I have 1-2 weeks of waiting on my DNA. It’s killing me 😉 My last possible lead is quite frankly scaring the hell out of me. It’s seems so close to my info. I had to give up looking for fellow adoptees in search as it appears I was the only sibling adopted out. Me. Of course. It also appears I have younger half siblings. If (that tiny word with the HUGE meaning) this lead is on track. It’s at the stage where I have to make some contact. I have to ask someone a question in some extremely careful way if I’m their sister. Or if it’s possible we are connected somehow by a common family member. There will be that question “well who are you, or what is your name?” The answer would be “I don’t know, it’s why I’m contacting you.” Doesn’t sound to good to me either. I feel this lead may be close since I am now scared to death. I’ve learned a lot about other people’s family trees. I feel like a stalker peering into other peoples lives. All the while trying to find my place in it. Like I’m trying to attach myself in some way to someone else’s life. It’s not really in my nature to do this sort of thing. But it is or was or could have been my family too. Or like a few other times, is just a fluke. I can’t rely on my non id to be accurate. It’s already pretty vague. If only it contained exact dates or first names. Just a tad more info would save me from contacting someone with that question that certainly has to be sugar coated. Did your mother have just one more baby before she died in 1967? How in the world do you do this diplomatically? I did reach out to someone and their reply was….no reply at all. Do I cross you off and just move on now? Well, it’s what I did. i’m rehearsing things this time. Such as “funny story to share with you…..you see I had this mother but don’t know her name, she died when yours did in the same locality…I wouldn’t be mentioned in the obits of course because I was a secret.” Sounds like something that gets deleted. Actually in truth, if I were to get such a letter I’d be intrigued. I’d be asking around the family in a quest for truth. But as I have learned time and time again, I am simply not like others in that regard. What could an infant possibly have done to be shunned so? it may turn out to be more like ‘what does this baby represent that is worth running from?” I must tread lightly. Always. I’m scared. If only I could do enough research to rule someone out but I can’t. It is not going to be spelled out in this case. There is no birth announcement for me. Not in the city I was “born in.” Which is actually only the city my adopted parents lived in at the time. My BC has been amended. My life was amended. I was amended. There is a little resemblance I see with one person who would be my oldest sister —if—this is a match. I still don’t know. She is following back on twitter now. Should I tweet something to entice her into reading my story? Would it ring a bell? Would it send me, my twitter and my blog to hell? I have to think on this. I have to rehearse. I will probably say something from the heart. The scared, uncertain, unrehearsed heart. But what?
I’m going to soak in a hot dizzy bubble bath along with my thoughts. When i come out i should have all the answers. But i won’t.. At least the fear will go down the drain as it is not proving useful to me right now. I so do not want to hurt or offend anyone. If this is my family (even if it’s not) I don’t want to cause a family feud or bring up horrible memories.
If this is my family OMG. I am so proud of them. They moved on and lived! I however am just stuck. I know I mustn’t wait for this or that to start living but somehow I do feel like I need to know my past in order to head towards my future. I just want a glimpse. It would explain me being artsy in a world (family) full of applied type stable …hum drum….traditional? Can’t think of the word. It’s a word that I am not. It’s the opposite of true to self. It’s one of those amended words. lol
There are many things about this family that make sense as to my adoption and non id info. There are a few things off too though as far as dates. Just a few. The other family was right on the money (the two families share some surnames in their tree too). Thinking of family trees, both had mystery slots. A birth–no name or follow ups and things such as that. Large gaps in info around the time I was born. September 30, 1966. Upstate NY. Mother died in 1967. Four older siblings. If my non id is incorrect with the very thing I mention to someone they would say “Oh no this is no matched based on ________” Fill in the blank with whatever wrong info the state of New York gave me and that will be the end even if we are family. I’m thinking I should just say “Hey do DNA ’cause it is FUN!” Maybe that will solve the problem except for the obvious reasons it’ wouldn’t lol No one is going to include “mystery baby unknown but given away lost or stolen” in their family trees. Or “Mother went missing fat and came back thin…don’t know why” but that would however make things a lot easier.
