My First Letter

So I made it this far, now I had to decide what I wanted to do with my newly found information. Because I’m me, I did lots of research. I poured over books I found online about adoption and reunion. I learned that a lot of people felt the way I did. They went through the same emotions, dealt with the same things, and didn’t want to hurt their adoptive families either. On the other hand, I learned there were a lot of people who were not like me. They weren’t happy people and really struggled with everything. I still felt like I knew who I was. I didn’t need to get in touch with my natural parents to know who I was as a person. That wasn’t my issue, or so I thought at the time in my little bubble. I also wasn’t looking for a new family, just trying to get in touch with the family that would always be family purely for the blood that runs through my veins.  You can’t pick your family, so like it or not, they were mine as much as I was theirs even if they did give me away. If they didn’t want to talk to me, then that would hurt but not all that much because it wouldn’t really change my life. I was ok with where I was in my life; I just wanted to know more about my past and didn’t really want to wait. One woman wrote about finding her biological parents mere weeks after they died in a car accident. I didn’t want to be in her shoes. I decided to write a letter.

I sent it to NeverTooLate because SinginInTheRain wasn’t listed on WhitePages.com. I didn’t know where he was. He could have still been there and just kept a low profile online. He could have divorced her for whatever reason, which statistically I figured was very possible. 50% of marriages fail and my parents are still going strong, what are the odds so were my natural parents? I took two days to craft the letter to NeverTooLate. I mailed it from school and calculated how long it was going to take to get to her. I gave her my email address to respond, and I started checking my email account like crazy. I waited for two weeks. I feel bad for my boyfriend, because he had to listen to it. I also told my parents. It didn’t go over very well that I had kept it from them for a while that I had that information and made a decision all by myself. They didn’t want me to get hurt. At the same time, I really didn’t know what to expect back.

Sending that letter was one of the hardest and easiest things I’ve ever done.  It was so hard to drop it off in the box, but I never questioned if I could do it.  There was no question, I knew I had to send that letter, I had to make contact.  I couldn’t live with myself and with my life the way things were.  I needed more…