The Story of My Life: Found

In the last post, I shared with you about some of the conversations that I had with Elliott in the first couple of months after my initial contact with him. Those conversations ranged from talk of Carol in the days that he knew her to me informing him of the first cousin that I shared DNA with on 23andme and everything in between. I ended my last post telling you about how Elliott had been having some health issues and how I began to wonder what I would do if something ever happened to him before I had a chance to get to know the rest of the family.  You can read all about that here.

Everything turned out fine and the medical issues were resolved without any serious results.  As it turned into summer, communication with Elliott was more sparse. Our few conversations took place mostly through Facebook messenger.

August rolled around and it came time for Elliott's birthday. I sent him a message with birthday wishes.  He responded the next evening saying he had spent the day resting.  For his birthday, he and Hazel had travelled to visit my half-sister Ava and spend the day celebrating the birthday of Melody, Ava's daughter, who shares a birthday with Elliott.  He also told me that he had tried to strike up a conversation with Hazel about the situation on the ride home.  Hazel still seemed threatened by it all and refused to discuss it with him.  He apologized to me and then said that he hoped in time that things would be different.  He asked me not to hold it against him or Hazel.  My appearance had been a shock to both Elliott and his wife and he knew that it would change who he was with everyone he knew once they found out.  His concern wasn't at much for himself as the rest of his family.  At the same time that he wanted to protect them, he also didn't like keeping things from his children. He said he knew that it was a bit convoluted, but he hoped that I would understand.

I responded to him and said this: "It doesn't sound convoluted. I totally understand. I have learned in my life that there is freedom in truth and often extra blessings that come with that truth, but it has to be in your time. No pressure from me. Glad to hear you had a good trip! Hope today is wonderful as well."

My conversation with Elliott had taken place on a Monday. The following Saturday, our family was going to be leaving to go away for a couple of days to Cherokee, NC. Steve was going to meet up with some of his guy friends there on Sunday and hang out for the day.

I never really like it when Steve is gone, whether he is out just for the evening or if he leaves on some kind of trip. Often, when he is gone, I find my anxiety levels rising or have difficulty going to sleep. I sometimes get the same tight chested feeling that I have if I am dropped off at the door of a restaurant or church where things are unfamiliar or I am surrounded by people I don't know. I had discussed this with my counselor and she told me it was an abandonment issue that comes from being adopted.

Since I wasn't really feeling like dealing with all of those emotions with Steve going away, I had convinced him that this time it might be fun if he took all of us along with him on the trip. We could do some family things on the way up on Saturday, and on Sunday while he was with his friends, I could find some fun things to do with the kids. He agreed and I was glad.

We left Saturday, stopping at the Wild North Carolina Nature Center in Asheville first. We had fun seeing the animals, walking the trails, and playing a bit of Pokemon Go. After that, we continued on to Cherokee where we took the kids to see the outdoor drama, "Unto These Hills."

Later that evening, as we were settling into the hotel, the kids were in bed and Steve and I were laying in ours messing around on Facebook. Just before going to sleep, I decided to check my email. There was an email from 23andme. It said that Keith Denton had sent me a message. In the message, he told me that he lived in Ohio and that his father was Ken Denton and his mother was Susan Martin.  

Susan Martin was Elliott's sister. My cousin had found me.

The Story of My Life: Conversations

In the last blog, I told you how Elliot had told me to check my email on Thursday morning at 9:30. I checked and he had sent me an email telling me to give him a call.  I did. And he ended up telling me my story.  You can read all about that here.

I talked with Elliott on that Thursday morning and on other Thursday mornings for several weeks following.  I would listen to him tell stories of his growing up years, learning things about him and his parents who were also my biological grandparents. 

He told me stories about my half-siblings, Ava and Joseph.  He just knew my sister would be thrilled to know of my existence.  Yet, because of Hazel's opposition to my sudden appearance, I made a promise to him that I would keep everything quiet unless a time came that his wife would be comfortable with the situation. I assured him that I would not try to approach his family and tell them of my existence unless he said it was okay. It wasn't an ideal situation, but I was just thankful for the opportunity to get to know him  and learn things that gave me a better understanding of myself.

I did alert Elliott to the fact that there was a first cousin on 23andme whose DNA matched mine.  I knew that this cousin was related to me through Elliott's side of the family.   That cousin was anonymous and had never made any contact with me.  But if he ever did, there would be no possible way to keep things a secret.  My name and picture were already public on that site. Elliott said he understood and if that happened, we would just take it as it came.

Elliott was a much more mild-mannered person than Carol and it was easy to carry on a conversation with him.  He accepted responsibility for his past mistakes and said, "It is what it is, and we can only move forward from here."  He slowly seemed to accept the idea that I truly was his offspring.  We would talk of Carol and the whole adoption situation.  I told him how I had found her and shared stories of my interactions with her.  Whenever I found myself getting angry and frustrated with her, Elliott would calm me down and tell me that I shouldn't be angry with her. He believed she really did not know who my father was and he believed that to be the reason why she wouldn't tell me anything.  At times, I couldn't believe what I was hearing coming from his mouth. Here is the one person who truly had the right to be angry with her, and he was speaking gently and kindly, offering her grace.  

