it seems that everywhere I go, there are conversations, songs, movies, images that trigger me out of nowhere. Some of the triggers, even someone with zero relation to adoption could identify why it might cause a sensitive moment, and other times I myself am surprised by the overwhelming rush of emotions.

​Last night I was watching Anne with an E on Netflix. I grew up reading Anne of Green Gables, and watched the 1980's television mini-series with my adoptive mother. I loved everything about the character Anne. She was full of imagination,  full of bravery and wasn't afraid to voice her opinion.  The way she found beauty in people, searching for kindred spirits drew me to fall in love with Anne.

When Netflix announced a new Anne of Green Gables, I wasn't sure if anyone could take the place of the 80's actress, Megan Follows, but my love for the series allowed me to give the new version a chance. Let's just say I may have watched the entire first season within a few short days. I once again fell for the red headed, dramatic girl, with a wounded soul and the kindred spirit I needed growing up.
​Last night while watching season 2, there is a scene where Anne has travelled with her bestfriend, Diana Barry, to another city to attend a party thrown by the wealthy aunt of Diana. When she returns home she is excited to share all of the details with Marilla and Matthew, the brother and sister who adopted her. As she sits at the foot of the bed ready to spill it all with Marilla, this is where I surprisingly had a wave of emotions wash over me. Before Anne can get one word out about all of the glorious details of the extravagant party, Marilla simply says, "oh Anne, I've missed you." It was Anne's honest response that made me weep. In three words, she rocked me to the core. She replied " you missed me"? It sounds silly doesn't it? That such a basic response could leave me choking on my tears. Her facial expressions, her tone of voice, said it all. She wasn't certain she was worth being missed. Had she ever known anyone to truly miss her presence? 

There's so much about Anne, that hits my own understanding about myself. I adore how she perseveres through life's ups and down, and always looks for the beauty even in the midst of pain. She makes others feel confident in her admiration of them, and at the same time can feel clouded with the thoughts she holds for herself. Orphaned early in life, bounced around from foster homes, vulnerable and abused at a young age, and over looked because of her sex and physical features, Anne says " It was a very lonely place, I am sure I never could have lived there if I hadn't an imagination." Oh my goodness, Anne! Me too! I too had imaginary friends and a wild, and vivid imagination. I thought Madonna was my mother, after all. 
​" You missed me?" Beautiful, daring, Anne with an E....you get me. You understand craving connection. You understand that longing to be loved, cherished, and not forgotten. You didn't just want kindred spirits, YOU NEEDED THEM. Me too! Me too!

It's been a while, since I've put my thoughts into written words. My children are all home for summer break, and it's harder to find some peace and quiet and to just be still with my thoughts. Last night I went to bed feeling upset and defeated by a community of people who just don't get it.
​An adoption author had post on Facebook a warning to not go see Three Identical Strangers, a documentary following the story of identical triplets, separated at birth, all adopted, and put through a private study on the impact of socioeconomic upbringing. It wasn't until they were adults that they discovered they had siblings....that they were one of three triplets . So this adoption author warns her followers not to go see this film, because it's too dark. I noticed that one of my dear friends, a former neighbor and adoptive mama, had replied to her post thanking her for helping protect adopted children and being careful not to lead them into dark places. I added to my friends post, that while I agree the story is not age appropriate for children, this film with reference to adoption trauma can absolutely be a story to teach us. Well known adoption author lady says " it is a story based on a sensational news story and involves adoptee suicide. Way too suggestive, Also, adoptive parents will not find hope there."​  I respectfully disagree that it is a "sensational story" this is real life. It really happened. We aren't speaking of fake news here when his story is shared, or we talk about the statistics being 4x greater for suicide risk in adoptees compared to non adopted people. This isn't opening ourselves to the darkside, like if we just close our eyes and ears it's not real. To me this mentality is like saying we should never look at or learn from cancer research, because it's too dark. This isn't opening ourselves to darkness, but perhaps not being afraid of looking at hard truths.
​

Here's the thing that really bothered me. It wasn't this lady or even the longtime adoption authors words that got to me. When you put yourself out there, there will always be those who question your motives and understanding. I'm used to people trying to put me in my place, for simply sharing my truths. What hurt me the most is suddenly my friend was silent. Where was she when my values were being questioned? Where was she when insults were being slung? We spent some time texting one another and she stated that my "opinions" mean a lot to her. Here we go again with " my opinions." There is actual data, statistics, spoken lived experiences of being separated from your first family, does irreversible damage and trauma, but they say it's just my opinion. I told my husband, that's like you saying that when your father passed away it hurt like hell, and someone telling you "that's just your opinion." No, it really hurts like hell...he knows, because he's lived it and continues to live with that loss.
​ 

Will the truth set me free? Here's what I know. I am no longer afraid of facing the fire in fear of being burned. I'm more willing to jump into the flames saving not only myself, but those around me. How do we find the light, without first stumbling through the darkness? there's much to be learned in the darkness.

