Miss Me?

Yeah, yeah, I know. Well, SO much has happened in the past week. Almost too much. I'm overwhelmed really, but there's no place like here to start. Strap on your safety belts Kiddos; it's gonna be a wild ride.

Last Sunday, as I have done many times in the past, I was tinkering around on the computer and I typed in my birth parents names. Now, in past years when I have done this, I've never gotten past the ads for companies that you pay to search for someone. I've always used that as an excuse to not forge ahead. I don't want to pay to find someone. It's never really been that important to me. As an adoptee, I've always felt that if someone wanted to find ME, they could. I was given up for a reason. It always seemed to me that I should be grateful for the parents that raised me and if you go looking for the parents that gave you up you were being ungrateful to the ones who took you in. I always looked at it as a backhanded slap in my adoptive parents faces if I did that. Now, that's just me. Please understand that I'm not putting down the millions of adoptees who have this need to find where they came from. I've just never been one of those people.

I'm not saying my life has been perfect. Far from it as a matter of fact. I'm not saying that I haven't had questions. I have. I'm not saying that it hasn't been frustrating to not know the answers to questions on medical forms about "family history". It has been. But it hasn't left or created a gaping whole in my life that I couldn't step over. Or at least I thought. Yeah, I've had some pretty crappy times in my life. But who hasn't? I've never felt myself outstanding, or deserving of any more special dispensations than any other human being that walks on this earth. I didn't give it a whole lot of thought. Ok, so I'm adopted. Big deal. This is the hand I was dealt. Why go looking for trouble? That's the way I've always looked at it. More than that, I never wanted to hurt my parents feelings. They did the best they could in raising me. I know that. They deserve better than a slap in the face. Again, that's the way I looked at it.

And then there's Charlie. He's always asked me.."Don't you ever wonder why you're so different than your family?" "Don't you wonder about the people "out there" who have the same genes as you?" "Don't you wish you knew some of the answers to the questions that you've asked yourself?" It seemed to me that HE was the one asking the questions, not me. After my mom died and my dad pulled away from us, yes, I did wonder more than I had before. Losing what little sense of family that I had, I did wonder about the brothers and sisters and parents out there who had handed me over for whatever reason. But after a lifetime of pains, heartaches, and rejections at the hands of "family", WHY on God's earth would I want to subject myself and my children to that again? I had only known dysfunction. Charlie had only known dysfunction. Wouldn't it stand to reason that if someone gave you up to another family that there was some dysfunction in THAT group as well? Good Lord, didn't I have enough? Why would I want to go find more? Why would I want to open myself and my heart up to more pain? What sane person would do that? Okay, call me crazy. I did.

So, for the first time, when I typed in my birth parents names, I got back a VOLUNTEER Adoption Search website. They didn't want money. They were a group of adoptees who volunteered their time to help other adoptees find their families. So I thought, "why not?" I entered the information that I knew. It was a surreal feeling to type the words "Baby Girl" where it asked for your birth name. Yes, that's what it said on my birth certificate.."Baby Girl" I put in my birthdate, location, the names of my birth parents as they are listed on my birth certificate and my adoptive parents names. And then I shut the computer off and walked away, never thinking for ONE INSTANT that I would get any kind of response.

On Monday morning (yes, less than 24 hours later), I opened my email to find FOUR responses from Search Volunteers. They had names, dates, addresses, AND last known phone numbers of my parents, and my siblings. I was absolutely stunned. I didn't know what to do. I just sat there and stared at the screen, and then when I caught my breath, I called Charlie at work.

"Charlie, they've found my birth family."

"What?"

"That website that finds families. They found mine."

"Are you sure?"

"No mistake, it's them"

"Well? What are you waiting for??? CALL THEM!!!"

So, I hung up the phone, and I printed out the pages. Then I sat there and stared at the names and numbers. I was scared as hell. I picked up the phone and I called the number of what appeared to be my birth mother's last address in Washington State. The phone rang, but all I could hear was my heart pounding. I panicked and hung up. This routine continued for 10 or 12 times. I'd pick up, dial, let it ring, then hang up. I couldn't do it. Finally, I went back to the computer. One of the volunteers who sent me an email with the information told me that she was always online and gave me her screen name so that if I wanted to talk with her, I could. Sure enough, I entered her in my buddylist and she was online. So I IM'd her and told her what was happening. That I was scared to death. She reassured me that she and ALL adoptees feel the same way; "teeth-shattering scared". She offered to make the initial contact for me if I felt too afraid. She said that more often than not, the other party is shocked, but happy to hear from their long lost family member. So, with her encouragement and my promise to let her know what transpires, I went back to the phone to try again. Hours have now passed.

I dialed the number. I let it ring, my heart beating so loud I was sure it was shaking the walls. A young voice answers:

Voice: "Hello?"

Me: "Um, hi. I'm trying to locate James & Pearl. This is the number that's listed for them."

Voice: "Just a minute please"

Young Voice leaves and now I'm thinking.."oh my God, this is the right number. She's gone to get my mother to the phone!" Now, I'm really scared. I don't know what I'm going to say. I start to pray. Something I haven't done in YEARS now. "Please God, if you're really there, now's the time to show it. Tell me what to say. Help me." Another voice comes to the phone; a woman.

