Blown Away

I found my birth family today.

I was adopted almost thirty-nine years ago. It will be thirty-nine years next week in fact. When I turned eighteen, I began searching for information about and contact with my birth family. Thanks to the laws in Alberta, I was denied access to my information. Then, November 1, 2004, the legislation changed. I applied for the release of information pertaining to my adoption on November 15, 2004.

That information arrived today.

I called my dad, and opened the letter with him. In the back of my mind, I was telling myself not to get my hopes up, repeating that it was probably yet another denial, another dead end. I was wrong. After pouring over the information with my dad, I jumped online and did a quick 411 search on my father's last name, which is much more unusual than mine and my mother's. I found three numbers in the general area I had decided to search in.

First number, voice mail.

Second number, no answer.

Third number, an older woman answered. I asked if she knew a man with my father's name. There was a slight pause, then she asked me if I would mind sharing why I was looking for him. I felt like a complete fool explaining to a stranger, but I did it. There was a pause, then I heard, "I am your grandmother." I had contacted my paternal grandmother. I spoke with her at length. She gave me my father's numbers, and I called him next.

That call was much more frightening. I knew he would be on the other end. How DO you introduce yourself to a parent you have never met? I was terrified. I had over eleventy hundred questions slamming around in my mind. I refused to allow myself time to think about what I was doing, for I know myself. Given time, I would have talked myself out of it, mainly because I do not want to be rejected. The phone rang a couple of times, then a man answered. I asked if he was the man I was looking for, then explained who I was. He was happy to hear from me. Happy! We talked for a long time, too. It was so ....damn.

Turns out I was batting .1000 with the numbers I located. First number? My paternal cousin. Second number? My brother.

My father suggested I call my brother's number again, as he would know where my mother was. Okay.

*deep breath*

I called, and a teenager answered. I asked for my brother, and was told he was not in. However, when I explained I was looking for her grandmother, this teenaged girl willingly provided me with the number I needed. I thanked her and hung up. I dialled the number VERY quickly. No going back now. A woman answered, and I asked to speak with the woman whose name was on my adoption papers. I was put on hold for a moment, then ... there she was. I told her who I was, and she seemed so happy to hear from me. She said she had been waiting for me.

Thirty-nine years is a LONG time to wait.

After I got off the phone with her, I had to call my adoptive dad and tell him what I had done. Then I called my older brother and told him too. This is all so surreal.

Wow.