There are phrases and " if I had a dollar for every time someone said this" moments throughout my entire adopted life. Equally the absence of what was left unsaid sent tremors throughout my years. There have been moments of sadness, confusion, anger, bravery, the sense that I need to help others understand my adoptedness, to protect the next little girl or boy with open wounds. Sometimes you don't know whether to laugh or cry, because MY reality of being adopted is so far from others perception of me being adopted.

​All the things said, and left unsaid....

1. Just be grateful.
2. You're so lucky!
3. Adoption was all a part of God's perfect plan.
4. Do you want to find your real parents?
​5. Be thankful you were not aborted.
​6. When asking an adoptive mom friend what kind of breed her dog was, she replied "a mutt, like my children."
7. You have to be careful when you adopt...you never know what you're going to get.
​8. When talking to a mom friend with four young children who was considering fostering, she joked that they'd prefer an older child to help with housework and babysitting.
9. Adopted written under my name on our family tree.
10. Your mother didn't want you.
​11. Just be happy someone did want you.
12. Your family rescued you. Lord knows what would have become of you if it weren't for adoption.
13. You probably wouldn't be a Christian had your parents not adopted you.
14. You're not blood.
​15. We are ALL adopted through Christ ( news flash *not the same*)
16. #adoptionrocks
​17.Telling me how important ethical pet adoptions are, but caring nothing for ethical human adoptions.
​18. Why would you want to look for your biological family when you have a loving family? Don't you know how much that will hurt them?
​19. I'm sorry you had a bad experience. I know plenty of adopted people who don't feel the way you do.
​20. Love makes a family not DNA. ( you forgot the AND...love AND DNA)
​21. Go get some therapy ( while I do agree we all need therapy, it's rarely said with empathy)
​22. Be careful when you do a DNA test...you never know what you're going to find.
23. After reunion... "well now all of your pieces to the puzzle have been found, now you can have peace."
24. You don't look adopted.
25. The jokes people say "you're so ugly you must be adopted"
26. You are a gift. You are chosen!

​What I wish people would have said to me or say to me now:
1. I'm sorry, it must hurt like hell.
2. Feel all the emotions. It didn't all rock.
3. You are worthy of love and belonging
4. Your DNA, your roots, your fist family....they matter!!!
5. I won't leave you.
​6. Love is without conditions
​7. God is for you, with you, and loves you. He holds you close in your broken places.
​8. Your voice matters. The good, the bad....all of it.
9. Your desire to search for family, isn't a rejection of your adoptive family. Who wouldn't want to know? Your heart has enough space for them all.
​10. I'll advocate with you...I'll fight for open records. I'll support family preservation. I'll listen and believe what you have to say is your truth.
​11. Help me to understand.
12. I understand you can’t “just get over it." That adoption is not a one time mark on your path through life, but being adopted is a lifetime experience. There will be joys, sorrows, triggers, and new awareness. That there is no start and finish line. It's ok if you circle that line of healing over, and over again. As you gain momentum and understanding , I see you becoming more brave and more beautiful than I have ever seen you before.

I'm not sure if I am the only adopted person who has thought about the comparisons of pet adoption and human adoption, but I think about it at any rate. My husband and I have adopted two rescue dogs from our local shelter. Cleo, our black Labrador Retriever went to doggy heaven a year ago and was 17 years old at her passing. Bella, our Westie is 9 years old. They have brought our family so much joy, and we consider them our family.
​ 

Now as much as we love our pets my extended adoptive family takes it to a new level. My parents at one time had five dogs, which they affectionately call their babies. When one of them passed away a few years ago, my parents fell into a heavy depression and my dad would say things like " I have nothing to live for." He was put on medication and seemed to better adjust. This hurt so badly to know that we were not as important or even more important. What about your daughters? your wife? Your amazing, and beautiful grandbabies? My father has opened up in the past that he felt like he had an unhappy upbringing and zero good childhood memories. I now understand that my fathers reactions are a mental health issue, and stem from the thoughts that he truly believes that no one can love you like a dog loves you. A dogs love is unconditional. When my father comes to my house the first thing he says, is "where are my babies?" He's referring to my dogs, and not my children. They moved to Florida, 1,180 miles away and maybe see their grandchildren once or twice a year, and my dogs get his love and attention first. The last time he came to visit he asked if I could drive his to the store so he could buy a special gift for his grand dog. It makes me want to scream.
​They are not the only ones in my family who seem to have an unhealthy relationship with dogs...meaning I believe they also share the beliefs that a humans love cannot compare to the love from our pets. Once again, I LOVE my dogs. I even adore them, BUT I also adore people. It's a subject that makes me feel like a big outsider in my family.