Elliott had known Carol for about a year.  This time spanned from his initial meeting with her, through their "relationship" and the months following until she went away to have me in Indiana. He even had contact with her a few times in the first couple of months after I was born.  He told me how he had felt sorry for her because she always seemed "lost."  He told me about how she talked with him about giving me away for adoption and how she cried when speaking of me. This was so different than the "I never thought of you again" conversation that Carol had with me on the phone.  I began to see another side of her that she had not made known to me, and although I was still angry and upset towards her because of some of her actions during my contact with her,  I began to soften a little bit and view her from another perspective. I began to understand why it was that Carol did not want me or the others to know the truth of her circumstances. It was exactly as she had feared, that she would end up looking like a horrible person. Instead of facing the truth head on and running to healing through forgiveness and grace, she hid behind her fear of condemnation and shut the truth up inside of her. 

My parents asked me what it was like to talk with Elliott on the phone.  I could only describe it as being similar to talking with an old friend. Even though I really didn't know Elliott, there was a strange familiarity that I found comforting.  We were strangers, but we were related, and I felt a connection that is hard for me to put into words.

As summer approached,  our phone conversations pretty much ended as Hazel was no longer going to Bible study. We kept in contact occasionally through Facebook messenger.  

In May, Elliott told me that he was having some medical tests run.  The situation turned out to be more serious than he had initially thought. But because it was caught and corrected, it did not turn into a life threatening situation.  

But this got me thinking though.....what if he did endure some type of medical crisis or even worse, what if he passed away?  What would I do then? Would I make myself known to my half siblings or any other members of his family? And if not, would be I be able to live without ever having the opportunity to meet or get to know them?

The Story of My Life: My Story

In the last post,  I shared with you the struggle that was warring within me after I found out that Elliott's wife did not want him to be talking to me.  When I ended, I told you that Elliott told me not to contact him until I had heard from him again. You can read all about that here.

Thursday morning arrived.  I took Zoe over to my parents earlier than normal so I could be home at 9:30 to check my email.  Elliott was good on his promise. There was an email in my inbox waiting for me. I was not exactly sure what to expect.  All kind of thoughts had been running through my head during the week. I had prepared myself to accept the fact that he was going to tell me not to contact him anymore.  Instead, when I opened the email, he told me he had lost my number and asked me to call him.

So I did.

I dialed the number he gave me and as the phone rang, there was a queasy feeling in my stomach.  A man answered, and I could quickly tell from the tone of his voice that he was a bit nervous. I asked him about how he was feeling, and he said it was all a bit strange. I agreed with him and we shared a bit of a timid laugh.

He told me that his wife did not want him talking to me, but he did not think that was fair. He had told her this and never promised her that he would not talk to me.  He felt it only right that I know my story, so to not be in her face about it, he waited to talk to me until she was gone to her Bible study that she went to weekly.  

He again told me that he was not certain that he was my father. I assured him I understood that, and that I was willing to do whatever he needed to help him be certain, but there was no rush.  

He then began to tell me a bit about himself. How he grew up and about his college days.  He told me about his time in the service.

And then he told me about how he met my birth mother.

It wasn't the romance novel relationship that I had often wondered about. It also wasn't the affair of my birth mom with a married boss that had also crossed my mind. And it definitely was not a rape. 

Rather, it was a story of indiscretion as my birth mom had been brought into his home as a friend of the girl his roommate was seeing.  Carol had made herself readily available to Elliott that day and he willingly had taken her up on the opportunity.  This incident turned into a "convenient understanding," you might say, as Carol and her friend quickly convinced the boys that it would be so much easier if they all just cohabitated.  This continued for a few weeks, until one night Carol went to a work party and didn't come home afterwards. She had not stayed in her apartment in town, which was her original plan, as she phoned the next morning asking her friend to bring her the key to the apartment that she had left at the house. When Elliott realized what was going on, he immediately kicked her out. He had hoped that they would become serious about their relationship, but when this happened, he realized that was not the case with her.

Not long afterwards, Carol came to Elliott saying that she was pregnant and that he was the one responsible for this.  He felt set up and trapped. She had told him she was on birth control.  It just didn't feel right to him and since he knew she had been "friendly" with more than one person, he just couldn't believe the child was his, even though he knew it was a possibility.   

He consulted with a lawyer who advised him to give her some of the money she was asking for to take care of the adoption and have her sign an agreement that said he would not be held responsible for the child.  

And for forty plus years he had believed that child didn't belong to him.... until he received my letter.  

As we both were there on the phone, talking and trying to work through our own emotions of this moment, he said to me, "I may not understand why all this happened, but this one thing I know, God created you to be a gift to your parents." 

And with that, tears filled my eyes.  Because with that one statement, I knew that he understood, I was not an accident, I was planned. 

There was a hole in my heart that was healed that day. A hole that for so long I never realized existed. But God knew, and He being the healer that He is, brought it to be. All praise be to Him.

The Story of My Life: The Struggle

In the last post that I wrote, I told you about how I waited to hear back from Elliott and had not heard anything. I then wrote to him asking him if he was okay.  He responded to me, and I had a few thoughts regarding that email.   You can read all of those thoughts here.

Since I now knew that his wife did not want him talking with me, I began to realize just what this could mean in my efforts to know my own truth. It may just mean that I had come this far only to know who my birth father was but not how I came to be.  

And I have to be honest, I was struggling with that realization. This is where the emotions of the heart began to collide with the logic in my head and began to spiral rapidly out of control. I would like to be able to say that I was waiting patiently on the Lord during this time, but indeed I was not. While I trusted God knowing He always has my good in mind, I also knew that sometimes that good means that I am not going to get what I want or what I am hoping for. 