Maybe my mother was a hitch hiking artist who went from town to town, got pregnant, gave the child up and went on to the next place. Maybe I was no stranger to life under the big top? Let me give it a try….”Round and round and round she goes, where she stops nobody knows!” “Step right up, don’t be shy…” It’s no use. I’m off to soak 🙂
After I got the call from my mother stating “the DNA was wrong and I’m not your mother.” (after 13 years) i just simply returned to searching. With possibly bogus non-id info. i tried not to think too much. I dare to a little here and there for only short periods of time for obvious reasons. I have noticed that she is NOT searching which tells me …nothing actually but does make me wonder if she found a better match or one found her.
Basically I’ve lost/killed 3 mothers so far since my birth. My 1st mother died from septicemia caused by a streptococcal infection origin unknown after a full term otherwise healthy pregnancy. Which means she was my first victim/mother. My 2nd (adopted mother) always told me i was killing her before she actually died. When she didn’t, my adopted father, when he wasn’t telling me how I should be grateful and how i blew every chance they gave me at life, told me I was killing her too. Then after searching I was contacted by someone who “had a feeling” and sent a DNA test. My long lost Birth Mom (so we thought). The test said motherhood confirmation. Now we find out there wasn’t enough markers and that test basically said it was possible. Possible like thousands of other folks kind of possible. So i lost her while I was up here taking care of the estate. That’s three. Unless you count the fact that I’ve thought I was adopted twice for years. That’s a different blog though 🙂
So I told my oldest daughter of my plans to do DNA with all the markers available and uploading to registries because I feel that if there aren’t any matches after all these years there isn’t going to be. Perhaps i’ll at least know where I came from if not who. That is when my daughter said “Wait, you mean we are not Irish and Italian anymore now?” I told her “No we are going to have to go back to being German and English once again. At least until the DNA results come in.” We both agreed that we have strong genes. My genes have over ridden any mate I’ve ever had. We shared a good laugh at that but it’s true really. My children and grand children look like me. A lot. I wonder if my mother looked like us too. I may never know. I may never know what prompted my “reunited mom” to decide to question things especially after she finally convinced me. I had plenty of doubts but finally got to where I believed. I wonder when she said to herself “OMG this thing can NOT be mine!” ? Ah well, better late than never. like I keep saying, I’ll be the roots to my family tree.
I don’t feel adoptees should be more grateful than any other child. One doesn’t tell their natural children how they did them a favor by having them so adoptive parents shouldn’t either. It does something to a child especially a female child for some reason. I’ve lived my life a little too grateful. I was grateful a black eye wasn’t a broken leg. I was grateful enough to not go to the doctor for a concern because at least I’m able to walk. I didn’t want to seem spoiled by taking care of myself. The selfishness of it all don’t ya know. I had my children because I WANTED children. Just like adoptive parents Wanted children but some won’t admit. They’d rather feel, state loudly and often that they rescued them. I can remember my mother telling me how she didn’t “just spread her legs” to have me, Why, she picked me out. i’d ask, “out of a line up?” Well, I didn’t just spread my legs to have my kids either Mom, I did all sorts of things in addition to that. lol
4 search angels have pm’d me saying they feel I should get DNA done. I think they are right. Something is wrong with my search info.
I was told for a long time that my natural mother died of a strep throat and to watch my sore throats. (non id did state something very close) I was also told to be on the look out for a Kline/Klein/Cline because my a-dad overheard the social worker talking and she shut up quick when he entered the room. He also told me that my natural mother was married but the guy felt he couldn’t take care of me by himself. (whah whah whah j/k) They were told my natural parents were musically inclined. (note the cline part of inclined as it might be what he heard while she rehearsed the story lol)
I remember a red haired woman taking me on yet another day trip–this time to an airport. I remember my puppy dog and my teddy that I named Corky and Teddy. They were both all worn out but I loved them. My a parents threw them out soon after as it wasn’t letting me forget, allowing me to hold on to so much of my old life. I remember my new father calling me Susie and saying it sounded enough like Lucy so I wouldn’t be too confused. I remember the red haired woman rushing out the kitchen door and hearing the screen door slam. Before she left me there she had told my new parents that “Soon there will be no memories at all.” I hated that woman lol. I wasn’t so sure about these new people either and where the hell is Johnny and David. Funny I can’t remember who they even were but those names stuck with me. They used to hide me when the paper boy came to collect because somehow I believed he knew where my home was. My new parents tried to give me a bottle and I laughed. They did too and threw it out after I told them “that’s for babies” That social worker told them I may regress and need security. She was right but it took many years for those things to happen 😉 I remember quite a bit of things but some things I can’t tell if they were dreams or movies or what. I don’t try to mention those things much (They’ll go in my book which will certainly be fiction based on fact–I’m not THAT foolish) The dreams and “iffy” memories are doozies as they say.
