Finding My Family ~ Finding Myself

Finding My Family ~ Finding Myself

Most people travel through life in search of something – good grades, a boyfriend or girlfriend, a husband or wife, a new home or car, or a new job. My search was different; I was searching for my identity. Growing up an adoptee is difficult. Adoptees have no idea of their nationality, their medical and genetic history, sometimes they don’t even know where, what day, or what time they were born. Some adoptees search their entire lives without ever knowing these simple things.

There are many issues surrounding adoptees. There are issues of abandonment, issues of feeling unaccepted, issues dealing with not identifying with those around us and many issues with self-esteem. During the lifetime of some adoptees the issue of abandonment gives rise to many problems. Often, in the early teens, some adoptees become aware that they don’t fit in with their adopted family. They don’t look like anyone, they don’t act like anyone, and they have none of the same characteristics of the people around them. This often leads to a detachment from the adopted family and can lead to problems such as drug use and promiscuity to find the acceptance that they feel is lacking in their family unit. The abandonment issue also leads to poor self-esteem as the adoptee questions why they were relinquished for adoption. Was there something wrong with them that their parent(s) didn’t want them? Why are they so unlovable? In the quest for those answers, adoptees often spend countless years and a small fortune trying to find their birth families. For some the answers never come or they find that their relatives are already deceased. For others, such as me, the search ends with answers and reunions.

My adoptive parents told me I was adopted from the moment they brought me home. Although I was too young to understand at the time, I can’t remember a time that I didn’t know I was adopted. As I grew up, I began to realize that there were difference between me and my family. For example, I am left-handed and my family members are right-handed. I was born with blonde hair and grey eyes and my parent had dark hair and dark eyes. My thought processes were different as were my perceptions of the world around me. As I got older I realized that I didn’t look or act like anyone in my family. I felt different; I didn’t fit in. This became more apparent to me throughout my adolescent and adult years. I began to question: “Who am I? Where do I come from? What is my nationality? Have I inherited any genetic medical problems?” And then I started thinking: “What if I searched? Would I find anyone? What would it be like to have the answers to all my questions?”

In the late 1980’s, I decided I would search for my birth family. That began a journey that would last for twelve years and lead me in many directions. The biggest question on my mind was how and where to start the search. I decided that as difficult as I knew it would be, I had to start with my adoptive parents. My adoption was a private adoption and I was fairly certain that they would have certain information. Asking them for that information however was not an easy thing to do. I was aware that they would be hurt and that they would not understand my need to search. Most non-adopted people don’t understand the sometimes overwhelming “need” to search and find our roots.

I approached my mother first as she had always been more open to any questions I had while I was growing up. I asked if she had anything that might contain pertinent information. While she did not want to remember the things I was asking about, she was able to tell me that my birth mother was a nurse and she knew the name of the hospital and city where I was born. She also knew that I was given up for adoption because my birth parents were divorcing. She was not certain if she and my father had any documentation, but she promised she would look and see what she could find. After a few days, she called to tell me that she had looked in their safety deposit box and had found the final adoption decree. On it were the names of both my birth parents – Robert W. Snyder and Blanche A. Snyder. It was unbelievable! I had my parents’ names. I presumed that having that information, it would be a cake walk and I would be in contact with my birth parent in no time flat. Little did I know that it would just be the beginning of a search that would span most of the United States and take nearly twelve years to complete!

Armed with my birth parents names, the city and state of my birth, and the name of the hospital where I was born, I started my search in earnest. I was born in a small town in upstate New York called Gowanda. In my naivety, I imagined that all I would have to do is get the city phone book and look up Robert W. Snyder. There were 32 listings for the last name of Snyder, but non with the same first name. At this point, I decided it would be easier to send letters to the 32 people listed instead of trying to call each one. One problem: I didn’t have a clue how to start! I purchased the book called Birthright: The Guide to Search and Reunion for Adoptees, Birthparents, and Adoptive Parents by Jean Strauss. This book became my Bible. I found a form letter that could be adapted and sent to people with the same last name as my birth family. I quickly got to work and within two days had sent letters to everyone in the phone book with the last name of Snyder. Now the hard part began, waiting for responses. After two weeks, the responses began to trickle into my mailbox. Only a dozen of the people I had contacted even bothered to respond and none of them offered me any hope. The letters were all friendly and each person encouraged me to continue with my search even though they were not my relatives. Shortly after that, I realized that I really didn’t know what I was doing, and my search stalled.

