A story of adoption search and reunion

I began to seriously consider searching in the summer of 2001, after learning from my endocrinologist that my thyroid wasn't responsible for my weight, that I had a genetic predisposition for it. How could he possibly know that? I decided, at that moment, that I needed to prove him wrong.

Instead of actually starting to search at that time, I tried to lose weight on my own. It didn't happen. In fact, every time I saw him, about every six weeks, I learned that I was steadily gaining weight. I was sure it was the new medication I was on. Still, I couldn't get the idea out of my mind that I potentially had the "fat gene."

Finally, towards the end of the summer, when I had gained even still a few more pounds, I started looking at adoption related web sites. And then I started looking at adoption search websites. Finally, after the events of September 11th, and some crises in my home life, I knew I had to do it. What was I waiting for? I've wanted to know for a long time. What adopted kid doesn't? Well, I know a few, but that's another story.

Let me backtrack for a minute.

At one point, when I was about 25 and newly inducted into the "Watch a Live Birth" club, I began feeling an overwhelming sense of loss about my own birth and adoption. I was in a major funk for a while. In the midst of my funk, I began to understand how emotionally devastating it would be for a mother to place a child for adoption, and I was also beginning to recognize and understand the impact abandonment ultimately has on the child. I'll spare you the details of how I think it has affected me, but I can assure you it has, even in the most subtle ways.

The result of this funk-induced soul searching was a little more knowledge about the adoption process and the discovery of some resources for searching. For some reason, however, I wasn't compelled to begin a search.

Leap ahead 6 years to last fall...

I continued to explore the various adoption web sites and began reading messages posted on an adoption forum. I even posted some of my information on a search board to see if anyone was searching for me. I eventually came across a web site that listed "Searchers." Searchers will, for a fee, do the searching for you. At this point, I was getting a little obsessive about finding my birth parents and, without telling my family, I decided to contact one. She said she'd review my information and let me know how much it would be and if it was realistic to even begin to search. To make this determination, she needed all of the non-identifying information that I had about my birth parents. Thinking I actually had quite a lot (ages, ethnicity, professions, etc.), I quickly sent the information to her.

Within 24 hours, she contacted me to let me know that I didn't really have enough information to complete a successful search. She said that, based on the fact that my birth name was a common name, it would be difficult to locate more information unless I obtained the rest of my non-identifying information from the agency that dealt with my adoption. After hearing this information, my first thought was "OK, I can do this but, what was my name?" Once I started breathing again, I asked her. My name at birth was Julia J. Anderson.

Within the next couple of weeks, I requested my non-identifying information from Holy Family Services in Los Angeles. Of course there was a fee. So, after I begrudgingly wrote a check for $150.00, I immediately sent away for the information. And began to hurry up and wait.

In the meantime, since I already knew my birth name, I figured I might as well start doing a little searching on my own. My first discovery was a database on the web containing the California Birth Index (this has since been taken offline). The index lists births in California from the early part of the century to today. I was determined to find the Julia Anderson that was born in Los Angeles County in May of 1970. What I found was just that, plus a section of the birth record that listed "Jones" as the mother's maiden name. Because I knew the approximate age of my birth mother, I took a chance and searched for any women born in 1949 with a last name of Jones. I found three potential matches and then got stuck. I needed that information from Holy Family. I knew that even though it wouldn't provide names, it might give me other information that would make the trail hot once more. So, I began to wait again.

I was a little disappointed when the non-identifying information arrived. It contained information that I already knew. After looking at it for the 10 millionth time, however, it occurred to me that there was some information I didn't have. My birth mother had 2 siblings: a brother who was a couple of years younger and a sister who was ten years younger. I thought (and hoped) that they must surely have the same mother and the same last name and I could locate her that way.

Much to my surprise, when I went back to the California Birth Index, I discovered that there were three people with the same last name who were the same gender and had the same dates of birth as my birth mother and her siblings. Their last name was Jones but, more importantly, the name of the woman that could possibly be my birth mother was Betty Jean Jones. After this discovery, I attempted to search for more information. Instead, I ran smack into that great big brick wall again.

