I was Chosen. I was Wanted. I was Cherished.

“She wasn't tracking down her father to learn more about him. She was tracking him down to learn more about herself.” 
― Brad Meltzer, The Inner Circle

I’ve known I was adopted since I was 5. I thought it was the coolest thing in the world. I felt special because I was picked out of all the children that my parents could have taken home with them. It was me they fell in love with. My parents are truly the best, not because they gave me life, but because they chose to raise me through a life time knowing they hadn’t created me. And for me, that’s the ultimate showcase of love. I am eternally blessed because of them.

As I sit here in the early hours after Christmas Day, I’m once again brought back to the topic of finding out information about my biological family. I’ve never been too bothered about finding anything out. I’ve been down this road twice before and never really pursued it further than getting forms to fill out that would start the post adoption services process. But, after a discussion in a group I’m a part of where the topic was unsuspectingly dating someone, like a cousin, that you don’t know you’re related to, it dawned on me that I could unknowingly find myself in that situation.

Who am I? Where do I come from? What is my heritage? Every so often, something happens that triggers me wanting to get the ball rolling on this whole biological family search. Yesterday it was a group discussion. A few years ago, a guy I was seeing asked me what I was mixed with to which I bestowed upon him a look of bewilderment.

My dad gave me the name of the adoption agency they used. Post adoption services seem so daunting to me and they really shouldn’t be and the fees seem like a deterrence, especially for those who may not have the funds to pay for it all. It seems like it could be a lengthy, time intensive process.  At the very least you should be given the documents with the biological parents information. I’ll be honest, the fee schedule has been a large part of why I’ve stalled out on this. When I first looked into post adoption services back towards the end of my undergraduate study, I wasn’t in a position to pay multiple fees associated with obtaining information. So, my urge to know fizzled and then it fizzled again 4 years later, and now here I am again. Seems like I never follow through. In Texas, you’re required to have at least one hour of counseling too. I can see why counseling would be required and encouraged, but what if you literally just want to know health information with no intention of reconnecting with your biological family? Knowing whether or not the possibility of developing diabetes or high blood pressure or cancer is running through your veins is important.

Trying to process the idea of obtaining information, receiving correspondence from biological family members or meeting them is overwhelming. Hell, maybe I do need to talk to a counselor first. I love my parents and I don’t have any issues of abandonment, resentment, or any other negative feeling one might associate with being told about being adopted. I’ve had a great life with a mom and dad who love me. I didn’t want for anything and still don’t. If I need it, they will figure out a way to make it happen. They are the best parents a girl could have.

I don’t need the counselor to help me through anything I might feel about being adopted, I need the counselor to help me process what I’m about to do. Part of me feels like I’m opening Pandora’s box. I actually refer to my biological mother as the egg donor. Obviously, I’m grateful, but questions I haven’t had before may start to surface. Like, why? And I’ve never really cared to know the answer to that question or wanted to know. 

I like to think that I wouldn’t be overly emotional about all this, but now, I’m not so sure. I almost feel like I might be an emotional wreck because I’m confronting something I haven’t really ever thought about and that makes me feel extremely on edge. Like, what does it mean that I might have other siblings? And do I want to integrate them into my life? Do they want to integrate me? Would they be upset? But, don’t I have a right to know what my heritage is? What are my roots?

I may fizzle out, yet again. 

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