This has been one heck of a week for adoption reunions. As you many of you know, I help folks search for their loved ones lost through adoption. There are days, weeks, and even months that go by that matches take place or a search is completed.

Today, I received an email from an adoptee registered with PARR and she said that her adoptive mother had died and in the important papers she found her birth parents names. Over a period of time, she had tracked them down and knew when her birth mother married, and divorced. I called the adoptee and suggested that she obtain a copy of the marriage license. She did and called me with the information. She faxed me a copy and by three o’clock in the afternoon she had the contact information for her birth mother whom lives in the same town as the adoptee.

I wrote earlier in the week about the reunion match on the PARR website. I was so very touched by that match. When the adoptee wrote to me he thanked me for helping this world’s most unselfish woman. I have thought about that statement for a couple of days now.

Throughout the past 13 years that my search was completed I Have imagined my birth mother pregnant, and always at the age she was when she gave birth. I am sure she was pretty and always was, a 29 year old in my mind, frozen as this beautiful, unselfish woman who gave me life and opportunity and so, so, much love – the woman who gave me away.

I have learned my birth mothers history and family history. I have learned what foods my birth mother hated (peas – just like me) and loved.(pastries – just like me). I learned she was a night owl but I don’t know if she thought about me or wondered who I became. I was 22 when she died and I wonder if in her mind if I was 22 or still a newborn girl.

Although there are many unanswered questions, a mystery, my family is clear. I know the wrinkle of my dad’s smile and my mom’s step, The love is just there, unconditionally.

Recently, I shared with a neighbor that I am adopted and the reaction was a question…you’re adopted? I guess that adoption in some peoples eyes mean family secrets and emotional trauma. I kind of expected this person to say that “but, Karen, you are so normal!

I explained my volunteer work in the adoption community as well as our blog here and how adoption has effected my life. Although my parents told me that they told me when I was about 5 that I was adoption I can not remember being told. My mom said that a cousin who is younger than me told me and I came home from my Grandma’s asking if it was true. The first recollection of knowing that I was adopted was at the age of 11 when I heard my aunt and a friend of the family talking.

The thing with my birth mother is that I feel as if I do know here. I know her in my mind and I love her with a different love reserved only for her. I may put her on a pedestal at time and sometimes I think I am foolish for that. Since we never were able to reunite I have developed a fantasy/reality blend of my own and the purpose she serves in my life.

There was a period of time that because of adoption I did not feel whole. Now, the opposite is true for me. I feel as if adoption has been my destined fate.

I don’t know what the journey would have been like if my birth mother was alive when I found her. I don’t know if my life would have changed if I found my birth mother alive. I don’t know if my life would have changed if I knew my birth mother had blocked me from her mind or not.

What I do know is that I was raised by people who never avoided answering my questions, who taught me to have pride, and strong morals and beliefs. I love to write, and reading a book snuggled up under a warm blanket. I can’t stand peas and I strongly dislike the color red. I have become a 5 foot 4 inch woman with brown eyes, and brown hair woman not just from genetics but also from the years that I have experienced.