When I say it changed my life, I mean it.
Because it's too much information (read: FEELINGS!) for one post, the next 4 blog posts will chronicle the past year of my life.
Here we go.
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THE GIFT OF ADOPTION
The past year, I've felt as though I'm the main character of a story. Different seasons of my life represent different chapters of this story. Some chapters, I'm very happy to close and move on to what's next. Other chapters, I want to linger in and read again & again. And then there are chapters that I hardly remember because I was too busy thinking what everyone else thought about the chapter, or wishing for the next chapter, or being annoyed by the other characters in the book.
This chapter in my book is such a good one.
I've been pretty open about the fact that I'm adopted. I was born in the southern part of our state, and have lived just an hour's drive north of there my whole life. I was raised as an only child and my parents always did an amazing job of teaching me that being adopted was a gift. I always viewed adoption as a very positive thing. I owe this completely to my parents.
Later, when I met Jake, I believed this even more. I used to think "I could have missed all of this". I was just one decision away from having a completely different life.
I didn't know WHAT that different life would have been, because I knew almost nothing about my birth family. I heard that my birth parents really loved each other, and they had similar interests as my adoptive parents. I also heard that one of my grandfathers was a pilot.
That's it. That's all I knew. And for 33 years, I was okay with that.
I frequently thought about my birth family, and wondered where they lived or what their life was like. If I saw a woman in a store who had hair like mine, I wondered if it was my birth mom. If someone laughed like me across the restaurant, I wondered if we could be related. I wondered if they would have been proud of the person I was becoming. Sometimes I wondered if they were even alive.
On birthdays, I wondered if they celebrated my birthday. Maybe they felt bad on that day. Or, worse than that, maybe they didn't remember my birthday at all. But there was a part of me, all through my life, that wanted so badly to believe they had cake on my birthday.
As a little kid, this seemed very real to me. As an adult, it seemed absurd.
It was like MY book started on the day I was adopted. I knew that my birth parents both had books, but they weren't MY books. I thought maybe some day it would be cool to read their books, but the likelihood of that happening seemed slim.
Part of who I am is someone who doesn't want anyone to feel bad. So, looking back, I believe that I actually wanted to know my birth family, but not if it would lead anyone else to feel bad. Finding them was not really something I talked about to anyone. In fact, I think everyone assumed I DIDN'T want to find them.
In high school I binge-watched a show (before binge-watching was a thing!) called My Adoption Story on TLC. It followed the reunion story of adopted adults with their birth families. I thought it seemed like a fairytale that was great for everyone on the show, but I doubted a reunion would ever happen for me.
And I was okay with that. Sort of.
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A month or so prior to Christmas 2017, my Grandpa asked me if he could get me an AncestryDNA kit. We've talked before about how interesting it might be to know my ethnic background. He joked that maybe I'd even find my birth family.
I laughed, because those are the crazy things that happen to other people. But not to me.
Christmas came and went and my kit lived on the kitchen counter. It's not that I didn't want to do it, I just wasn't in a hurry. I thought I'd get to it, eventually. I guess I wasn't in a rush to find out that I'm just as German as I've always assumed.
There was also a tiny part of me that wondered if I was ready for this. Because what if this leads to something? What if this is the first step into an unknown journey? What if this opens a chapter that I won't want to read?
And then I would get frustrated with myself, because if this IS part of my reunion story, why do I feel so jittery about it? Why am I digging my heels in? Shouldn't I be excited?
Finally in February I spit in the little tube and sent it off to the lab. It was a long wait and after several weeks I forgot about it and went about life.
On the morning of April 9, I received an email from AncestryDNA. Oh yea, that's right! I've been waiting for this email. I had been preparing myself for nothing more than a few ethnic percentages, in an attempt to keep my expectations low.
"Ashley, the AncestryDNA results you've been waiting for are here. You're about to discover your ethnicity estimate, get a unique look at your family's journey through generations, and maybe even connect with long-lost relatives. We're so excited for you!"
At this point, if I'm being honest, there was a tiny spark of hope that maybe, maybe, maybe this was the start of something. I told Jake I got the email and we looked at my ethnicity together.
"Cool! I'm Danish! And Eastern European! And Irish! And German!"
"Yeah, what else? What else does it say?!?"
"It says I have a close relative match. It probably says that to everyone."
"Uhh...are you going to click on it?!"
This is where I'll let you in on a little secret.
At this moment in time, our lives were as close to perfection as they've ever been. Jake and I frequently talk about working together like a well-oiled machine. It takes a lot of cogs & gears to keep our life running. On this day, in this moment, during this chapter, everything was running together so smoothly.
It was almost too good.
This potential discovery brought up a lot of feelings for me that I didn't even know I had.
".....Well?!? Don't you want to see what it says?"
"I'm not sure right now." (Because this seemed better than telling him to let me isolate so I can run ahead in fear.)
I remember thinking a lot about the lyrics to this song.
"Now I am hidden
In the safety of Your love
I trust Your heart and Your intentions
Trust You completely
I'm listening intently
You'll guide me through these many shadows."
I didn't know for sure, but I believed I would have choices to make. This would be the first of many. To click or not to click?
That's not the question. The question is, do I trust Him?
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{Click here for PART 2}
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