​Quite honestly it also bothers me that people seem to be more upset by unethical dog adoptions, than they are human beings. The following list details pet adoption ethics.

* by law puppies must stay with mother at least 8 weeks to avoid social and emotional distress and trauma ​Often times babies are adopted at birth and papers often signed while the mother is still recovering. People deny that those adopted suffer trauma from being separated from their mother and family.
​
* You must be able to provide the time and money necessary to provide training, medical treatment and proper care for the animal. ​What if when babies were adopted, part of the signed documents were a promise and dedication for adoptees mental health? Lifetime counseling?

​* Pets are not gifts They are living, breathing beings. ​And yet we tell adopted humans they are a gift, and not very many people seem to be educated or care about the rehoming of humans.

​* ​So many speak up about cruelty to animals. ​And yet never say a word, or make a facebook statement about cruelty to humans.

* They say adopt, don't shop. ​We spend thousands of dollars on adopting humans.

​I love animals, BUT I also love humans. If I were to speak out about any of these subject regarding animals, I guarantee I would find a large number of those who support these issues. When I speak up about being adopted, I'm told to get over it, move on, and you should just be grateful. I cannot even imagine the backlash of someone mistreating a dog, and the response being " well the dog should just be grateful it wasn't euthanized. The dog should just be grateful even if it struggled. Gasp!! The horror!!

​Sometimes I hug my dog ( she's not a hugger, it makes her highly uncomfortable) and I look into her big puppy eyes, and I tell her I missed my mom too. I bet you got all of your cuteness from your mama. I bet she misses you everyday, and if we could have brought her home also, we would have.
​They say that some people are born a little broken. Maybe my dad felt this way, that somethings needed fixing within him. I sometimes wonder if they thought I could fix some broken things like a marriage, a need to be loved, infertility. A baby to fill holes and broken hearts. In Glennon Doyle's book, Carry On Warrior, she says:
​If there's a silver lining to the hole, here it is: the unfillable, God-sized hole is what brings people together. I've never made a friend by bragging about my strengths, but I've made countless by sharing my weakness, my emptiness, and my life as-a-wild-goose-chase-to-find-the-unfindable. Maybe because other people are the closest we get to God on this side. So when we use them to find God in each other we become holy.

​​I cannot fix, a baby cannot fix, even a pet cannot fix what needs to be healed, but we can heal what needs to be fixed by going straight to where it hurts. Go straight to the fire, and determine what caused the burn, and know that our loved ones may not be able to fill our holes, but they can hold our hand/ paw through the journey.

Many times when I share that I am adopted, this crazy diarrhea of the mouth thing happens to the person I'm talking to. It's as if they need to fill the space of being uncomfortable. They say things like, "wow, you're so lucky"  " I wish I were adopted"  " aren't you glad you weren't aborted"  " I have a friend, of a friend, of a cousin once removed who's adopted, so I'm basically an expert on adoption"  
​The list could go on, on. There are ones that cut deeper than others and the one that really hits me in the gut is the story the church tells of adoption. 
​Me: I'm adopted
​Non Adopted person in conversation: Oh, that's wonderful, we are ALL adopted through Christ

​Wait what? So you are telling me that you and I are the same. You know exactly how it feels to be adopted? I'm so terribly confused and if I'm honest angry because NO....no no no not the same. I think people who love us want so badly to say the right thing and make us feel like we are not alone. Its like when someone dies and they are told " God must have needed them more." Diarrhea of the mouth wanting to fix and justify. God doesn't take our loved ones because He needed them more. 
​Telling an adopted person, we are ALL adopted through Christ, as if that's the same thing....as if spiritual adoption and adoption realities are the same feels like I have cancer. When I share my cancer scars, treatments, fears, pain, triumphs, battle wounds and someone with zero cancer in their body comes in with a chipper grin and declares WE ALL HAVE CANCER. We who actually have the lived experience, are like what on earth are you talking about.
​