"Hello?"

"Hi. Is this Pearl?"

"No, may I ask who is calling?"

I start to stammer. Oh god. I'm shaking. Calm down, Pua. Just calm down.

"Well, my name is Pua, and I believe that James and Pearl are my birth parents."

::::SILENCE::::

"Um, you know what? I'm going to let you talk to my husband. Jim and Pearl are his parents, my in-laws, and he'll know more about this than I will. Ok?"

"Yes, that would be great. Thank you very much."

Now I'm even more scared than I've ever been in my life. And I'm about to lose it. I'm going to cry. Just hold it together Pua. Hang on.

"Hello?"

"Hi, um..my name is Pua. I got this number from a Adoption Volunteer Search website. I believe that James and Pearl are my birth parents."

"Uh, ok. Well, I'm Jimmy and Jim and Pearl are my parents."

"Well, I don't know quite how to go about this, but I'll just tell you my story, and you can decide what you'd like to do with the information...ok?"

"Ok, go ahead."

So I begin to tell my story. When, where, how, who. Dates, times, etc. And he patiently and quietly listens. And every now and then I hear a very soft..."Oh my god....oh my god." I read the names of my siblings off the the printed paperwork and he says, "yes, those are my brothers and sisters, yes....oh god..oh my god."

Finally, I say.."I guess this is a shock and surprise to you."

He responds: "You know, my parents just moved back to Hawaii the first week of March. They lived here for 7 years with me and my family until just a couple weeks ago. They decided they wanted to live out their days back home. So this is what I'm going to do; I'm gonna call my mom over there and talk to her, and if you give me your phone number, I'll call you back..ok?"

Me: "Yes, that's fair. Thank you." I added that my purpose in this was not to cause anyone any pain. I don't want to bring up unhappy memories, or make anyone feel bad for any past decisions they made. That's not why I'm doing this. I'm doing it because I just want to know where I came from. I want to know there are people out there who are like me when I'm SO different from the people that raised me. I want to know who I look like. I want my kids to know these things. It's not at all my purpose to lay blame or ask why...only to know where I'm from. Please understand and relay that message.

He says he will and that he will contact me soon. We say our goodbyes and hang up.

I pace. Charlie calls. I'm emotional. I tell him how it went. Now it's just a waiting game. Did I do the right thing?

An hour goes by. A long hour. It's like being in labor. A heavy, pregnant wait. The phone rings. I almost wet myself.

Me: "Hello?"

Jimmy: "Pua?"

Me: "Yes, this is Pua"

Jimmy: :::crying::: "This is your brother, Jimmy"

We both lose it. Uncontrollable tears. It's like the floodgates opened and it was ok to cry. He explained to me that he called and talked to our mother in Hawaii. He said a woman was calling him and saying that her name was Pua (which is my mother's name, by the way) and that she is the child of Pearl and James. He gave her dates and asked if it was possible. She told him it was. That yes, everything I said was true. I was indeed, his long lost sister. This big Hawaiian man, who is my eldest brother (52), through emotional tears began to tell me everything she said. Why she had given me up, how difficult a decision it was, and why she had never spoken about me. I have 3 older brothers, an older sister, and then there are 2 younger sisters and a younger brother after me. All of them live in Hawaii, with their families, except for Jimmy in Washington. He called me "Sis". He said he loved me and that he couldn't wait to meet me, the kids, and Charlie. He told me to thank Charlie for always encouraging me to find them. He was thrilled. Shocked, happy, thrilled. We talked for hours. We shared our lives, our spouses, our children. He has a daughter named "Joy Everly". When I told him about my "Averie Joy", we were both blown away. So many little things like this. We sent pictures back and forth. GOD, I look like someone! He told me that our mother wanted to speak with me and she was very happy I found them. For the first time in my life, people were WANTING to be my family. Aching to love me and my family, wanting to welcome us in. For the first time in my life, I felt a familial love that I had never felt before. I'm not talking about the love of my husband, which is without question or comparison, or the love of my children, which goes without saying...I'm talking about something completely different. Something that I have no descriptive words for, because it's so foreign to me.

Jimmy and I have spoken EVERYDAY this week. The day after first contact, my birth mother called me. She explained what happened and why. I told her it wasn't necessary. I didn't want to talk about unhappy times or cause her pain. I just wanted to know her. I wanted my kids to know her. She said "Welcome home little Pua. You have a big, loving family who wants to love you. I love you. Please don't be afraid to call me Mom, because I AM your mother. Your real mother. Now tell me about my grandbabies." I cried. She said..."Don't cry Sweetheart. It's all going to be ok now."

Last night, I got a call from another brother; Eddie. When Charlie answered the phone and he asked for Pua, Charlie asked if he could tell me who was calling and he said..."this is Pua's brother Eddie". Charlie's smile couldn't have been bigger. This morning, I talked to Jimmy again. As the oldest child, our mother has asked him to call all of the siblings and tell them. I asked him if he was ok with that job. He said he was VERY happy to be the one calling and sharing the good news. Everyone has cried when he's told them. It's been a happy chore for him. Soon, he says, I will be hearing from my sisters. There is a reunion being planned in Hawaii. We can't afford it. But somehow, we'll figure out a way...

I'm 43 years old. I'm a newborn.