Obsessive and determined became my reigning characteristics from then on.

Realizing that I wouldn't be able to relax about this, I emailed the searcher and let her know that I had more information and was still interested in her help. She called within a couple of hours and said she could do it and that it would cost $260.00. "Great!" was my first thought. "Ouch!" was the next thought, and "Where do I find the extra $260.00?" was my last thought. Needless to say, I had to wait a few weeks to send the check.

Obsession got the better of me and I ended up paying the searcher earlier than I had planned. Much to my surprise, she called later that night with the information.

She started by saying that I had actually done most of the work for her (which made me wonder why I paid her). She confirmed that my birth mother's name was indeed Betty Jones, now Betty Hernandez, and that I had two half sisters aged 25 and 27. They all lived in Long Beach, California. She gave me her address and phone number and asked how I planned to contact her. We went over my plan, I thanked her and quickly got off the phone.

I couldn't believe it! I finally had something I'd wanted for as long as I could remember. I was thrilled, scared out of my mind about what I'd find, feeling guilty for not telling anyone in my family about what I had done, and curious. I couldn't stop talking for the next couple of hours.

This all happened on a Friday night. The following Monday, October 8th, 2001, I sent the card.

Little did I know that the day I sent the letter to my birth mother, my Mom would land in the hospital needing a cardiac stent and the story about the anthrax letters would break. I kept thinking "Great. Just my luck. My Mom is doing to die. I need her for this. And what about my birth mother? I bet she won't even open the card because I sent it without a return address. Who wants to get anthrax?" I was sure God was punishing me for searching.

By Friday, I knew that my Mom was going to be all right but I still hadn't heard from my birth mother. I was agonizing over the anthrax situation, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. So, by the following Wednesday, when I got "the call," I was totally unprepared.

We had gotten a new dog about the same time I sent the letter. I was out on the porch playing with him when the phone rang. My housemate, Lauren, answered the phone. She suddenly appeared in the doorway and let me know I had a call. I asked who it was and Lauren said "Betty." I think I stopped breathing. I know I turned white. Lauren says that she has never seen me panic the way I did that night.

I said "No, I can't do it," and started to back away from her and the phone. Lauren said, "You have to take this call." I said "No." This back-and-forth went on for a few minutes. She literally chased me around the house, trying to make me take the call. At one point, she even told Betty that I was there, she was just trying to find me. Finally, after the last "You have to take this call" and the unspoken message in her eyes that if I didn't take the call she was going to take extreme measures, I took the call.

What followed was a lovely conversation with the woman I had fantasized about all of my life. She sounded kind and thoughtful and overjoyed. She told me about my sisters, the circumstances of my adoption, her grandchildren, what she looked like, and finally my birth father's name and where she thought he lived. He was from Florida. Lawtey, Florida to be exact - about 40 miles from where I live. My birth father and I have essentially been neighbors for the last two years, not to mention the 20 or so years spent living in the same state!

Betty and I spent the next few months emailing and speaking on the phone occasionally, and in February 2002, I met her for the first time at the Orlando International Airport. My brother Seth came with me for support. The first thing that came out of both of our mouths was, "She looks like Mom!" There was something satisfying about knowing that I look like both of my mothers.

After our visit, I began to think a lot about my birth father. Betty didn't have much to say about him, but her best friend, Cathleen, said some things that made me want to meet him.

The truth is that my obsessive/compulsive behavior got the better of me and, using the Internet, I found an address and phone number for a Michael Anderson in Lawtey, Florida. Now I wanted to meet him.

I located what I thought to be his address and phone number around the holidays. I should tell you that Lawtey is kind of a scary place. Scary the way that "Deliverance" is scary. So, the thought that I could be the offspring of someone living there was terrifying! To tackle my fears and to see what kind of house, trailer, car he may reside in, my housemate Lauren and I took a little road trip to Lawtey.