My non-id from the state of NY states that my mother was 5’4″, hazel eyes, light brown hair, protestant 10th grade factory worker who was 32 at time of my birth and that she died of sepsis in early 1967. No extended family to take me. No info on siblings placement. No info on father. So her life span was approx 1933-1967. It doesn’t actually state where anyone was born. Adoption handled by Onondaga County Social Services in Syracuse NY. It was final December 13, 1968.
My amended BC states my adopted parents name and the city they lived in when I was adopted. They were both born in PA. My birth time was friday 9-30-1966 @7:30 AM and my weight was 8 lbs 2 ozs.
Things that sound true are her having a bunch of kids (I do too) Birth weight (All my kids were over 8 lbs) Eye color about right (all of us have greenish eyes) Hair color (ours are all more of a dirty blonde)
Our Traits, starting with me, are us girls are all 5′ 8″ or more and all my sons are 6′ and over slightly. We all have a little space between our central incisors. We are all creative/artistic. We all have thick hair and most of us have curly kinky hair. We all seem to be thinkers and are (in my case WAS) especially strong. Notably strong where people comment on it.
I feel that the dates and places are off.
I’ve actually looked in the mirror a few times lately saying “Now wait, what is it I look like again?” It’s almost like a doubt. Like when I was little and I wondered if I really existed all over again. Hard to explain.
I was raised alone. It was a really secluded time for me..my childhood. I was always told not to “mingle with outsiders” I got to go to public school where I studied these creatures that I knew where “peers”. I tried to understand them. i did OK. School work was a breeze although i resented being programmed, i was allowed to watch neighborhood kids play outside from the window as I listened to how their parents didn’t care about them and how lucky I was to have parents who cared. I was allowed to get phone calls once in a while but I had to wait as my mother would count out loud “1 2 3” then motion that I could pick up the phone the same time she did (so the other party wouldn’t hear her picking it up) I used to call her “the warden” It helped me develop a sense of humor. It demanded that I developed one actually. I recall one time asking for permission to scream just once like i hear other kids do. She let me and that was nice of her. We bonded with our goofy sense of humor. I focus on that because I need to. We really had a blast during those chats. I remember a lot.
The truth is I just want to know. That is all. i want to see a photo. Something. Just to know. I never was one to “mingle” and I’m certain I won’t develop some pushy get together type behavior. I truly have never known what it was to have siblings of my very own and I’m a tad too old now to figure out. But it would still be nice to know. To see a photo. They say “get in where you fit in”….I know how to stay out. But it would be nice to peek in. Perhaps a glimpse.
I fit in with the family I created. My children pets and grand children. Even my exes and in laws. I’m content for the most part and I have a lot. I’ve even got a garden and way cool patio furniture lol
I try not to HATE NY state for their stupid sealed records. History is history and truth is truth. Denying it or Lying about it doesn’t change it. It protects no one except crooks and kidnappers to keep the truth of my birth from me. I want to know. This silly idea that my siblings will register with the state registry and they will actually contact me is not likely to happen. It’s been years. If my mother is dead then SHE CAN’T SIGN IT. Are they going to wait until every last one of us are dead? The judge-the social worker-the lawyer are all DEAD. What is the problem? Enough time has passed that they can just simply blame any wrong doing on a dead person. They have no problem with lying, so Give UP my OCB! Chicken $H*ts they are.