Ever sit and question who you are? Where you came from? Those are questions I asked myself everyday for 30 years.
Growing up, I always knew I was different. I didn't belong to the family which I grew up with. Something wasn't right and I needed to know.
Growing up, I was always treated differently than my two siblings. I was literally Cinderella. I was the child that came home from school to a list of chores to do while my little sibling was out running around with his friends. I was the child that, on half days of school, wasn't allowed to go grab some lunch with my friends. I had house work that needed to be done. Trust me, if everything wasn't done by the time my father got home, holy hell broke loose.
When I was around the age of eight- or nine-years-old, I remember sitting in the car with my older sibling annoying him like normal little sisters do. That's when the truth came out. I said something to annoy him and he said "Oh just shut up your adopted, anyways." When my mother got back into the car, I asked her what adopted meant. She asked me where I heard it and I told her. She then back-handed my brother and laid into him.
At that point, it was my mission to figure my life out. As years went on, I continuously asked questions like, "What are my birth parents' names?" "Where was I born?" "Why was I adopted?" "Where are my birth parents now?" All these questions usually got me whooped by my father. He was such an angry man all throughout my childhood.
I got into my mid teenage years and did what most teenagers do... I hit rebellion like a freight train. Man oh man did I have fun, usually resulting in some type of beating when I got home. Then I learned not to come home for days at a time. I was on this identity search but wasn't sure where to look or what to look for.
My thoughts were that no one wanted me; no one truly loved me. I was given up by my adopted parents to these people where I was beaten for pretty much being myself and expressing myself. What finally settled me down was when I was 18, I gave birth to the most handsome baby boy ever, weighing 1.2 lbs and 9 inches long. Right then and there, I knew what I had to do and what I needed to live for. It wasn't about me any more.
Shortly after having my, son I found out I was pregnant again, this time with a daughter. She was gorgeous and these two little humans I created were all mine. They were the ONLY blood family I had.
After having these children, I was questioned by my adopted family both immediate and extended about how I was going to be able to love these children as I wasn't loved as a child. They said I would just continue the cycle.
I was always told my biological mother was addicted to drugs and couldn't get her life together so she abandoned me. I hated her for that.
I kept searching and searching for her. I had so many questions I thought I deserved answers to.
Well on December 11, 2017 I finally found her... On FaceBook of all places. I messaged her but I got no reply and I wouldn't settle for that. I looked at her page and messaged the individual who posted the most on her page. I came to find out the second person I messaged was my little sister (she's a sweetheart). My sister has just had a child and my biological mother was with her at the moment I messaged. She had my biological message me.
We got to talking. She had some questions herself. I explained to her that I was adopted and I had a completely different last name, which is why she could never find me. Throughout our conversation some startling news was uncovered. My biological mother had no idea I had been adopted. She did not consent to my adoption.
I was informed that when I was six-months-old, my biological father had gotten me for a visit and never returned me. When my biological mother went searching for me, the death threats came in an abundance.
My bio father informed my bio mother that I was dead which kept her from searching more. This was verified by other members of my biological mother's family.
Once I got this information, the search for answers was on. I called the municipal building to discuss my birth certificate. What they informed me was heart breaking. My adoption birth certificate didn't correlate with the ones that were distributed at the time of my adoption. The dates are off and there is no seal on it.
I contacted my adopted mother to get the name of her adoption lawyer. She gave me the name, but man was she pissed. I called this lawyer to ask him about my adoption records and this was an open adoption between my biological father and the people that adopted me(they were friends).
When I called the lawyer's office, I explained to the receptionist what my call was about and who I needed to speak to. She informed me he wasn't in and he would call me back which he did... four and a half hours later, just to inform me that he destroyed my adoption records and they weren't scanned electronically which is the state law.
I then called the court where my adoption took place and they said per state law all records are sealed and they only way to unseal them is to get consent of all parental individuals involved. That would be my adoptive parents and my bio father as my mother didn't have the option to consent in the first the first place.
Now I've met the legal wall that is preventing me from finding out all policies and procedures that were either followed or broken. My mind won't shut off at all about all this information. I still need answers. I need closure. I want this wrong made right one way or another!