At 1:07PM on Thursday afternoon, I was running around like a headless chicken. F and I were to get to town, run some errands and get back in time to pick up my brother's girlfriend. For the umpteenth time in the past few months, my cell phone lit up with BLOCKED dancing across the screen. I used to answer every call, sometimes no one was there, sometimes someone would be breathing into the phone. One call included a "You're a terrible mother" comment before the caller hung up, so I started ignoring them. I was about to throw my phone into my bag and let it go when I decided to answer it.
"This is Karen from Adoption Disclosure Services." I stood in the driveway staring at my car realizing that a phone call I've worked towards for two years is in progress.
"We have found your birth Mother. I wanted to let you know I got to speak with her. I read her your letter and it was very well received. It was emotional, but she is very happy and is preparing a letter for you now..." She's real. I was happy and sad, scared and excited all at once, along with a million other emotions I still haven't identified. She's really out there. I didn't come from the fairies - I'm not a fake kid!
In what was just another great example of how life throws things at you when you least expect it, the timing of this phone call was incredible. Just the night before, I posted The Fake Kid. A post about my adoption, about the uncertainties. One day later, I had the answer to my biggest question: Did she even want to meet me? She does.
I ran into the house to tell my Mom that the call had come. After sharing what details I had with her, I left for town. I sent about forty texts to friends telling them the call had finally come. I imagined our meeting, what would I say? What would she look like? Would I get to meet my two brothers, my dad? I let my mind wander with possibilities until I heard my phone ringing.
It was my Mom. "I was thinking about what you said. About that call."
I've always been afraid that Mom and Dad would feel bad about my decision to look for my birth parents. I hope they know that no one will ever replace them. I hope that they believe me when I tell them that. Biology doesn't make a Mom and Dad - love does. They have given me so much love that it's spilled over and we've all burst at the seams more than once. We have laughed and cried, fought and apologized a million times over and that is what makes us a family.
My attitude has changed a lot in the last number of years, particularly since becoming a mother myself. I used to refer to Mom and Dad as my "adoptive parents", and my birth mom and birth dad as my "real parents". I know now that this was wrong. Mom and Dad are my "real parents". Birth Mom and Birth Dad are just that - birth parents.
And Fairies are real.
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