Happily Ever After

 “Finally.” She sighed as she held me tightly for the first time. I can’t  imagine the strength it must have taken for her to never see me at birth,  the small treasure she had carried for nearly nine months. Now, twenty-one
years and ninety-one days later here I was. Here I was. Completely numb to everything that was happening around me. What am I doing here, again? Who is this strange woman, and why is she so upset? I felt a miniature panic attack forming in the pit of my stomach. Amazingly, it reached my face in the form of a smile as she took our picture with her phone.  I’m not even sure what words escaped from my mouth at this point, I’m just so happy that I was rescued by my husband who jumped in with the five words of  Spanish that are in his vocabulary,  “Hi Esther,  I’m Caleb!”  We hurried  over to baggage claim and chit chatted in a mix of Spanish and English about the flight, her first impressions of the US, and about her family  back home.  After successfully retrieving luggage and finding our car in the parking garage maze, we began the trek back to South Carolina.

Growing up I used to imagine her. She was beautiful. She had long dark hair, and was petite like myself. I would imagine her married and happy, with other children who looked like me when I was their age. And I would think about her, thinking about me...

There was always that piece of the puzzle that was missing from me, and it was her.  I convinced myself that she was missing it too, and if we could just see each other then the picture would be whole. We would have a magical connection and be best friends, because she would be like me and we would understand one another in a way that no one else ever could.

Here she was. All my dreams could now come true because I found my puzzle piece. Only this wasn't a fairy tale. It wasn't even a movie, or a book. This was reality, and the reality was I had slipped into some form of a coma back at the airport that I still hadn't been able to come out of. While I was emotionless, she was every form of emotion.

Now that she had me back, she had no plans of letting me go again.

Every morning she made me breakfast before I went into work. She spent her days working on wedding favors and programs. She took every opportunity to kiss my head, wrap her arms around me, and tell me she loved me. What was wrong with me? It was all I could do to muster up a "good morning." Guilt overcame me as I began to push myself away from her, further shutting myself off emotionally. This guilt grew as I overheard talking to Caleb from another room. "I know she doesn't love me."

Did I not? Shouldn't that be innate or something, the connection between a mother and child?

And it was then I began to more deeply understand a paramount lesson. Family has nothing to do with blood or genetics. Parents are the people that love you when you fail, sing happy birthday to you year after year, take care of you when you are sick, and teach you valuable truths.  They are the ones you trust with every part of you--even the ugly parts. Family earns your respect just by being there.

But she wasn't there.

A few days wouldn't make up for 21 years, no matter how hard we wanted them to. With every picture I showed her from my childhood, every video from past Christmas mornings, I could see the longing and regret.  I tried to share old memories and adventures, finding new memories hard to make. This was not going according to plan. Odly enough, all I want to do was to go home to my mama and crawl in her lap like I did when I was scared and confused. As much as I wanted to I just couldn't make my dream come true.

I would love to tell you that all of this is one big happy ending now. That we talk regularly, and visit whenever we can, acting like best friends forever. However our relationship is a constant work in progress, one that I continue to rebel against quite simply because I don't know how to do this. I would challenge all adoptees to seriously consider the consequences of locating your birth family.  As I found out, it's probably not going to be all you imagined.  I am so thankful to have such a loving family there to support me as I work through every step of this process.  Support your adoptive children as they look for their puzzle piece, but I would strongly recommend that you encourage them to wait until they are legally adults and mature enough to accept the responsibilities that will follow. 

Things are not always as they seem, and happily ever afters exist in fantasy. They say the best things in life are worth fighting for.

She wasn't there...but she was thinking of me. She is here now...and not letting me go.