sufficiently for the wonderful gifts He has bestowed upon me. He brought to me my beloved Mommie and my darling sister and it was a gift I didn’t even ask for.

There is so much more to this story, but it isn’t only mine to tell. I know not everyone’s adoption story has the same joyful outcome. I’m sharing because my prayer is that my story will give others hope in their circumstances whatever they may be.