for mami

You were meant to be my mother.

i wish i'd known then

that i would feel this way today.

maybe it would've been easier between us.

but maybe if it had, i wouldn't feel

so grateful for our relationship now.

i wish i could say we always got along.

i wish i could look back without regrets.

for all the times you drove to pick me up

when i couldn't sleep at the slumber party i was at.

for all the times you packed a healthy lunch

for the hours you spent arguing with me in

various dressing rooms teaching me taste and style

for the patience and consistency it took to teach me

the manners which give me confidence today to enter any situation

with grace and ease.

for the times you let me fail so i could learn

and for the times you stayed up late

to help me meet my goals.

for understanding when my heart was broken

and for promising it would heal.

for every time you turned down my bed

to welcome me home.

for the countless paperwork you did

to enroll me in camps, lessons and classes

and for driving me to the library

for teaching me to return my books on time.

for letting me go to grow into my own person

for loving me with all my hair colors

and also for paying to strip my hair

when i came to and saw goth was not a good look for me

for teaching me to be kind - to write thank you notes

and to ask for what i want - for teaching me

to give my time to help people - to smile at

strangers and to see beyond the surface of people

i know i will continue to realize more things

i learned from you for the rest of my life but

for now i want to thank you

for all that and more.

you were meant to be my mother

because there could be no other

who knows and loves me the way you do.

Not quite speechless

I've been wanting to find my birth mom for more than half my life. So now that I have, I'm not sure what to say. I'm nearly speechless, but not quite, because after all, it's me. But really, I'm not sure where to start. And not just because it didn't go quite as I'd hoped; because it didn't go as badly as I'd feared ... it just wasn't what I expected, I guess.

As I was emailing with the person working to help me find my birth mom, she'd left me a voice mail downstairs. She'd made contact with my birth mother. Who doesn't know if she wants to meet me. I said I was prepared for the worst case scenario when I started this search. It is what I was supposed to say. Those are the words of a grown up. But right now I don't feel so grown up. I feel sad and confused, mixed with some understanding and still a lot of questions. Lots and lots of questions. I'm curious about things I'm not supposed to wonder about, things other people balk at, but I can't help it. It's how my brain and heart (which seem more connected than is right or healthy) work. As luck-or whatever-would have it, I just so happen to have a therapy appointment scheduled tomorrow. The same appointment I meant to cancel all day because I'm still sick. But, I think I'll keep it.

So there it is on a random Monday night. After a dinner of enchiladas made with sauce that finally cleared my sinus cavity for the first time in six days, followed by a cup of Immunity Tea and in the middle of working on my Christmas cards for this year because yes (damn it!) there is still time to get them out - I get the call. She's been located. More, much more, later. Now, I'm just processing. And wishing I'd posted some of this other stuff sooner because now ... it's weird, now it's like I'm writing it in response to tonight's news but I actually wrote a lot of this stuff years ago. But now, I can't read it without being surprised that the answer is no. No she doesn't really wonder. And I can't believe that I am related to someone who isn't emotionally attached to something as huge as oh, I don't know, a baby she gave up for adoption 30 years ago. Maybe there was a mix up in the paperwork? 

I suppose if there was only one thing I could tell her, besides thank you for doing what was best for me and that she picked an awesome family for me, it would be that I don't need anything from her. I'm not looking to replace anyone, or to force a relationship or for money or anything. I want to know her; I want her to want to know me. Maybe a meeting or two and some letters. A relationship if we click, but other than that ... I'm good.

just wondering

there is one thing missing

in my pictures of the day i was brought home.

i know i was a wee one. with lots of

dark, brown hair - and big, curious brown eyes

i know my parents were in ski clothes

when they came for me - the call of

my arrival came as they prepared to head

to Crystal Mountain on that unusually

sunny February morning.

the excitement in their eyes is clearly

reflected in the pictures in the album.

I rode home from the hospital with my parents

in a 1965 Buick Skylark

but i wonder about the woman who

carried me in her body to give me

a chance at life with a family ready

for me.

what did her eyes reflect that day?

who drove her home from the hospital?

who held her hand during labor?

did she want to change her mind- even for a moment?

did she hear my cry?

does she hear it still?

i'm just wondering.

- june 2003

Just like me

Word Count: 24,616

So I'm on the edge of a mental breakdown and trying to figure out why and suddenly it occurs to me that it is just like me to decide to find my birth mom and write a novel in a month. And also sound the alarm on my approaching deadline to accomplish my annual goal to organize everything.

Also I am getting so frustrated at work and so much of it I can't post about here, but one thing I can say is that I am sick of our office being the junk drawer of the school. Don't know what to do with this pile of crap? Oh, send it to the office, they'll figure it out - or trip over it for two months. Oh, don't know how to deal with this kid? No problem, send him down to the office. Again.

After staring at the paperwork to send back to the investigation lady for a couple weeks, obsessing about how to answer the questions, I finally sealed the envelope tonight. I can't believe it sat on my desk for so long. Then again, I've been busy. And a little scared. This is potentially a big ass can of worms.

What would you want to know?

I decided to find my biological mother. Longer post on this later but right now I'm filling out the paperwork and trying to answer this question: Information about the person requesting the search (use back of form if needed to tell me a little about yourself).  So is this for just the person searching or will my bio. mom read it too? I don't know what to say. How do you sum yourself up in a few paragraphs? What would she want to know about me? Once I told a friend of mine who is also adopted some of the questions I'd like to ask my bio mom and she said, with a shocked expression, "Nathalie! You can't ask her that!" So clearly I'm not on track with what normal people would ask ... so my answers are kind of, well, they're me. I realized I felt like she might base her decision on whether or not to meet me on these few paragraphs, but like Jo pointed out, she's not going to say no because of my copious comma splices. But still.

I'm 30 years old. I'm a writer, married, pretty health, generally happy, self conscious, a graduate from Western Washington University's Journalism program, I've moved around between Washington and Oregon before settling into a small town an hour out of Portland. I dream about my books getting on Oprah. I'm a daughter, a wife, friend, sister, secretary at a grade school - just until Oprah calls. I grew up in a home with two parents, a brother and a poodle. My parents are from Slovakia and I learned to speak Slovak before English. Also, I can't whistle. And I'm a little nervous and excited about this process. This is the third time I've been this close to searching and the first time I've filled out the paperwork and written the check.

So that's what I have so far. Let's say you put a baby up for adoption. What would you want to know?