My heart wanted more than anything to know.  I had come so far and learned so much. Once the door had been opened and I had been given a taste of my truth, I desired more and found the quenching of that desire bit by bit to be a sweetness that led to me to search even harder for the next means of satisfaction.

My head told me I was blessed. That in just knowing who my birth father was I had been given a gift that was more than I had ever hoped would happen. And my head was right. 

But then my heart would hurt because I couldn't understand why I would not be allowed to talk with the man who contributed half of the DNA required for me to even exist.

My head would respond and say that my heart was right, because to keep someone from talking to a genetic relation when the person making that decision was not related at all seemed wrong.

But then my head would always end up saying, she is his wife and has been for forty years.  She hold the highest role in his life and I knew that this fact trumped all. 

But what could I do about it? Nothing, but wait and pray and continue to try to calm the battle that was waging within me.

I went to the doctor that week and my blood pressure was 150 over 95. I had to begin monitoring it on a regular basis and watching my diet.

My sleep became very irregular as I would lay in bed with thoughts continuing to haunt me even in my dreams.

My relationship with my husband and family was affected as I was so overwhelmed with emotions and feelings that any little thing would seem to set me off.

I was so distracted by it all, that as I left to go pick up our exchange student up from youth group,  I backed my car out of the garage in so much of a hurry that I did not notice Steve had parked his truck in a different place.  As I turned and the front right side of my bumper thumped and screeched against the side of the truck, I screamed. I had backed out and turned so hard, that the force caused the car to get stuck. I went into the house yelling and screaming to get Steve to come help me, which he calmly did.  As he watched me leave in his truck to pick up Valeria, he said he was concerned that I was somehow going to have a mental breakdown as a result of it all. And honestly, I began to wonder that myself.

I began to realize that my struggle was with God. I believed that he had led me this far in my search, sending information or people to help me along the way at what seemed to be exactly the right times.  So it was difficult for me to think that he would just leave me hanging and shut the door so close to the finish line.

I was reminded of Romans 8:28, a favorite verse of mine. It says, "All things work together for good to them that love God...." This was the moment where my faith was really going to be put to test.  Not a faith that was saying God said all would END good, but that he said all would BE good.  I had to believe this.  If I never spoke to Elliott again and never learned the truth, it was for my good. As difficult as this realization was, I did the best I could to keep reminding myself of it.  I would like to say that all of my worry and frustration disappeared, but it didn't.  But God was using this time to continue to grow me and refine me in many ways.

I waited four days to respond to the email he had sent me. I thought that by not being in a hurry, it might give Hazel a chance to work through things.  When I wrote to Elliott, I didn't say much but assured him that my parents, and especially my Dad, knew all about my search.

He responded later that day and said that Hazel still did not think he should communicate with me.  He told me not to contact him anymore until I had heard from him. 

Then he told me to check my email on Thursday morning at 9:30 a.m.....

The Story of My Life: The Waiting Game Begins

I left off the last post, having written a letter to Elliot.  I had awoken the day after our brief email exchange with a new piece of understanding about myself, one where for the first time in my life I knew who I had come from.  As I thought to myself all of the things that might be going through Elliott's mind, I wrote him a letter to try to ease any concerns he had.  You can read that letter here.

Then I had no choice but to sit back and to wait. And wait I did. It seemed like forever.  Sunday drug on into Monday, Monday into Tuesday and so forth.  I would check my email and then check it again two minutes later to see if something would show up in my inbox.  I was so disappointed every time when there was nothing from him. I found myself engulfed with thoughts of Elliott no matter what I did to try to distract myself.  I could not go anywhere or do anything without thinking about him or talking about the situation with Steve or any close friend that would lend an ear.  Finally, on Thursday morning, I sent him a message on Facebook. "Are you doing okay?" is all that it said.  Later that day I received a reply from him. 

It generally went something like this.  He told me he was okay, sort of.  He had told his wife, Hazel,  about my contact with him and let her read our emails.  Even though she had known about the possibility that a child of his existed out there somewhere, she was obviously upset by the fact that I had shown up.  She had cried and asked him not to speak with me anymore. Elliott told me that she knew he did not feel the same way about the situation.  Their week had been busy and he had not had an opportunity to have more discussions with her about the situation.  He did not feel like it was fair to me to be left in the dark, so he wanted to let me know what exactly was going on.    And then, he told me if I had not already told my dad about searching for and finding him, that I shouldn't. He did not want me to hurt my dad in that way. He said, "You know he truly is your father." He then told me to prepare myself for the fact that he might not be my father, as he was preparing himself for the opposite. 

It wasn't a long email, but it held a lot for me.  First of all, I could tell by the way that he ended it, that this was a huge deal for him.  After forty plus years of thinking that he was not responsible for the child that Carol carried, Elliott was face to face with the possibility that indeed he might be my father. This had to be a shock to him.  I could tell it was going to take some time for him to be able to settle in on that fact.  I had been searching and therefore I was eager and in a hurry to find out more answers and know the truth of my story,  but I would have to be willing to be patient and give things time. That was going to be very difficult for me to do.

Secondly, I very much appreciated the concerns Elliott had for my dad.  I personally wasn't concerned because just like the situation with Carol, I had kept my parents in the loop of everything that was going on. My dad knew of my search and my contact with Elliott.  I knew that both of my parents knew I was not looking to replace either of them with someone else, but the fact that Elliott had thought of my dad and in fact wanted to protect him in the process was a relief. After the incidents with Carol when she referred to herself as my "momma," I was comforted to know that if this were to turn into any type of relationship down the road, that Elliott seemed to already have a respect for the relationship I had with my dad and did not want to do anything to cause it harm.

