Cinda's
Adoption Story
My parents had wanted a baby forever. My mother was unable to have children, so they began the lengthy adoption process. A few months prior to my birth they were to receive a baby but my dad took ill so they had to refuse. That was fortunate for me because they got a call in January telling them that they had a baby girl. I can imagine the tearful joy in which they received this call, and they have loved me and cherished me throughout my entire life.
I would say that I had a normal childhood. In fact it was probably about as perfect as it could have been, retrospectively of course. We argued, what families don't? But never for a moment did I ever feel unloved, unwanted, or abandoned. I was very lucky.
I've known since I was born that I was adopted. From the time my parents brought me home from the hospital they read to me from books like "The Chosen Baby". And even when I was young I decided I wanted to find my birth mother to tell her how thankful I was to her for my parents.
In September 1999 I got to do just that. But I'm getting ahead of myself. In February 1999 I decided it was time to start searching in earnest. Via email I contacted a woman who was a birth mother and who spent her free time in the WV geneaology library in Charleston. She found my original birth certificate, my bmom's name, her parents' names and even gave me a phone number (several actually). I hung up with her and could hardly breath. But, determined I picked up the phone again, this time reaching my bgrandma. I lied to her when I asked for my bmom, because I didn't think I had the right to say anything. Afterall her mom might not have ever known about me at all. But she did, and she knew who I was. And she gave me my bmom's phone number anyway, telling me that she was away for the weekend. I had to call anyway...I don't know why but I did, and I spoke to my bmom's husband. He ALSO knew who I was, and though I didn't lie exactly (I told him I was an old friend from a long time ago) he assured me that my bmom would be thrilled to hear from me, and when she would be back.
Sunday night I called again after much debate about whether to call Sunday or Monday night. I remember the conversation as if it was yesterday though.
ME: Hi. Is this *************?
Bmom: Yes.
ME: My name is Cinda B. I have something personal I would like to discuss with you. Is this a bad time?
Bmom: I know who you are and I was wondering if you ever would call. I was hoping you would.
We spoke for almost and hour. It was incredible. I found out that a lot of things that I was told were inaccurate (my parents just relayed info that they had received, and gave me all sorts of documents they had received as well, most were incorrect). We swapped stories, talked about medical histories, exchanged phone numbers, addresses, and email addresses and have stayed in touch ever since.
In Sept 1999 she came out for a visit. We went to a football game, she stopped by my house, and then went to church together on Sunday. We don't have a lot of the same beliefs, we don't see eye to eye on a lot of things, but I am glad that she's become a part of my life.
My mom and dad hope to get to meet her some day as well. They want to thank her for giving them their daughter.
Cinda
