“Class, I want you to go home and do a map of your genes. Do it like a family tree. Ask your parents to give you information about your grandparents.” This was a project I had to do in the 7th grade. I discussed it with my mom over the dinner table and looked at her and my brother, Josh. I said, “Mom, you and Josh both have black hair. And Dad had black hair. I wonder why I don’t have black hair.” She told me it was because I was adopted. My stomach twisted like a sponge but I had to think she was kidding so I laughed. She told me it was true and when I still didn’t believe her, she got upset. She and my dad (who died when I was 8 years old) had told me that I was adopted until up to the age 9, to make sure that I knew where I came from. We went upstairs and she showed me my adoption papers. She said she had unidentifying information that I could only see when l was ready to do the search.

After going away to university at Albuquerque and spending a year going to Operation Identity meetings, I was ready. My mom gave me the non-identifying information, which only mentioned my biological mother, and I started from there. It mentioned that I also had a biological sister and brother who were both quite a bit older than me, and that I was an aunt to two children. So now my curiosity peaked. The place where I was adopted from, St. Joseph’s, a maternity ward and nursery, also does searches for adoptees. I called them first and the woman helped me to track down my biological family. About two months later, I got a call from the woman. She told me that my biological mother had passed away in 1991. I was not 18 then anyway, so I could not have searched then. I was 3 years too late. The search ended there. There was nothing more that she could do for me.

I thought that that was the end of it, too. But I was determined to find out more. I got an obituary and death certificate on my biological mother. The obituary mentioned a church where my biological mother liked to go, so I called them up. It rang for a long time before a priest picked it up. He normally is not there at that time, so it was pure chance that he answered. I told him my story and asked if there was some way that maybe my biological mother had talked to someone there 19 years ago about the situation. My interest was whether she had mentioned to anyone whether my biological siblings knew about me or not.

The priest, Father Nick, mentioned that he had known my biological mother. He visited her in the hospital when she was dying. And he also conversed with my biological sister (my oldest sibling) once. Now he was very interested in my story. He was a very nice and helpful man. He was also very enthusiastic about it. He mused that I might be “the Aunt from Philadelphia” coming to visit! He told me that he had seen my sister a few times on occasion since then and he would go over and talk to her for me. I only wanted to know if she and her brother knew about me. I made a spiritual promise from the beginning to my biological mother that I would not impose on her privacy and her life. If she didn’t tell my siblings about me, then I would respect that and obey it. She is not alive to defend herself to her family and I didn’t want to change their view of their mother. However, this was not a realistic view on my part to have and I realize that now. If I asked Father Nick to talk to my sister for me, I should have expected that she would be curious and want to know what was going on. And that is what happened. Father Nick approached it as sensitively as he could saying that her mother relinquished a baby 19 years ago and that I was brought up in a very nice home and was curious about where I came from, but would not make any demands on them. He told me that she sounded fairly alright with it and said she wanted to talk to her brother about it first. She never called Father Nick back and when he called her, her family made it clear that she didn’t want to talk to him. She knows how to reach Father Nick if she is ever interested in finding me down the road. I have done all that I can do and I feel satisfied with what I did.

After this call from Father Nick, I was a bit upset, but didn’t exactly know why. My mother was out for the evening, so the first thing I did was call my brother at medical school. He was really surprised and happy to hear from me. I didn’t tell him anything about what had just happened. I just wanted to hear his voice. It comforted me in a way.

Meanwhile, during all of this, my mother and brother were very supportive. My mother has always been supportive of everything my brother and I did since we were little, and so was my dad when he was alive. I am really grateful that 1 got the parents that I did and am appreciative to them for the life that l have had. If I had a chance to change things, I wouldn’t! My mum gave me any help that I needed, was there for emotional support and encouragement, and also let me go about it in my own way and stood by while I did the search myself, but also showed interest in my search at the same time.

After all this, I decided I wanted to visit my biological mother’s grave before I went back to university. It would help me close the chapter of this book, and would also give me a chance to meet Father Nick. I told him I was coming down to the church to sit in on a mass. He dedicated the mass to my biological mother and also lead the congregation in a prayer for me and that my biological siblings might someday contact me. The mass was beautiful. It was all done in singing and was the most lovely thing I had ever heard. I was very touched. Then, Father Nick took us out to lunch and helped us to find my biological mother’s grave. We couldn’t find it, and this upset me very much, but we had to go. Father Nick showed us where my biological sister lived (it had her address on the death certificate) so we looked at the house for awhile.

A few weeks later, my mother and I were able to go up there again for a second attempt to find my biological mother’s grave. We found it this time and I put a dozen roses on her grave. They were all yellow, a sign of friendship. There was a Styrofoam “Mom” sign planted in her grave left over from Mother’s Day. When I saw this, it made me very happy. I felt happy because I know that she was loved by her children and that she was a good mother to them. I consider her as being a good mother to me, as well, because she was able to give me to a wonderful family that could better take care of me at the time.

After the grave, we went by the house a second time. My mother stopped the car and we looked at it from across the street. We were on our way to get dinner. She said, “Go on, knock on the door. Ask her where a good restaurant is! You’re so close now, how can you stand the curiosity?” I couldn’t stand it, to be truthful, but I had to respect their wishes. I was really tempted to knock on her door and ask where so-and-so lived to make it seem like I was lost, but according to Father Nick, I look more like my sister than I do my biological mother, and whoever answered the door would know who I was.

I know that the next time my siblings visit the grave, if the flowers are still there, they are going to know that I was there. I am not at all bitter, resentful or disappointed with them or the way things turned out. I did what I had to do and they are doing what they have to do. I do not judge them in any way because they don’t want to see me. This is a major emotional shock for them and I understand their actions. I think that my ability to be able to deal with their “rejection” is due to my upbringing, the support of my family and friends, my experience with Operation Identity, and especially to the encouragement and support from my mom. I put rejection in quotation marks because my biological siblings’ action is rejection according to most people and all the literature I’ve read, but I don’t really consider it as such in my heart; to me, it’s more of an inability to cope with the new knowledge of my existence.

If some day I get a call from Father Nick telling me that my biological sister is interested to meet me, then I will take them in with open arms, but I am content in the fact that I already have a family that loves me and knows me and that is all that I need to know.