I was freaking out! I called Steve and told him what had happened. What did Elliott mean when he said he would try to "answer any questions I had?" Why couldn't I call his home? I was kicking myself now for not getting out of the shower. If I couldn't return his phone call, then how long would it be before I would actually get a chance to talk to him?
I sent him another message on Facebook messenger saying that I had received his voice mail and was sorry I had missed his call. I told him I was hoping he had some information that could help me. I also told him that I was sending him a friend request because I knew without doing sp he might not be able to see my message. I told him he could unfriend me if he wanted to after he read my message.
By this time, it was close to 12:30 and I was really running behind. I quickly got ready and picked up Zoe from my parents. I took her to drama, picked up Josiah, did our usual afternoon routine of homework and dinner, and then headed to worship team practice that evening, all the while being super distracted and unable to concentrate on whatever task was at hand.
I will never forget the moment that evening when I looked at my Facebook and saw that Elliott had accepted my friend request. My heart was in my throat. I waited and noticed that he still had not seen my message. I checked out his Facebook page in the meantime hoping that he was just doing things and would eventually get to the message. There wasn't a whole lot of activity on his page. I looked through all the pictures and read all of the comments. I confirmed that he had two children, a son, Joseph, and a daughter, Ava. Ava had posted several things on his page and I could tell that she had a really good relationship with her father. I creeped on her page for a bit too, looking at the couple of pictures that I found of her and comparing her face to mine. I could definitely see the resemblance. Elliott had been on for quite some time, but by the time he got off, he still had not seen my message.
The same thing happened all day Friday. I would see him get on for a while, then get off. His little green messenger light would come on again, and then go off. Around 11 that morning I sent him a "hello" hoping it would make the messenger window open and he would see my note. But nothing. He never saw my message and I never heard anything from him. By Friday evening, I told Steve that I was wondering if maybe Elliott didn't really know how to use Facebook.
Saturday came along and after watching Elliott get on and off Facebook again without seeing my message, I decided I needed to come up with another plan. I figured he was probably checking out my profile, just as I was checking out his, so I put a post on my wall that was made so only he could see it. It said, "I sent you a private message. I also made this message private so only you could read it."
After getting all of that set up, I hurried to get ready to go out for dinner. We were driving with my parents to Greensboro to eat dinner with my brother and sister-in-law. Their birthdays are just a couple of weeks apart, so we were celebrating them both together. We planned to meet them at their new house so we could take a tour and then to head to a Japanese restaurant where they cook your dinner in front of you.
Once I was ready, we left to pick up my parents at their house next door. Our car has three sets of seats. Steve drove with my dad in the front row beside of him. Zoe, my mom, and our exchange student, Valeria sat in the middle row. I sat in the very back next to Josiah. Since he was busy playing games on his tablet and everyone else was so far in front of me, it was hard to be involved in the conversation and it gave me time to check Facebook.
It was then that I realized that Elliott had seen my post. He said he wasn't good at Facebook and asked for my email address. He also gave me his. My heart was pounding out of my chest, and I couldn't say anything to anyone about it at that moment. I asked him if he wanted to write me first or vice versa. He told me to start.
By this time, we had reached my brother's house and I had a chance to quickly tell Steve during a private moment what was going on. He told me to email or do whatever I needed to do throughout the evening and that he would help cover for me. He understood that I was now very distracted and was stepping up to be the strong support that I had relied on so much during this whole process. Thankful for him and his help, as soon as we got in the car to go to dinner, I went back to the conversation with Elliott.
I sent him a short email saying that I was sorry I had missed his call the other day and that I hoped because he called me that it meant he had some information, especially regarding the woman, Carol, that I had mentioned in the letter. I told him that I knew I had a lot of questions that I wished to ask him, but that he could feel free to answer only what he felt comfortable answering. I also gave him permission to ask me whatever he would like.
A few minutes later, as we were sitting around the table in the restaurant, I received a response from him. It said, "I assume you are adopted and Carol is your mother." Shaking and hiding the phone under the table so as not to be obvious that I was on it during this family time, I quickly replied, "Yes, that is correct." His response to me was a question asking if I knew where Carol was. I typed a more lengthy response this time, explaining how I had been adopted through a closed adoption and because of the courts mistake, I had been able to find Carol. I told him that I was in contact with my half siblings, but by Carol's choice I did not have a relationship with her. I let him know it had been a year and a half since I had talked with her. I also told him that Carol had not given me his name.
While the emailing back and forth did not produce immediate responses, the time in between really was no more than five to twenty-five minutes each time. It seemed like an eternity. And waiting for his next response was no different. When it came, I began to read and I do believe my heart stopped in my chest.
"I was probably on the birth certificate as she told me that I was responsible for her condition. However this was a while after I had ended our brief relationship and I really do not know if I am your father or not. It was not a long relatonship and I never told anyone except the lawyer I consulted. None of my family knew anything about her. The only person I told was my wife before we were married as I did not want her to be shocked later (which is / could be now). That being said if you want to know for sure we can find out. If you know for sure tell me how."
It was him. I could not believe it. It seemed so impossible to me that I would have been able to figure it out and find him, but here it was. He didn't know for sure, but I did. I had DNA that pointed to this conclusion. I quickly responded to him and told him about the DNA testing and how I was related to people from both his mom's and dad's sides of the family. I told him how Anne had helped me and how his family had fit the profile given to me by the adoption agency. I told him while the evidence seemed to indicate that it was him, that taking a DNA test would determine it for sure.
And then I didn't hear any more from him.
We headed home from dinner and I shared with Steve everything. I reread the emails I don't know how many times. I sat and stared into space not believe that what I had just discovered could even be true. I texted our worship leader to tell her what was happening so if I was out of it during practice and the service in the morning she would know why. Then I went to bed and just lay there forever staring at the ceiling and thinking about it all.
I had found my birth father.
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