Road planning was obviously not used when the streets of Lawtey were planned and paved, so we spent quite a while just trying to find the street where he lived. What we found were two driveways (without numbers) that could possibly be where his lived. The first driveway had a locked gate and it looked like it led into the woods. The second driveway has no gate, so that's the one we chose. Oh boy, was that wrong choice! It was a curvy driveway, and when we reached the last curve, we came upon abandoned cars and a couple of shacks in complete disrepair... not to mention some rabid lookin' junkyard type dogs. We backed up quickly. I prayed that wasn't his house!

Needless to say, I put the searching on hold for a little while. It wasn't until after Betty's visit that I got serious about meeting with him again.

Betty left on a Saturday, and I mailed my letter to him the following Friday.

The very next day, Lauren and I were having a peaceful weekend off from her daughter. In fact, the phone ringing kind of startled me. Lauren answered it and based on the mighty yet countrified HELLOW that came from the other end, thought it was one of her husband's old buddies. I should mention that Lauren despises the "old buddy" and was about to hang up on him when he asked to speak to me. Her first thought was, "Why would Sonny want to speak to her?" No longer sure of who it was, she asked.

"This is Mistur Andirsun," he replied. (Just so you know, Anderson is spelled that way on purpose. He really sounds like that.)

Realizing who it was, Lauren handed me the phone. The beginning of the conversation was a little weird; the rest of the conversation was pretty funny. Here's an idea of how it went:

Mike: "I got yur letter this mornin' and it got me thinkin'. So I bin sittin' here for a couple a hours tryin' to figur it all out. I think I remember yur mama. I don't member her tellin' me 'bout you though."

Me: "So, you're it. You're my Birth Father."

Mike: "Yeah, I reckon so."

As it turns out, he's a retired fireman, has two daughters, lives in a mobile home, and his mother was a War Bride from England. And, "the stuff 'bout us bein' part Seminole Indian cain't be pruvin."

He also told me he's been married three times, but "the last one don't count much, 'cause it didn't last more'n a few weeks."

He invited me to come up to the fish camp and meet his buddies or have lunch or something some day. He totally left the amount and frequency of contact up to me. I really liked that about him and I know I'll meet him in person one of these days.

As for Betty, I'm not sure when we'll be meeting again. After (and during) our visit, our relationship became a little more than I wanted to deal with, so I've backed away a bit. We still contact each other once in while, but right now, distance is a good thing for me. Ironically, her best friend Cathleen and I have become email pals. Cathleen has been able to fill Betty and me in on what's going on with the other's life. This definitely works for me. I like having a third party involved at this point.

So, was the search worth it? Did I find what I was looking for? Yes, and yes. I found that I got the best deal in all of this. I couldn't have asked for a better family or a better life. I also feel like all of the missing pieces are now in place. I am complete.

In some ways, I got much more than I bargained for. I wasn't (and I'm still not) prepared to deal with Betty's grief, guilt, loss, renewal, or hope. She's had a hard life and giving me up has played a huge part in it. I know this is part of the roller coaster ride of reunions so, I think, one day, when things settle down, we can be friends. Being just friends may be hard for her to accept, but she's going to have to because I already have a Mommy.

Oh, and by the way my endocrinologist was right. I'm actually the skinny sister in a family of horizontally challenged women.

Note from Brigid's Mom

This is the second time around for me. My second youngest daughter, Jane, has been in contact with her birth family for almost 5 years now. In fact, she's considering moving in with her half sister. The difference this time is that Jane's family searched for her, not the other way around, as it was with Brigid.

During Jane's reunion, I sent a letter to her letting her know that my prayers were with her for whatever happened once Pandora's Box was opened. I wished the same thing for my youngest.

One other thing I'd like to mention is that with eight children, our house was always open to the kids' friends and families. We considered them to be our extended family. I feel the same way about both of my daughters' birth families. They are welcome in my life as well.

© 2002