It was only when I obtained my "non-identifying information," which contained (among other more relevant information) my birth weight and size, that I discovered some of the physical and emotional deprivation this separation from my family and my history had caused. I had not known the existence of a basic physical need for answers residing silently and unknown within me my entire life, until that need was partially met. I wept with joy at the minuscule bit of data I had obtained, and dreamed that night of meeting a baby girl, hugging and being hugged by her with a strength I had never before experienced. I felt joyful, and knew we would be together forever. I woke from that dream, feeling spiritually and emotionally renewed, filled with happiness. I could feel that baby girl's bear hug for days. Strangely, I also felt physically renewed, more connected with myself and the world, actually taller, with a different spatial relationship to the objects around me. Happiness I could understand, but I worried about these feelings of an altered physical self, and wrote one searcher about them. She wrote back to me, "Yes, many adoptees describe the feelings you are having; they are entirely normal. You've discovered that you existed before you were adopted."

I learned from that profound emotional and physical experience that I had been wrong in my own beliefs. I had considered my family history only as something I wanted, but was not really entitled to have. Now I know that the separation from my family of origin and the resulting deficiency of knowledge about my family and myself has had extraordinary consequences, some of which I cannot define. I know this caused genuine fractures within my self that I can identify only as I am healed. The prospect of such profound healing is truly miraculous.

I find it difficult to believe that I have been searching for two years. I know so much more about my birth family and about myself now, and although my birthfather died before I began my search, I have found a living paternal uncle who is a delight. I am still in search of my mother and, possibly, siblings.

Somewhere there is a woman who knew me as an infant and as a small child. She knew me in a way that no one has since.

Every day of my search is an intense experience. It is life lived with a mission to reclaim my family, my history, my self.