Last of all, I wasn't sure what to do with the fact that Hazel did not want Elliott talking to me.  I mean, I could understand it.  It was a surprise to her (and to him) that I had showed up out of nowhere. I was sure she must be in shock. I cannot imagine the thoughts she might have about what other people might think if they found out that her husband had a child out of wedlock. I could understand how this could be a huge concern for her. How do you go about explaining that to people? She didn't know me or anything about me, so there were lots of possibilities that could have been going through her head. I began to research adoption reunions involving daughters and birth fathers where the wife of the father was not happy with the situation. There are so many stories of adoptees who show up out of nowhere who try to take advantage of their birth parent.  Some try to get some kind of financial gain from their birth parent making them feel guilty or that they birth parent "owes them." Then there are the cases where the adoptee and the birth parent or sibling find themselves caught up in a case of genetic sexual attraction. In these instances, the adoptee and the blood relative end up involved in some type of romantic relationship with each other. Because there is a bit of familiarity and connection with someone who shares your DNA, yet there is still the excitement of getting to know the unknown about that person, in the process sometimes they find themselves falling in love. I knew that was a ridiculous reason from my viewpoint, but it does happen, so it could be a valid concern. Then there is the viewpoint that no matter if it was an ideal situation or not, Hazel would find herself on the outside.  I had learned by this point that Elliott had two children, a son, Joseph and a daughter, Ava.  With Elliott being my biological father, that would make me half siblings with Joseph and Ava and no relation at all to Hazel.  She would in essence be the "step-mother."  This could also be a very difficult situation to be in. 

With all of the different viewpoints that I studied and researched, I could totally understand Hazel's point of view, but on the other hand, I couldn't understand it at all. But then again, I have never found myself in this type of situation. Steve has not had someone just show up out of nowhere claiming to be his child.  But I would hope that if that happened, that I would be gracious and accept that person.  But since I am not there,  who is to say what would happen.  

 I just prayed that in time, she would get past her initial feelings and accept the situation and accept me. And I tried desperately myself to accept the situation I was in. But as the minutes turned into hours and the hours into days, I found myself slowly unwinding....

The Story of My Life: A New Awakening

In the last post, you read about my contact with Elliott.  He told me in an email that he had been in a brief relationship with my birth mother and that he was not for sure he was my father.     I however was convinced because of the DNA evidence that I had and the fact that he knew Carol. You can read our whole email exchange here. 

After a restless night's sleep, Sunday morning came and I had to get myself up and ready for church. I was playing the piano in the worship team that morning, so I had to be at church for practice by 9:00.  As I was getting ready, all of my thoughts were consumed by the events of the previous night.  

Then it hit me, for the first time ever in my life, I had woken up knowing were I had came from.  I didn't know all of the intimate details, but at that point, I didn't need to. I knew who and the basic reason of why and that was enough. It was more that I had ever dreamed I would know.  And it was overwhelming.  I felt so truly blessed.  So many adoptees never have this opportunity and I didn't know why I had been given this chance. I knew God had allowed this as his hand was evident throughout all of my searching. I felt that he had guided me along the way, giving me just the right piece of information at the right time or using someone to help guide me in the right direction. 

When I arrived at the church for band practice, I wasn't sure how I was going to be able to hold it together. The pastor's wife, who was leading worship that week, came over to the piano where I was and said, "Is it a good thing?" My eyes welled with tears and I told her that I just couldn't talk about it right now.  Somehow I made it through practice and the service.  I don't remember much about the rest of the day. I am pretty sure I spent much of it just sitting and staring into space, consumed with a wide variety of thoughts, mostly about Elliott.  

I had begun at that point in time to really think about what this discovery might mean for him.  He said he wasn't sure I was his.  Although he had questions, I didn't. I would have to be patient and allow him to come to his own conclusions.  But also, what kind of impact what this going to have on his family. Obviously from his email I realized that no one else, except his wife, knew about me.  I figured that was why his brother, Dave, never responded to my Facebook message, because he had been completely unaware of the situation. I had thought maybe a family member would have known if Elliott was in a relationship with Carol, but I had thought wrong.  What exactly had gone on with him and Carol that his family didn't know about her? All kinds of thoughts started whirling around in my head.  

As the day wore on and I hadn't heard anything more from Elliott, I began to grow concerned.  What was he thinking? Was he ever going to contact me again?  Did he think I wanted something from him? Did he think I was going to try to push myself upon him and his family and demand to be a part? Was he even okay because of this or had I hurt him through this process? Fear began to creep in along with some anxiety. I began to realize that just like Carol, he ultimately had the choice of whether or not he wanted to have a relationship with me. And he may very well choose not to and that thought scared me.  He didn't know me or anything about me.  He didn't know what kind of person I was or what I was expecting. So I decided to send him a letter to let him know what I was thinking about the whole situation and hopefully alleviate any concerns that he might be having.

Here is what I wrote:

Hey Elliott!

I don’t want to bother you as I am sure you are bit overwhelmed and full of questions at the moment. I am sure you are thinking what to do from here forward. I am hoping maybe what I am going to say will help lay aside some of your concerns and that you will find it helpful.

