Roses are red
Violets are blue
I could eat scones all day
Lunch, dinner, and breakfast, too!

"If you like Pina Coladas,
And getting caught in the rain.
If you're not into yoga,
If you have half-a-brain.
If you like making love at midnight,
In the dunes of the cape"

When I was four days old I ceased to be "Baby Girl" and became "Kelli."

My birth mother, or biological mother ("Bio-Mom") if you prefer, was not in a position to take care of me the way she felt I should be taken care of. (Did you know you can get pregnant the "first time?") My adopted mother and father, "Mom" and "Dad" for those of you playing along, were unable to become pregnant and were waiting to adopt a baby.

I can't imagine how difficult it was for Bio-Mom to make such a choice, especially now that I have a child of my own. Bio-Mom made this decision on her own, and became closer to her mother during her pregnancy.

A few months after my arrival, Mom and Dad discovered that they were pregnant. I've heard that is not an unusual phenomena. Later that year, my sister "Dit" arrived. She and I are alike in that both of us have a genetic makeup that is entirely unique, neither pair of our biological parents ever had any other children. Rather than see ourselves as pleasant surprises, we saw ourselves as "mistakes" or people that weren't supposed to happen.

Skip forward a bit and we find that Mom and Dad divorced. Now it was down to just the three of us.

I guess it wasn't until I was about 13 years old that I started wondering about my Bio-Mom. Did she think about me? Did she remember my birthday? Why did she give me up? Is she married? Did she marry Bio-Dad? Do I have other brothers and sisters? What was her family like? Had we ever both been in the same place and the same time and not realized it?

When in crowds, I'd scan faces, looking for similarities. I was told several times that I "look just like" so and so. It always made me wonder if I had a twin living in a nearby city.

In my more self-pitying moments I would go through the "three out of four parents left me, woe is me" mental exercises.

When I turned 20 years old, I attempted to take control of my life. I researched and finally signed up with a different auto insurance company, I moved in with Hubby, and I decided to find Bio-Mom.

I rationalized it as "Well, now that I'm an adult and living with my boyfriend, there are some things I should know if Hubby and I get married and want to start a family. I'm interested in knowing my medical history."

The real motivation: "I'm very curious and I want to try to find her and talk to her and ask her questions, even if it is only a one time thing. I've had these questions inside too long. It's time to begin the search. And, I would like to know my medical history."

I would need my Mom's help for this. I realized it would be a sticky situation and knew that she might not be emotionally ready for me to search out my Bio-Mom. Once I set my mind on something though, I want to follow it through right this minute. Especially if it's something I've been thinking about for years and years.

Mom was great. She told me everything she knew about Bio-Mom. Soon after that, I wrote to the records department of the hospital I was born at and talked to someone at a "Truth In Adoption" agency (they reunite mothers and the children they put up for adoption). I let my fingers do the walking in the white pages. I looked up the last name we had for her (knowing that it was very probable that she was married now) and photo-copied those pages from the phone book. I began calling the names listed while on my lunch hour at work, and then more names at home at night. I left a lot of messages on answering machines asking for any information on the family that used to or does own a particular business in the area, explaining that we had lost touch with one of the daughters of that family. I left my phone number and name with each person I contacted.

I realized this may not work, but I wanted to exhaust all my resources before I opted to pay the annual $150 fee to "Truth In Adoption" for them to keep my name on a list for a year.

Thursday night of the first week of my search, I called more names, and left more messages. It was getting late by "strange phone calls to people I don't know" standards, and opted to call the remaining names on my list Friday during lunch.

One gruff sounding gentleman I contacted said that I had called and left a message at his house the night before. I quickly apologized and he asked me what I was looking for, explaining that he knew the geneology of his family going all the way back to the East coast. I got a bit flustered and haltingly repeated my story.

Me: I'm looking for a woman named "Lacey."
Gruff: I have a daughter named Lacey.
Me: She would be about 38-40 years old.
Gruff: Yes, that is about her age.

He started to comment again then stopped in mid-sentence. He was silent for a couple of seconds (which seemed like hours to me) while I struggled to find something to say and feared saying anything at all. I didn't breathe.

One one-thousand...
Two one-thousand...
Three one-thousand...

Finally, the now serious voice on the other end of the line said "Ohhhh. I think I know why you're calling." The inner Kel fainted dead away. The outer Kelli white-knuckled the phone and realized she hadn't planned what to do when she found her.

Gruff: I may be able to help you out with this. What is your name again?
Me: Kelli J. Bean
Gruff: Give me a number where you can be reached and I'll call you back.

I somehow managed to stammer out the number and I hung up the phone.

I sat back in my chair as reality just crashed in on me. I may have just spoken to my Bio-Grandfather.

current entry
previous
next

one year ago