There is a difference between a spiritual adoption and modern day adoption. 
​Let's look at the context of the word adoption used in the Bible The word adoption in the New Testament is translated from the Greek word huiothesia, which means the placing of an adult son and refers to the formal act of recognizing the maturity of an adult son. So at this time it would be considered a right of passage and the word huiothesia would bring to mind the ceremony of toga virilis, in which a fourteen year old boy would go through a ceremony with the adult male members of his family. During the ceremony the boy would take off his garments and they would be replaced with the toga virilis "the robe of man." At this milestone in the boys life he has now transitioned from boy to man. He could now conduct business in his own name, buy and sell property, marry, could vote in the Assembly.
​When God calls us adopted as sons through Jesus Christ we are promised we are loved, desired, belong. Each of us are created with a need for love and affirmation. He promises that although life may throw challenges, detours, and heartache....His love is the love of a Good, Good Father. It means you always have a place to go back to....there's no place like home.
​Often times the Bible and "God's plan" is used to create a fairytale script about adoption as if God has been using a fairytale wand and granting those desiring too be parents with a child, but zero explanation or even a care for the amputation of mother and child.

​They say Jesus was adopted! Yet Jesus was raised by his mother and God never abandoned his role of Father? Mary was never shamed or coerced to give up her baby. 

They say well Moses was adopted! Moses' birth mother "makes an adoption plan" ( remember there were no adoption papers, lawyers, money exchanged), when the king of Egypt institutes his version of ethnic cleansing. "​Every boy that is born, drown him in the Nile" Exodus 1:22 The Message.​ Tell me what would you do? Jochebed was a brave mother, and it is not very often we hear her name when we speak of adoption. She places him in a basket and sends her young daughter Miriam as a lookout. She didn't abandon her motherly instincts of protecting her child. As the story goes the Pharaohs daughter adopts Moses and when biological little sister approaches she hires Jochebed to nurse the infant. And we later find out that Moses found his birth family, reunited, and destroyed his adoptive family home. Modern day adoptees would be labeled angry and told I'm sorry you just had a bad experience.

​The really crazy thing myself and others who wrestle with the Biblical truth of what the world tell us the Bible says about adoption, is that we are all searching for that Bible verse that says take the child and forget the mother. In fact the verses I read say to help Widows and Orphans. The word adoption is found 5 times in the Bible.​ Of course we understand that there is a need for those to love and care for orphans as your own when there is abuse and neglect. Sometimes mothers don't want to mother, but the church should not be preaching that if you are unwed, young, struggle with drugs. you are poor that you are unworthy of getting help and care. It shouldn't be preaching that those waiting are entitled to your baby. Our modern day churches have taken adoption into their own translation and it says God cares for those who are infertile, but not the mother and child. We have created God's plan in adoption in our image and desires. How does care for the widow and orphan translate to paying thousands of dollars, forgetting about the mother, and getting what you want....a baby? This is an unpopular view to speak out loud, and as I type I think of those waiting, yearning, desperate and prayerful. That breaks my heart. Life would be easier with a God with a magic wand. We would never know our side of the pain of being abandoned or in the dark waiting. I'm not certain I will ever fully understand. That is the beauty in faith, because if I didn't question, if I didn't wrestle, if I had God all figured out I wouldn't need God. I do....I need God. Everyday I need him and declare Thank you! You're a Good, Good Father!

I thought about my mother my entire life. So many dreams, expectations, fantasies, and also worries that she would never want to know me. Two years ago, when my search began, I will never forget staring at her photo on Facebook, and examining every bit of her face searching to find bits of me. Could this be her? I stared at her smile, her hairline, the way the light met her eyes and even though now it seems obvious, I second guessed myself. Could I even recognize my own mother if I saw her face in a crowd? After getting second opinions from my husband and my bestfriends I became more confident that it really could be her and sent my letter off. This letter was one of the hardest things I ever have put pen to paper.  I carefully chose my words. Sound loving, but not over the top. Do not scare her away whatever you do, If I were a secret she would rather not resurface, let her know I just want some answers. What if she thought I was interrupting her life, wanted to write my way into her will, or I needed a kidney? Keep it simple with the perfect amount of emotion. Not too much, and not too little. If the answer is rejection, do not leave a phone number...just an email. Protect yourself.
​I know why I felt like I needed to tiptoe through this mine field, but if I knew then what I know now I would have been reckless with my heart. I would have told her how my heart wasn't whole without her. I wouldn't have said " I'm just looking for information." What a false statement! I should have shouted from the rooftop that I wanted a relationship with her and make her know for certain my love for her.
​

