Always Knowing I Was Adopted

For as long as I can remember, I have always known I was adopted. You choose your friends, not your family, but in this case, my parents chose me—well, sort of. As a child, I would imagine a room filled with babies and cribs, my parents walking towards me and picking me up as if I were a perfectly ripe piece of fruit, “We’ll have this one.” The other story that played out in my head was a fantasy about a princess from a faraway kingdom leaving me with my parents; she would eventually return for me, and I would live out my life as a princess in some foreign land. The mind of a child…TBH, I do have a little princess in me…

My adoption has never been a secret, nor did I ever feel I was any different from anyone else, it’s part of who I am.

Questions That Arrived With Age

It wasn’t until my teenage years that I seriously began thinking about my birth parents. I mean, who wouldn’t be curious?

What was their story? Who did I resemble the most, my mother or father? Where did I get my wavy hair from? Which, btw, I hate and straighten every day. What little quirks and habits might we share? I also wondered if there was a day that went by that they didn’t both think about me. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to give up a child, incredibly selfless. So many questions.

There were many momentous occasions in my life at which my birth parents would pop into my mind, actually, a feeling of sadness for them, the choice they made in their past not to be included in my future.  My adoptive parents are the only parents I know, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. And yes, like everyone else’s parents, mine drove me crazy at times—but I’m pretty sure that’s normal.

The Family That Raised Me

For the most part, I have always felt their love and support, so I never felt the need, nor did I ever obsess about trying to locate my birth parents.  My mother, however, perhaps because I’m an only child and the fact that she’s always been curious, often asks me, “Wouldn’t you like to find them?” This led us on a journey that ultimately went nowhere. Strict adoption confidentiality rules created constant roadblocks, making the search futile.

Becoming a Mother Changed Everything

It wasn’t until I had children of my own that I understood this unexplainable connection. My children are my “first” blood relatives. I really didn’t appreciate this bond in the past. You can’t imagine what it was like to watch my children do things I would do myself.

No, seriously—it’s bizarre. I had no context for this whatsoever. And they look like me, too! What?! I was placed with my family during the ’60s; adoption agencies were cautious to match you with similar ethnic and religious backgrounds. My birth mother requested that I be placed in a Russian home or similar. So yes, I grew up in a Russian home, and I can pronounce “Vodka” with a Russian accent, lol!

 

The DNA Test That Opened a Door

Fast forward to Christmas, when my sons gave me an AncestryDNA test kit—something I’d wanted to do for years.

Ha! No surprise, I’m 91% Russian/Eastern European, 9% Balkans…I know that my birth father was from Bosnia.

I had 122 DNA matches from around the world, quickly connecting with a first cousin and thinking, “This is crazy!” Within 48 hours, I had the name, address, and phone number of my birth mother. It stopped me in my tracks. DNA had become the back door to discovering my past.

Why I Chose Not to Open Pandora’s Box

I know, I’ve imagined this for a very long time, but there is something to be said about opening up Pandora’s box.  My mission is not to turn people’s lives upside down; in fact, I would rather observe from afar.  You know, ring the doorbell and pretend to be selling something?

At this point, it’s a bit deflating. I have all the information to contact my birth mother, but what will it give me that I don’t already have?

Family Is More Than DNA

My family is my family, I’m not missing anything except a bloodline, and I have that with my children, taking it in a new direction and not focusing on the past. I have everyone I need and love in front of me. Whatever will be, will be. A connection with my family from the past would be a bonus, but I’m not forcing something that may not be meant to be.

In the end, I come by my Russian “spy” name honestly, and I already have more than enough DNA to love without opening Pandora’s box. Whatever happens next will happen in its own time.

LC

xo