Finally

I imagined the day I would meet my birth mother for a long time.

Months. Years. Decades. Forever, it would seem, to my twenty-five year old self.

I had it all planned out, you see. It would be a beautiful day (obviously I planned for the weather), and we would have some sort of cheesy picnic or other reunion of sorts and we'd laugh and cry and recognize all the things that were similar in ourselves - my siblings, my mother and I. From the time I knew she was out there. from the moment I heard her voice I knew we would meet and it would be wonderful. And in many ways it was, except for one...

We met because her father is dying.

I woke to a text from my biological mother informing me that her father was in hospital, and the family had been called. She, her husband, brother and kids were driving from Ontario to Nova Scotia, in a race against time to be with her dad. I felt sick.

I didn't sleep much last night. My mind raced: how was I going to do this? Was I ready? Are you ever ready? I prepared myself for what I knew would be hard. I got dressed, did my hair and got in the car.

The drive was stressful - three hours in length. I drove in silence for a long time. Then with music blaring. F slept. I called Red. My mom called. I listened to my GPS and navigated an old highway I'd never driven before. I saw the sign to the hospital, I took a deep breath and I pulled in. Here it was.

I saw a group standing together outdoors, and I knew. I knew it was my family - even without seeing a face. Then I saw her. My mother. She turned and watched as my car pulled in. They all turned. I composed myself, and got out of the car. As she walked towards me we both began to cry. 25 years. A quarter century. Emotions and memories and so many things passed in the next seconds that the earth stood still as we hugged and cried, while family I didn't know looked on. We just cried.

Hugs. Introductions. Names. New faces. It was a lot to take in, and yet nothing at all, as I took it in stride and F did too. Strangers, and yet family. Strangers and yet familiar. Mine. Ours.

Just over two hours I spent with them, during their saddest time, as someone they loved and I would love to know is slipping away from them. It was bittersweet. I felt my heart break as Grandad looked at me and said "All the years we've missed..."

All the years.

25 years of memories and chances we've missed, so I did what I could to make up for them in that short time. As I said my good-bye, my heart shattered. I'll never get to know him. F will never get to know him. But I got to see him, and that's more than I might have had. I got to hold him and kiss him goodbye. Someone I don't even know, but care about in a way I can't explain. I can't explain any of it.

Darlene (birth Mom), Granddad Bill, Myself and F - Together, 25 years later.

I took the chance today, and I couldn't be more glad that I did. They slip away, you know. Chances. People. Loved ones. Memories. In a heartbeat, they're gone. Don't let them. Today, I saw where I came from. Who I am. Where I began and I finally found the closure I've wanted all my life.

I couldn't have done it without the love and support of my amazing parents, Debbie and David or without Red. Thank you. Without my friends, I might have lost the courage. Thank you.

Fairies Are Real

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.

HOLY COW!

"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.

XO :-)