It was her! What seemed like eternity for a reply, in actuality was just a few weeks. She had never told her three grown sons about me, so she needed time to break the news to them all. I will never in my life forget the anxiety and fears rushing in my head as I dialed her number for that first phone conversation. Will she like me? What on earth will we talk about? What if she doesn't really want to know me? Was I ruining her life by reentering 40 years later? Maybe she would rather sweep it all under the rug, and call it good?
​The honeymoon period began. We had polite conversations over the phone and got to know each other on the surface. I was craving more. I wanted all of the answers, I wanted to know I was missed. I needed to know I mattered and I wanted every bit of every detail. We talked about the weather and a lot about her kids. Why didn't she ask about my family? My childhood? My feelings? Dang it! Ask about me.
​A reunion was planned and it was one of the best and most difficult times of my entire life. They had the video camera rolling for the first embrace. They threw me a birthday party with cake and balloons for all of the birthdays missed. There were " It's a Girl" signs hanging, as if they had all held their breath waiting for Baby Girl to return. It was beautiful, joyful, overwhelming, draining.....all of the things. Its a total mind %$#* to feel so happy to have my mother I yearned for back in my life, and to also accept that we were strangers.
​I thought finding the missing pieces to my puzzle would help me release the anger of being adopted. And yet I still find myself floating between belonging and lost. I find myself angry that it took me 40 years to discover who I was and where I came from. Forty years lost that can never be returned. It makes me feel guilt that I'm not content with the story of being chosen, lucky and loved. Angry that the world believed I would never be affected by the loss of my first family. I was "touched by adoption" and it just keeps slapping me in the face.
​I've waited my whole life to have my mother back, and even when its hard and I am afraid, I will always choose to be a part of her life ( and I will walk on eggshells hoping she wants to stay in my life)
A Thousand Years
Christina PerriHeart beats fast
Colors and promises
How to be brave
How can I love when I'm afraid to fall
But watching you stand alone
All of my doubt, suddenly goes away somehow
One step closer
I have died everyday, waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more
Time stands still
Beauty in all she is
I will be brave
I will not let anything, take away
What's standing in front of me
Every breath, every hour has come to this
One step closer
I have died everyday, waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more
And all along I believed, I would find you
Time has brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more
One step closer
One step closer
I have died everyday, waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more
And all along I believed, I would find you
Time has brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

They say adoption rocks, and no matter how many times I read it, it feels like I swallowed a rock. No matter how many times I say I understand where you are coming from, I hear you​, you love your child. You've waited and prayed so long for this child. Being a family at last rocks, and you want to shout it from the roof tops. I get it. I hear you. And yet you continue to not hear me. When I tell you I love my family, but I ached for my mother and thought there must have been something wrong with me. That didn't rock. Making up stories in your head of what your own mother and father looks like, why they gave you to strangers, wondering if you'll ever know any answers to the million questions you have floating in your child-mind. Its a lonely feeling, and it didn't rock. Searching for love in any way shape and form as a teenager is sad, gosh its so sad and it certainly didn't rock.
​

I look at this photo, and I think maybe those rocks are what get in our way of being fully known, fully seen, and fully loved. The things that hinder our hearts, minds and souls. Its the expectations slung at us that adoption is only beautiful. You should feel nothing but grateful and an attitude of being lucky. Adoptive parents know it doesn't always rock....they know. The countless hours of worry, paperwork, praying you are doing the right, ethical thing, Be honest, its hard, and maybe even right now you are thinking I don't like this girl. I like my rocks. I like to be comfortable. The rocks you are throwing out there are these Pinterest perfect version of the expectations of what an adoptive mama looks like. Let them go.
​Can you imagine if we had this collective rock chucking party? Hey you pretty adoptee.... I see you. Pick up that rock that says you are not worthy of love and understanding and chuck it with a good ole' primal roar. Sweet adoptive mama who desperately wants to get it right,,,, I see you.....I could weep because I'm so thankful for you. See that rock there that says everything has to be beautiful, perfect, and you are in control? Pick that sucker up and chuck it so far. You want to scream? Do it! Oh dear birthmama....I see you. I see the amour you put on to protect your head and heart. That big rock there that says you have to be brave and unselfish. It's heavy, but pick it up and toss it. you don't have to carry that anymore.

So one by one they tossed their rocks, and the water flowed.
They tossed their expectations and the grace flowed.
They tossed their shame and vulnerability flowed.
​They tossed their fears and they found their brave..oh how it flowed.
​They tossed control and faith flowed into the crevices.
​They tossed their hurt and wounds and love overflowed.

​And guess what? When they tossed their rocks there was this magnificently, beautiful ripple that appeared in the water that flowed. Be the ripple, not the rock.