My motive behind looking for you was solely for information. I just wanted to know who you were, how you met Carol, what happened that I came to be. Up until four years ago when my dad suggested I look for Carol, I had never considered looking for either of you. I was happy and content with being adopted and resolved to the fact that there were a lot of things about myself that I would never know.  But once I began searching and starting learning things about myself, it lit a fire in me to try to fill the holes from questions that I had always assumed would never be answered. I have told several people that being adopted is like reading a book starting with the third chapter. While the story basically makes sense, the beginning is missing. That is how I felt about my life. I found Carol, and that answered some questions. But there were a lot of details that were unaccounted for….mostly concerning my birth father.  For that reason, I studied my DNA tests, did countless hours of comparing family trees of people who matched me trying to figure out how it was all connected.  I truly believe God led me to you through the suggestions given to me by Cousin Anne. Otherwise there would have been no way that I would ever have even known where to begin. And today for the very first time in my life, I awoke with a peace of knowing that I knew…..I knew who I was and where I began.

With that being said, I want to apologize if somehow I have done something to hurt you in this process. That NEVER was my intent. I have tried many times to put myself in your shoes and to imagine what it would be like if someone just showed up saying they were my child. I have asked my husband how he would feel and asked him for advice many times. I have tried to picture what it would be like if someone showed up saying they were my husband’s child. I cannot imagine what your wife must be feeling at this moment. For the past month since I figured this all out, I have prayed for you daily. Prayed that God would give you strength to go through this if it was to be. Prayed that he would divinely intervene if it wasn’t. I truly believe all things happen for a reason, even if we don’t understand what that reason might be. Obviously there must be some reason for this all.

With all that said, while I am not at all opposed to the thought of getting to know you better, I want you to know that I believe that choice is yours and I plan to respect whatever you decide.  You were not looking for me. You were not asking for me to show up and alter your life. It is a completely different situation than it was when I found Carol. She had told my siblings about me. They had been looking for me for years. They wanted to find me.They knew that if they ever found me, their lives would change and they were ready for that.   I would never be able to forgive myself if by doing this I somehow caused harm to you,  your marriage, or your family.  I have no intention of going to any of them to proclaim who I am. If that is to be known, it will come from you. It is your story to tell, not mine. 

Thank you for helping me know who I am.

Lorena

I sent the email and then all I could do was wait....

The Story of My Life: The Search Was Over

In the last post, you read how I had been in the shower when my phone rang. I didn't hop out and answer it right away, figuring if it was important, whoever was calling would leave a message.  When I finally checked, there was a voice mail.  It was from Findlay, Ohio.  When I finally quit shaking enough to listen to the message, it was from Elliott.  He told me to try to connect with him on Facebook and to please not call his home.  You can read all about that here.

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.

The Story of My Life: And the Phone Rings...

The last time I wrote, I told you I had figured out just how Elliott's family tree was connected to my second cousin, J.S.,  on Ancestry.com.  Elliot's dad was married to J.S.'s mom's cousin.  Now that I knew their families were connected, I knew that there were no other possibilities for my birth father other than Elliott or his brother, Dave. Because Elliott fit the profile from the adoption agency, I had written him on Facebook.  He never responded so I decided to send him an actual letter instead. You can read all about that here.

I mailed the letter on Friday, March 4th.  After I mailed it, I wasn't really sure what I needed to prepare myself for.  All these different scenarios kept popping in my head.  After all, who is to say he would even respond if he got the letter.  If he didn't know I existed, which there was always that possibility, the letter might not mean anything to him.  If he was the one to have a relationship with Carol, whose to say that relationship was anything more than a one night stand and that he would even remember who she was. Who was to say that he would be the one to even get the letter.  Maybe someone else opens his mail for him. I tried to prepare myself for the worst while still being hopeful for the best.

Every night when I went to bed, I would just lay there and pray.  Pray that if my birth father was Elliott, that he would be receptive to the letter and that he would respond. And then I prayed for his wife.  I tried to put myself in her shoes and imagine what it would feel like if my husband had a child that popped up out of nowhere.  I just knew that wouldn't be easy, especially since I had learned through my research that he had been married to the same lady for almost 40 years. 

Every day dragged on. I tried to focus on the tasks I needed to get done, but I would find myself at times just staring blankly into space thinking about it all.  I felt like I was so very close, but yet the littlest things were huge walls between me and what I was hoping to learn and know.

It is now Thursday, March 10th, six days after I had mailed the letter.  Zoe was being homeschooled at the time. My parents were splitting the subjects and teaching time with me.  I was teaching the math and science and they were teaching the reading/phonics and social studies. I would teach her my subjects and then drop her off at their house next door around 10:00. Most days she would stay there until after I had picked Josiah up from school.  On Thursdays, though, I would pick her up at 1:00 and take her to drama class before heading to pick up Josiah from his school.  This Thursday was no different.

I don't remember exactly what I was doing after I dropped Zoe off at my parent's house.  Whatever it was, I ended up getting ready pretty late in the day.  It was noon and I was just hopping in the shower.  I remember standing in there listening to Chris Tomlin's song, "Good, Good Father" playing over the bluetooth speaker in my bathroom.   I love how the second verse of the song seems to fit my current situation.  The lyrics go like this: 

I've seen many searching for answers far and wide
But I know we're all searching
For answers only you provide
'Cause you know just what we need
Before we say a word

It is a great song! If you have never had the chance to hear it, you can go here to check it out. 

