My Search for my Birth Mother

As many of you know, I am adopted.  I am very proud to be adopted and I am very blessed to have the parents and family that I do.  They have been nothing but absolutely incredible and supportive in everything that I have done and do.  My parents are beautiful; they came to every sports event, every choir concert and everything in between.  They have done it with smiles on their faces and nothing but encouragement.  My parents taught me to work hard and do my best in everything I try.  They taught me patience and care, they showed me what it is to love unconditionally.  I learned acceptance of all people through the trials my family have been through and I was raised in a church that has brought me peace in knowing that Christ the Savior is always there with an extended hand in my times of need.  

My parents always told me that I was adopted.  I remember the day when I realized what adoption was.  My mom and I were sitting in her bed, we had recently moved to our current house in Alpine, meaning I was at least 8 years old.  My mom was talking to me about the struggle her and dad had getting pregnant, that her body wasn't able to hold a baby.  She explained how they adopted Kara and that they knew they wanted another baby.  She told me that they had to wait for me in a different way than most parents; they had to wait for someone else to have a baby and be willing to give that baby to a family to care for.  When my birth mother chose my parents, the agent passed on the information that I should be in their arms before Christmas.  My parents were thrilled, they got everything ready; the crib, clothes, bottles, everything that comes with a baby.  When Christmas came and went and they still didn't have me, my mom got frustrated and thought I wasn't coming.  She got rid of the crib and clothes.  

My situation was different than expected.  I was born November 23, but my parents didn't get to bring me home until February.  I stayed in foster care for those three months. My birth father had fled the state when he was told about the pregnancy, moved cross country with his parents.  In the book of records that I have, my birth mother says that he pushed for an abortion early in the pregnancy, that he didn't want to claim me as his own and that he wouldn't sign the papers to release me to be adopted.  What is interesting about this, is that we know that he himself is adopted; a twin in fact, separated at birth through adoption.  Regardless of his situation, he wanted nothing to do with me.  For many years, I struggled with that.  I would wonder why on earth someone would be so apprehensive on something that is so beautiful.  Life, adoption, giving to someone else who cannot have children of their own.  In a way, it made me feel unappreciated and I questioned why my birth mother went through with something so difficult without the support of a significant other.  Especially knowing that she already had a daughter, who was about 3 at the time.  I have come to forgive my birth father.  I don't know his story or his situation, and it took me awhile to come to forgiveness, but it doesn't matter what he feels.  Because I am here, I am in a family that loves me and supports me.  

Fast forward to when Scott and I were pregnant with Melia, our oldest daughter.  We were so excited, so ready to meet this little girl.  We had no idea what to expect, but we knew that we loved her.  Throughout my entire pregnancy, I wondered what similarities I had with my birth mother.  I was always told that pregnancies are much like your mothers.  I wondered what she must have felt when it came time to deliver.  Then, when I delivered Melia, the moment I saw her, I knew she was mine.  I knew that the love I felt in that moment, which was limitless, would only grow somehow.  As I rested and recovered from delivery, I wondered how my birth mother felt in that day she delivered me.  She didn't want to see or hold me.  I went straight to the nursery.  The next day she changed her mind and came to see me.  I, being a mother now, can't even imagine being away from my child, especially right after delivery,  Emotions are high and even though she knew that she was carrying someone else's child, she must have felt connected.  

Connection is an interesting thing, really.  My whole life, I have felt connected somehow to my birth mother.  I know practically nothing about her.  I know her height, age, hair and eye color.  That's all I ever knew about her. Yet somehow, I knew part of her.  I felt her.  Who knows if she ever thinks of me, or if she remembers my birthday, but part of me is with her.  I guess that is why I have always wanted to search for her.  When Scott and I got married, I started my search almost immediately.  I called adoption agencies all over Utah, Connecticut (where I was born), New Jersey (where my foster home was) and New York.  Each time I called, they sent me to another agency, usually one I had already tried to call.  I was being sent in circles over and over again. I was getting deflated and frustrated.  For years, I kept a note on my computer with the different addresses and phone numbers of these adoption agencies and just kept trying with the same results.  Then something changed. 