Let it flow. Let it go. Let it flow

​So does adoption rock? I'm chucking that rock, and I'm asking you to join me. Your family rocks. Forget about the followers, the pinterest worthy statuses
​When we know better, we do better.
#loverocks
#familyrocks
#tacosrock

Two years ago I received my birth records, and found my birthmother within 4 weeks. The information under father said only his birthdate, and UNKNOWN. ​My heart sank when I read this because I honestly believed I would be finding ALL of the missing pieces. Did someone actually believe that this was ok to withhold this from me? Adoption....secrets, lies, fear, deception.
​Within months of contacting my mother, we scheduled a reunion. It was everything made for a Hallmark movie. The video setting was ready to capture that first embrace, there were tears and love overflowing. There were new relationships and memories forming. It was beautiful and heartbreaking all at once, but then I went straight to the point and asked about my father. Then there was awkwardness, quiet avoidance, and skirting around the subject. I took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in my throat deciding it was too risky to rock the boat. I don't want to lose everything I've worked so hard for. My mother has been found, she wants a relationship with me, and we will get to my father later. She just needs time.
​
On my last day of a week long reunion ( I know that's a loooonnnggg time for a first meeting) my mothers husband asked if we could have a private conversation. My mother quietly sat by while her husband told me " we understand if you want to find your father, but we do not wish to be a part of it, and we would hope that you do that in private". He added that when I really think about it, it's my mother I have probably thought of all of these years anyway. ​Whoa!?!?! Wait? What?​ ​​I cried, and thanked him for his love and support of my mother, but inside I was deeply hurting. It was the only time during my reunion that I wanted to slip back to my hotel room, and sit alone in my feelings That of course did not happen, so I had to put on a happy mask and disguise my true feelings ( adoptees are pretty good at this).
​What I wish I was brave enough to say was DO NOT tell me who I thought of or didn't think of. What if the shoe was on the other foot, and it was you who was kept away from your sons? Would it be ok then, because you're just the father? Did you never think of your father?
​
So I am a stubborn girl and I decided FINE, you don't want to help me, then I will do it all by myself. I am so used to going at it alone. I had his birthdate and my mothers sister in law had slipped the name Gary. She had told me that she wanted me to know my father loved my mother very much. She shared with me that my grandfather told lies about my father to keep him away. My father had wrote many letters to my mother and my grandfather threw them all away. She has no idea that he fought hard to talk with her father, to share his feelings and love. My grandfather had made his decision. His daughter would not be a part of Gary's life and either would I. I started searching online anyone with the name Gary, the same birthdate, and anyone who lived within a four state area. I wrote random Gary's letters saying.... I know this is crazy, but could you be my dad? No responses. I was like a crazy, stalking weirdo. I eventually decided to take my chances with a DNA test. I carefully calculated the perfect amount of saliva and prayed that the spit would lead me to my father. 7 weeks later, and much detective work on my part, I found Gary....my Gary...my father. I did it!

