Lots going on around here, friends. Normal, everyday life stuff, stressful stuff, exciting stuff. I'm just going to address one "stuff" today, as this one is big enough to get its very own blog entry.
I believe I've mentioned my vast array of siblings before. I'm the oldest of 8 - with various configurations of parentage contributing. Last week, however, someone old but new added herself to our motley brood, and an interesting story it is, indeed.
When my mother was 17, she became pregnant. Without addressing the specifics, I will say this was a very difficult situation, and she spent a large portion of the pregnancy living with her sister and her husband in Florida. She arranged to have the baby and give her up for adoption, and then return to her parents and finish high school. Procedure for adoption was different at the time - this was a closed adoption; she was put under for the birth, and when she woke up, the baby was gone. She knew it was a girl, she hoped she went to a good family...and she was traumatized by the whole experience. She's spent the past 37 years dreaming of finding the baby she had to give up.
Three years ago, my sister became pregnant and decided to have her baby adopted. This was a completely different situation - it was an open adoption, my sister chose the parents, we all remain very close, and my scrumptious nephew is very much a part of our lives, as are his wonderful parents and brother. But my mother suffered through the experience; it dug up fresh and painful emotions she was never able to process. Eventually, through a lot of talking, crying, and hugs from the grandchild she didn't actually have to lose, she saw how different this situation was. And she was newly motivated to look for her own lost daughter. My delectable nephew's mom pointed us in the right direction, and we put mom's name on some lists, hoping that some girl out there would be looking for her birth mom, and find their information matched.
Last Monday Mom got an e-mail.
Mom told me about giving her daughter up for adoption a long time ago - I believe I was 10. My sister has been a part of our lives for years - we always knew how much Mom wanted to find her, how she hated giving her up, how she dreamed of talking to her and making sure she was ok. She was always there, in the periphery, someone we had never met, but a part of us anyway. It was very cool indeed to actually be able to talk to her on the phone last Monday night.
We have a lot of "getting to know you" to be done. She wants to stay in touch, which is great - you all know how much I love to talk, and here's someone new to tell all my stories. I'm just hoping she's not into country music - that may be a touchy subject.