Anyway, back to the story. I was in the shower, listening to the song, when my phone rang. I remember thinking, "Oh, I should get that. It is probably someone from the school calling."  I didn't feel like hopping out of the shower in a hurry and getting water all over the floor though. Then I thought, "Ah....whoever it is can leave a message.  I can call them back in a few minutes."

I finished up and got out of the shower. I was still dripping a bit. I walked over to my phone curious to see who had called.  It was a number I didn't recognize so I was glad I hadn't hurried to answer it.  I checked to see if they had left a voice mail message and they had.  I don't know if you have an iPhone or not, but I do, and when someone calls you that is not in your contacts, it tell you what city they are calling from based on the area code of the number.  When I saw the city that the call had come from, I started shaking. It came from Findlay, Ohio.

I started pacing the floor, shaking the whole time. I knew that I should listen to the message, but I was so scared.  Finally, I was able to take some deep breaths and calm down enough to be able to listen to the message.  It went something like this:

"Hello, this is Elliott Martin.  I received a letter from you last week.  Why don't we connect on Facebook and I will try to answer whatever questions you might have.  Please don't call my home."

The Story of My Life: Almost Certain

Last time you read about how I began searching and found the obituary of George Martin from Findlay, Ohio.  He had five children, two of which were sons.  The things I found out about his one son, Elliott, seemed to fit the description provided to me by the adoption agency.  So thinking that maybe I had found my birth father, I wrote him on Facebook Messenger and then waited.  You can read all about that here.

I had dealt with Facebook Messenger and the difficulties with the other party not receiving your messages if you aren't "connected" on Facebook before when I was trying to first contact my half-brother Brent's wife, Alyssa.   This was a couple of year prior to the time I was writing to Elliott.  When I had written to Alyssa, my message had gone to her "other mailbox" until I paid a dollar for it to go directly to her inbox.   This time, Facebook did not offer me the option of paying the dollar.  I knew from other experiences that Elliott probably would not see my message unless it was by some random chance. I even did the whole "Invite Elliott to Messenger" thing in hopes that would alert him that I had written to him.  Still nothing.  

In the meantime, I started thinking about what I had done.  I mean, really, what are the chances that I could go through someone's family tree, find a family that appears to fit the description of my birth father's family, choose one of the men in the family and think he was my birth father?  It was so crazy and I knew it.  The more I thought about it, the more I began to doubt my discovery.

Then a thought occurred to me.  If I was related to Elliott, then my relation to fourth cousin Anne was through his father's side.  If I was related to Elliott, then how would I be related to the second cousin, called J.S., that was on ancestry.com?  Somewhere, there would also have to be a connection between Elliott and him.  It wasn't through Anne's side of the family, as J.S. did not share any DNA with Anne at all.  I figured that maybe the connection came through Elliott's mother's side of the family.  I began looking for that connection. The family trees would have to cross or my research would have been faulty.

It is now about a week after I have written Elliott.  I am sitting at home working on the research.  I started with Elliott's mom.  I will call her Mary Alice. She had died in 1995, so I was not able to find an obituary to help me with her parent's names. I turned to ancestry.com's database in hopes that I would be able to find something. I searched and searched, but it was like her parents were not to be found.  Then somehow, I don't even know how, I stumbled across something.  It had her name written as Alice Mary.  I thought it would be worth a try to put her name in backwards from what I had been doing and when I did, what popped up on the screen made me about fall out of the chair.

I am tempted to end this blog right here, but for the sake of many that I know who would struggle with that, I will continue. ;)

Remember when I told you I had been researching that second cousin, studying his family tree for hours on end because so many of his family was from Ohio??  I probably could have almost drawn his family tree for you from memory.  So when the information popped up with the name of her parents on it, I immediately recognized them from J.S.'s family tree.  It was a set of names I had looked at over and over and over again with no results.

Now I was shaking. I called Steve and again tried to explain to him what I had discovered and mostly what this discovery meant.   Since I was related to Anne and I was related to J.S., the cross of the two family trees happened right there with George and Mary Alice. With the cross being at their parents,  the only possible people that could be my birth father were Elliott or Dave.  There were no other options.

With this newfound bit of certainty, I became a bit more brave. I decided that I would also write to Dave.  Even though I really thought that Elliott was the more likely candidate, I knew there was still a possibility it could be Dave.  The other thought I had was this:  If Elliott had been in a relationship with Carol, then maybe Dave knew about it and could tell me so or he would contact Elliott and let him know I was looking for him.

I copied the same letter that I had sent to Elliott and sent it to Dave on Facebook messenger.  I did the whole "Invite to Messenger" thing with him as well.

I don't remember how long it was before I was alerted that "Dave has accepted your messenger request".  It might have been a week or so. My stomach was in my throat because I knew then that someone had seen the message.  But then....nothing.  There was no answer.  

I didn't really know what I was going to do.  I didn't have peace to do anything other than what I had already done.  I felt like when the time was right, God would give me direction.  I had been praying about the whole thing from the first time I wrote Elliott.  I prayed for him that if he was my birth father, he would be open to talking with me about it all. And I prayed for his wife. I knew from my research that he had been married to his wife, Hazel, for about 40 years. I knew that there was a possibility that my birth father never knew that I existed and if that were the case and Elliott was him, I knew there could be problems.  I didn't want to make problems for anyone. All I wanted was to find out some answers for myself. 