​He received my letter, and in the same week it was sent I was talking with my father over the phone. I wish I could adequately share with you the love and excitement in his voice as he shared with me how happy he was to have been found. He said I was never a secret, and that he always thought of me telling friends and family somewhere out there I have a daughter. The best news was that his home was only 1 hour away from my adoptive family who had just moved to Florida. How perfect is that? I can visit my parents and meet my father, so I planned a trip.
​My adoptive mother was very hurt when I found my mother that I did not include her in on every detail. We weren't exactly close, and I've always needed to protect myself from her hurtful words. My main concern was that I didn't want to hurt her. I decided to be more open and sharing with my adoptive parents while navigating meeting my father. We had great talks about my fears, and the feelings I always had growing up, but they could have never known about because I stayed quiet to guard their heart. They were loving, supportive, and I felt an extreme amount of guilt that I had not trusted them with my heart the first time around meeting my mother. My adoptive parents really wanted to meet Gary, but inside I was still cautious, and wondered could Gary and I truly be ourselves and have the conversations I wanted to have with my parents present? I was in full on good adoptee daughter mode wanting to not hurt them and please them so we all traveled to my birthfathers home together. I worried the whole car ride there if my mother would say something inappropriate, would she be judgmental or was I worrying for no reason? On the car ride there my mother passes me her phone to show me some photos that she had collected to share with Gary. Beautiful baby photos, sweet little pig tail photos throughout my childhood, and memories up into the present. There was one photo that I just looked horrible in....dreadful jr high years with big bangs and chubby cheeks. Embarrassed I said, "oh please don't show this one, its awful". We arrive and my mother video tapes every move we make, it's a relief to wrap my arms around him, but I know we both feel like we are under a microscope and this is not how I pictured this meeting happening. My mother whips out her phone, and she shares one photo, extending her arm and giggling. It wasn't that she shared the photo I asked her not to share. I would be totally vain, and if my father truly loves me he is going to love any photo of me, right? It was that she ONLY showed that one photo which felt like to spite me. No beautiful baby photos, no heartfelt thank you for giving us such a precious gift, just that one photo and I wanted to cry.
​Gary calls me all of the time, just to talk about nothing or tell me a story. He wrote me a 10 page letter sharing about his life and he was so open and honest I felt like I've always known him. He isn't perfect, in fact he's a little rough around the edges, but that's what I love most about him. He trusts me with it all. Reunion is not for the faint of heart and I'm not certain I prepared myself to be cut open for all to see. There is beauty, heartache, raw emotions, and I'm leaning heavily on grace.
When my adoptive mother came to KC for a visit this fall she stated that her and my adoptive father have decided​ if Gary wants to be a part of my life, he would need to come visit me....not me always going to see him. I am a grown adult....and they have decided. Are you kidding me? Not to mention I've met him once. There's no track record of me only putting in the effort and not him. Not to mention this is none of their business. She then added..."he didn't look at your photos very well". She has so much fear, that she stirs the pot with a big ol' spoon of he doesn't really love you. ​I thought the love of a mother would come along side me and say look how he looks at you, of course he loves you, who wouldn't.
​​I hope Gary can feel my love and know within his heart that his daughter never gave up. He was that important and he is more than enough. We both are.

I'm so frustrated with the voices that say you must choose OR thinking. I could just pull every hair out of my head because its everywhere you go.
​Gun lover or banish all guns from the face of the earth....take them all.
Immigrant or terrorist to be feared
Democrat or Republican
​Conservative or Liberal
Left or Right
​Saved by grace or only if we've earned it ( whatever hoop to jump through you want to label)
​Kneel or don't kneel. Patriotic or guilty of Nationalism
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​You get my point. The world says you are one OR the other. We couldn't possibly believe that there should be sensible gun control and the rights to protect oneself. We must choose that the problem is mental illness OR a gun problem. How about we have a gun problem and we want those with mental illness to get the help they need AND in the mean time lets make it more difficult for someone to get their hands on a gun if they have mental illness.
Let's consider that it is possible to love America AND understand that God doesn't just bless America. When the Bible says " For God so loved the WORLD, that He gave his one and only son" I think the key words to take away are loved AND world.
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I could really get fired up and going on about a lot of these scenarios but I'm going to move on to adoptionland. I'm going to point out the problems with OR thinking and how if we look a little closer, take down our defenses we can see things a little differently. We'll call this the ability to show up and break down the walls that say you can't be seen or heard.

1. You must choose be for OR against adoption.
​Why can I not be able to see that in some cases adoption is for the best case of the child but there are also many times adoption occurs unethically or a permanent decision is made for a temporary problem.
2.​ Adopted OR destined for abortion.
​Oh my goodness....how many times as an adoptee are we told this.....be thankful you were not aborted. Excuse me!?!? Abortion is not the alternative to adoption for many women. Parenting is.
​3. I'm grown in a heart OR a tummy
​I grew in both of my mothers hearts AND in one tummy. I'm not confused about how I was born and to whom loved me.
4. Grateful or ungrateful
​Stop with this. I am grateful my mother gave me life. I am full of gratitude for the love and support of my adoptive family. Here comes the AND​... and I am aware and sensitive to the trauma I experienced and continue to experience from being severed from my first family.
5. I'm a gift or a shameful burden
​Well which is it? This one is so painful to dissect. The world told my mother that because she had a child out of wedlock she is a sinner, she's not enough, she's probably on drugs, a whore and embarrassment to the family. But oh how the tide changes when she decides to make an adoption plan. Hopeful adoptive parents sing her praises and point out her BRAVE LOVE. Adoption agencies tell her that her baby deserves more than she can give her. All of a sudden this subject of embarrassment is a beautiful gift. Sigh! Wasn't I always the gift? I do believe you when you call her brave...so much brave...but would you call her that if she chose to parent also?
​6. God's plan or God sits with us in our pain
​I do not believe that I was set apart by God to be destined to life without my first family. God weeps with myself and my family. We were not part of some divine plan that blesses one mother over another. Sometimes in life we feel the need to justify everything. Someone dies and people say God needed him more. No. Infertility happens and suddenly their is a calling from God to adopt. God placed adoption on their hearts. No. They say God knew I needed you. Listen, there are tragedies, there is heartache, AND God doesn't cause our ashes. God is the author of love and like a loving father he hurts when we hurt.