Christmas 2015, my parents got Kara and I both DNA kits from 23andMe.  We both immediately did the test and sent it in for results.  Results came back in February of 2016 and I started my search all over again.  In the following summer, 23andMe made it possible for you to connect with DNA relatives and they gave an estimate of what relation you might have.  I found 2nd and 3rd cousins on their system and sent them messages explaining a little bit of my story.  Two people responded; one of which that ended up being quite helpful.  He spoke with me and helped me try to find connections to his family.  Which we found!  We just weren't really sure how it tied to my birth mother.  We were able to distinguish that our relationship must tie in through my maternal side because my birth father's ethic background didn't match any of his family history.  We spoke several times over the course of a year and a half to find what we did.  This past summer, he told me of a law that was recently passed in Connecticut that would allow me to receive my unaltered birth certificate from the hospital I was born in.  I did that once I had all the information I needed.  When I got my birth certificate, it gave me my birth mother's full name, her birthdate and other crucial information that would lead us to find her online.  Scott was able to find an address and phone numbers.  We tried calling the numbers we had with no luck so I wrote her a letter and sent it to the address we found in June.  

A month passed and I hadn't heard anything back.  I really was okay with that.  I wrote her a letter expressing my gratitude for what she gave me and told her a little bit about my life.  I figured if she wanted contact, she would contact me.  As time kept passing, I started to feel like the letter was never received.  I hadn't heard back from her or anyone else in the family.  From what I know, I was certain I would at least hear back from my grandmother.  After all, she had wanted to adopt me herself and she came to visit me while I was in the foster home.  She had written letters that we received while I was still a baby which she expresses her desire to meet me when I am older and have a family of my own.  So I know she wants contact.  I did my best to forget about the letter and live life.  

Well here we are, mid September.  We had a really big, busy week last week with Scott's younger brother, Dallin, getting married.  Family was in town, we did something together every night.  After the wedding on Friday, most of the Christensen family went back home to Georgia.  Ted and Stephanie stayed through Sunday night.  With our Saturday evening open and family still here, we went to dinner with Ted and his siblings and our cousins.  I sat next to Uncle Stephen.  He married into the family to Dawnette.  Partway through dinner, he asked if I was adopted and asked to hear my story.  Not realizing that he has work as a private investigator and that he loves to do family genealogy, I told him my story and where I was at.  He asked me if he could look more into my journey, do some family history and PI work.  I was thrilled, I was shocked!  Yes, of course, I told him all I knew and sent him the information when we got home from dinner.  In what seemed like no time at all, he called me with information.  He was able to find MORE information than we had, including more recent addresses and phone numbers.  We were able to start building a family line and before we knew it, it was 1:00am.  We closed down our operation and went to bed.  During Sacrament meeting the next morning, I got a text from Stephen saying, "We're related!"  He had gotten right back to building my family line when he woke in the morning.  Stephen had told me about how as he slept, the spirit spoke to him on how to find my ancestors.  My ancestors are his ancestors.  He was guided to our common ancestor and was able to track down my grandfather's obituary, which gave him the names of all my birth mother's sisters and her brother.  It also gave us the name of his wife, whom we believe is a second wife. 

With this extra confirmation, I used the advice of Ted, Stephen and Andy to look up the ward she is living in and try and locate her that way.  Once we found her ward, I called the bishop and left him a message explaining my situation.  He called me back and looked up her records.  She is inactive, which she states in her papers I have from my adoption, but he was able to find her.  We confirmed, yet again, the address that she is at and a phone number.  The bishop and I spoke briefly and he wished me good luck in my search.  I called the number I confirmed with the bishop and it went to voicemail.  I hung up! 

Today, I called the number again.  I left a voicemail simply saying my name, that I am looking to get in contact, and to call me back.  I have not heard back, but I am praying that she has an open heart.  She doesn't yet know who I am and why I am wanting to reach her.  But I have called.  I have given her the information she needs to reach me.  I am not sure where I am at.  I am nervous, I am excited, and I don't know what to expect.  It's just all sorts of crazy.  Who knows what will happen.  I would like for her to call me back.  I don't know if she ever received my letter or not, but now for certain, I have reached her.  Now, it's a waiting game.