One day about a month after I had written to Elliott, I was talking on the phone with my friend, Jude, about the whole thing.  She said, "Lolo, you just need to write him a letter - good ol' fashioned snail mail."  I knew instantly that was what I was supposed to do.  I got off the phone with her, and later that day I wrote out exactly what I had written to him on Facebook.  At the end, I included my email address and phone number in case he wanted to contact me.  I addressed the letter with his address that I had found on the internet, put a stamp on it, and before I had time to change my mind, I drove to the post office and dropped the letter in the mailbox. 

The Story of My Life: Could It Possibly Be??

If you remember, in the last blog I told you about sweet cousin Anne.  She was my predicted fourth cousin on ancestry.com.  She had written to ask if I knew how we were related. The only thing I was able to tell her was that I was related to her through my biological father that I did not know since I was adopted.  She had noticed on my profile that I had said some of my family was from Findlay, Ohio. She suggested that I begin looking at the line of descendants coming from one of her sets of great, great, great grandparents.  You can read about all of that here.

Anne had been helping me some and we had decided that it was possible that I could have descended from her great, great, great grandparents, Sophia and Solomon.  I put their names on a family tree and begin working on finding all of their descendants.  As it got closer to modern times, the searching became more difficult as ancestry does not publicly list the names of anyone who is still living.  You have to search obituaries and other public listings on the internet to try to determine these pieces of information. 

Anne had first contacted me in November.  It is now the very beginning of February.  I was home working one day on all of this, when I came across a name on one of the branches of the family tree.  I will call this person George Martin.  George was from Findlay and had passed away in 2011.  Since his death was fairly recent, I was able to locate an obituary online fairly easily.  As I began to read the obituary taking notice of all of the details included in it, I began to get a funny feeling in my stomach.

It said George was survived by his two sons, Elliott and Dave, and by his three daughters, Susan, Ella, and Janice.   Now I don't know if you remember all of the details that were listed on the non-identifying information from the adoption agency , but there were FIVE children in my bio-father's family and there were FIVE children in George's family.  I kept reading....

I read that George had owned a business.  After much research, I learned that his sons had been involved with and taken over the business.  My bio father was the Vice President of a family business that his father owned.

Then I read that George had been a member of a Lutheran church. My birth father's religious preference was listed as Lutheran.

I then turned to one of my favorite research sites - Facebook.  Yes, I admit,  I may be pretty good at being a Facebook creeper. This time though, it was for research, so I did it shamelessly.  

I found profiles for Elliott and Dave.  Almost from the get go, I felt that if my biological father were one of them, it would be Elliott. His profile was private, but the information that could be seen was exactly what I needed to know. In his profile picture he was outdoors and wearing glasses.  He graduated from a university with a business degree before I was born. His birthday was listed and I realized that he would have been 27 at the time of my birth. All of this matched the information from the adoption agency. 

My heart was pounding. I called Steve. He wanted to know how I had come to the conclusion that Elliott could possibly be him.  I tried to explain, but I am not sure he completely understood. I don't think he believed it possible that I could have found my birth father on the first try.  And maybe he was right.  I wasn't sure exactly what I ought to do.

I wrote to cousin Anne to see if she knew anything about him.  She said she really didn't know too much about that part of the family. She suggested that maybe I should write him a letter. 

I thought about it and continued researching in the meantime, frantically and as fast as I could.  I found pictures of Elliott from his high school and college yearbooks.  He was skinny as could be and I could see remnants of my own face from my younger days in his pictures.  I was becoming more and more convinced as the day went on.  

So, I began to research how to write to someone when you think they might be your birth father.  I found some really helpful suggestions, the most important being that you don't come right out and suggest that or ask them directly in case someone else were to come across the letter before they do.  One person suggested that you write a letter saying that you are working on your family tree and ask if they might be willing to help you.  That sounded reasonable to me, so I sat down to compose a letter. 

I wrote to Elliott and told him that I knew we were related because I was related to cousin Anne through great, great, great grandparents Sophia and Solomon so I knew I was related to him.  I told him I was interested in learning more about relatives who were business owners in the Findlay, Ohio area in the 1970's.  Then I said I knew there was a woman named Carol Close who was also somehow connected to the family, and I was trying to figure out what that connection might be.  I asked him to contact me if he were willing to help me with my research.

After writing the letter, I sent it to Elliott via Facebook messenger.  And then there was nothing I could do but pray and wait. 

The Story of My Life: Cousin Anne

Last time I told you how Brad, Jessie and I had all done testing through 23andme.  Once our results were in, I was able to use them, along with the family tree from Carol's side of the family, to start determining which family line my different DNA relatives were from.  I had an anonymous first cousin match that I knew was on my father's side of the family, but he never responded to any of my messages. You can read all about that here.

Trying to figure anything out by using my DNA and people's family trees was pretty much like looking for a needle in a haystack.   If I had a predicted second cousin match, for example, I would have to try to figure out who on that person's family tree (if they had a family tree) could possibly be our common ancestor.  For a second cousin, assuming the relationship prediction is correct, we would share a set of great-grandparents.  We all have two sets of grandparents and then four sets of great-grandparents, eight sets of great-great grandparents, and sixteen sets of great-great-great grandparents.  The number of sets of grandparents doubles for every generation you go back.  So the further away a relation is to you, the more possibilities there are for you to choose from when looking for that common ancestor.  It would get complicated at times, because a person who shares the same percentage of DNA with me and is predicted to be my second cousin, could actually be a first cousin twice removed or a half-first cousin.  This is why 23andme originally thought my relationship with Jessie was a grandmother-granddaughter relationship. We share close to 25% of our DNA so I could have been her grandmother/daughter or a half-sibling.   I know that this is a bunch of nerdy talk, so I hope that you are able to follow me as I keep going.