​7.​ Joy or sorrow. Beauty or ashes
There are no rules for grief. Can we get this one straight? You can stop telling adoptees to "get over it". No, no,no! It's ok to smile, laugh, sing, dance, rejoice AND....AND its totally understandable to have sorrow, to lament, to have sadness. I write my own story and I dance my own dance.
​" Maybe it's okay if it takes time to be okay. Maybe healing is a road that is paved with endless grace" Morgan Harper Nichols
​​Take your time and be gentle with yourself dear one. You can choose AND
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This past week I said goodbye to my grandfather. I was able to be with him that morning as he took his final breaths. He shared how much he loves us and how proud of us he was. Oh the joy he must have to be with grandma once again. I can picture the look on his face and the sigh of relief to see his beautiful bride. I'm not certain what heaven is like, but I assume its like coming home, like the smell of an apple pie baking in the oven, like the warmest ray of light that you can feel from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet, like a blanket of love or the tightest hug that never lets go. I just know it's amazing and everything my grandfather deserves.
​Life and death intertwined. On the day my grandfather passed away, my sister's first grandbaby was born, New life that says just when you thought you knew what love is, something little comes along to remind you just how big it really is. Kind of like finding my birth family these last couple of years. To be honest I hate giving any subtitles. They are family.....they a part of me and I a part of them.  I'm a part of two families, and they a part of me and honestly speaking it can be beautiful, frightening, complex, astonishing , and confusing. It's not this or that. It's everything.
​When my great grandmother passed away nineteen years ago, the family gathered to divvy up her belongings. I remember there were arguments over who deserved what, and hurt feelings over not getting what they felt they deserved. This was the side of my family that had made comments about myself not being "blood", wrote adopted under my name in the family tree, and excluded me from generational family photos. You might say I felt like the black sheep of the family. I just wanted my grandmothers love, not her things. I let them fight it out and only took what others didn't want. It's a strange feeling to feel like the outsider looking in to your own family. My grandmother had the best laugh....light, airy, and contagious. I know she loved me dearly, life is just complicated. 
​With my grandfather passing this week, and family going through his belongings those feeling come back. Take the leftovers....go to the back of the line. A few weeks ago one of my biological uncles added me to a family webpage. I'm of course a late joiner. The conversations going on for years and I'm just catching up. Some of these family members might not even know who the heck I am. Where do I belong? Here or there....or is it here AND there? I'm like a tree without roots and I'm desperate to feel grounded.
​At my grandfathers funeral the priest talked about 90% of life, is just showing up. I spend much of my time being distraught over who doesn't show up. I think we all are guilty of this, but for us "lucky chosen" ones, it's extremely hard to not put all of our focus on who wasn't there for us. I also celebrated my 42nd birthday last week, and as I blew out the candles I've decided to make this year a year of noticing. Noticing when and where I need to show up. We make time for what is important to us. I want people in my life to feel important, cherished, and loved. I consider my writing and sharing of my story as showing up. For as long as I live there will be haters who tell me to be grateful, get over it, deal with it and get therapy. I'm so thankful for those who were vulnerable before me, and gave me permission to speak my truth. We are all so hardwired for belonging, that often the first thing we do is deny ourselves. I will notice when I need to be present for myself, and in doing so invite others to say #metoo. 

"Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with the perseverance the race marked out for us"
Hebrews 12:1

​I'm envisioning my rootless tree with little unearthed sprouts that grow towards the light. I'm thankful for those who have shown up in my life. To the friends who check in just to say I'm thinking of you. To the people who love my children like they are a part of their own family. To the girlfriends who make time to go to dinner even when they've had a busy week. To the family who raised me, loved me, and held on tight when loving me wasn't easy. To the new family who opens their arms and is equally sad about the years lost and even though the memories are painful decide to keep showing up because we have a new story to write. To the husband who is learning to sit with me on this rollercoaster meant for one. To my children who know sometimes I'm crazy, but I'm crazy in love with them. To the strangers here who join the conversation and are willing to show up for each other. I am noticing. My Namaste tagline being the badass in me, sees the badass in you. 
​ Perhaps I'm a lotus. The lotus has it's roots in mud, at the bottom of streams and ponds. but it grows to become the most beautiful flower despite it's origins. It's petal open up one by one, courageously surviving. No one telling it to hurry up through the mud, for they anticipate the beauty in the process.
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