I would sit and take every relative, starting with the closest related to me, who I knew was related from my birth father's line and try to find that common ancestor. I would go back however many generations I needed to for that predicted relationship and then once I found all of the however many great grandparents, I would then sit and try to construct a tree made up of all of their descendants.  Can I just say that a lot of these people that I was researching had large families with lots and lots of children?? It took forever.  If I was fortunate, someone on Ancestry.com had a public family tree which made researching so much easier.  But then to complicate things even more, if a person is currently living, Ancestry.com does not publish their name on any family tree. They are just listed as private.  I found myself googling in hopes of finding obituaries or websites that would help give information as to who those living people might be. 

I spent hours and hours and hours, looking at family trees and names, just hoping that somehow, somewhere I would come across names that would match on people's trees that would give me a clue.  If I could just figure out one common ancestor between a couple of people who matched me, that would at least start me in the right direction. I did find lots of people who lived in the Ohio, Indiana and midwest region.  I spent more time pouring over those trees and trying to see if there was any connection between them. One of those people was a second cousin match, the closest match through my father's side on Ancestry.com.  He had a tree and by the time I was done studying it, I could tell you all about the Brown family that lived in Ohio, but alas, nothing was found that was of any significance to me.

You might be wondering what exactly I was looking for and how I would know when I had found it.  Do you remember the two paragraphs of non-identifying information I had on my birth father from the adoption agency?  I talked about it back in this blog.  It wasn't much, and I wasn't even sure whether it was true or not, but I was trying to find a family that somehow matched this description -  a family with five children, where the father and son were in business together.  I figured if I could find that, then maybe some of the other descriptors would match too. 

After months of searching,  God sent the key that would unlock the puzzle.  Meet cousin Anne.  Anne is a sweet lady in her 60's who also happens to be my 4th-6th predicted cousin on Ancestry.com.  She first contacted me on November 30, 2015 to see if by chance I knew how we were related.  I had been contacted before by many "cousins" and I had even contacted a few myself.  It seemed that many times when I mentioned I was adopted that people were suddenly no longer willing to help and just didn't respond anymore or there was nothing that they could offer to really be of assistance.  But this time was different. 

Anne had noticed from my profile that I had said part of my family was from Findlay, Ohio.  She said that could possibly be a clue.  She suggested that I begin researching one of her sixteen sets of great-great-great grandparents who had descendants who were also from that area.  She was very helpful and gave me some tips on how to make mirror trees and figure out where my strongest DNA matches were on a family tree.  We were in contact for a couple of months, trying our best to figure this thing out. I was slowly researching that line when suddenly, one day in very early February, I stumbled across something....

Until next time. ;)

The Story of My Life: Sorting It All Out

In the last post, I told about how I had contacted Carol's half-siblings. Because of that connection, I now know all kinds of things about that side of the family. I have medical history, a family tree and stories of the sweet grandmother I was never able to meet.  You can read all about that here.

Right about the same time as I found the aunts, I had also decided to do another DNA test. I figured it would not hurt me to put my DNA out there in as many places as possible if I was hoping to figure out this whole birth father mystery.  I had originally tested with ancestryDNA.  The closest relative I had was a second cousin and I really had no clue how she was related to me.  I decided to do another test with 23andme, the other big DNA company.  Not long after I send my test in,  Jessie and Brad decided they would take one too.  We were all curious to see what kind of information we could find out about ourselves.  

One by one, our results came in. We all got a good laugh when Jessie's came back.  23andme predicted that she was my granddaughter. I went in an corrected that assumption really quickly.  I may be older than her, but I am not THAT much older.

Once everyone had their results, I was able to start the process of figuring out how people were related to  me.  If a DNA match was related to all three of us, that meant they were related through our mother.  My new aunt Jan's husband, Ray, had given me a family tree for Carol's side of the family. Using this information, I was able to figure out which of the relations were related to us through our grandmother and who was related to us through our unknown grandfather.  Turns out, the lady who was my second cousin and closest match on ancestry is related to me through our unknown grandfather.  We worked together for a while, to try to figure out who he might be, but to this day it is still a mystery.

My very closest match though, came on 23andme.  It was a first cousin match.  A male who was anonymous and he was related only to me.  Brad and Jessie were not matches. I still remember the uptight feeling I would get in my stomach whenever I would see him on my match list.  Such a close relative. He could be the key to solving this whole thing. If I could just figure out who he was, the mystery could be solved in a very short time.  I tried contacting him on a couple of different occasions and received no response. I just kept on hoping that one day he would answer.

In the meantime,  I would take every close match I had on ancestry or 23andme and try to figure out all of their close relatives to see if I could find a family that seemed to match the description given in the non-identifying information from the adoption agency. Sometimes, for days on end, I would sit at the table with my laptop and papers with people's family trees drawn all over them spread everywhere. I would work until I was so tired of researching and then I would take a couple of weeks break, only to come back to it and find myself repeating the process over and over again.  Some days, I would feel my task was hopeless, while other days I was sure the answer was just around the bend. I worked like this for a year.  And then in November of 2015, God sent someone along to help guide me in the right direction....