Then, in 1991, I found the Internet! I began searching for sites where I could post my information hoping that my birth parents were also searching for me. I posted to more than 175 sites over a period of nine years. When I wasn’t busy posting, I was busy searching. Each site has a place for adoptees and birth families to post their information. Most of my time was spent searching the multitude of posts from birth families, hoping to find someone who was looking for me.

After so many years of searching with virtually no results, in February of 2003, I received the following email:

“Hello, I say your post on “One List-101 Search Only” today. If you haven’t done so already, you might also want to post your information on the NYAdoption (NYA) List. The list is made up of over 360 triad members, all with direct adoption ties to NY State. They’re a wonderful group of caring individuals who will provide information, insight, support, and laughs to ease the tension to all who are going through the struggles of finding loved ones lost to relinquishment. Over the past 2 years, they’ve helped each other to facilitate more than 220 “finds”, so they’re doing something very right! You can subscribe to the mailing list and post your information by contacting Sylvia Ackerson, list owner, at [e-mail]. Sylvia is a birthmother who recently found her own son. Best wishes to you on your search. Joanne Rush”

My first thought was “At last, someone is finally pointing me in the right direction!” I immediately sent an email to Sylvia requesting admission to the NYAdoption List. Several hours later, I received a response from Sylvia welcoming me to the group and giving me instructions on how to post my information to the List. I “lurked” on the list site for several days, reading posts and getting a feel for what this group of people was all about. Finally, I gathered the courage to post my information to the List. The response from fellow List Members was overwhelming! I had not yet found my birth family, but I found a family within this list of warm, caring people – both adoptees and birth parents that were in the same situation. Each day, I received information, tips and search links from these people. Hour after hour of my free time was spent pouring over search sites and links. Although I was now a part of an internet “family”, I still felt that after almost ten years, I would never find my birth family.

During the first month that I belonged to the List, I finally began to find some real clues. Knowing that my mother was a nurse, I posted that information along with everything else that I knew about my adoption every Tuesday (designated list post day). After a few weeks, someone on the list realized that my mother was a nurse and directed me to a site that gave listings of all registered medical personnel. I typed in the URL and found myself in the New York State listing of Medical Professionals. After typing in my birth mothers name and clicking the search icon, I was rewarded with a listing for Blanche Harvey Chambers who was a nurse in New York during the time I was born. One problem, the name didn’t match…Chambers, not Snyder. I was not certain I had the correct person. The license stated that she had moved to Arkansas. I was informed by members of the List that a doctor’s or nurses’ license number stays with them no matter where they move. Encouraged by that fact, I contacted the Arkansas State Board of Nursing. Dead end! They would not give out any information. Sadly, I posted to the List that I was not able to retrieve any information from Arkansas and that I felt I was at a dead end.

On March 31, 2000, just a month after joining the List, I received the following email from Sylvia containing the subject line IMPORTANT – This is what you need!!! Here’s what the email said:

“Carol, Here you go…

Owner Name: Chambers, Blanche Harvey Height: 5’ 05”
Address: 10807 East Crest Lane Weight: 145
Dallas, Tx 75217 Race: White
Mailing Addr: 10807 East Crest Lane Eyes: Grey
Dallas, TX 75217-3543 [phone] Gender: F
Last Trans: Renewal Hair: blonde/brown
Last Tran date: 11/06/1996 Birth Date: 11/17/1933
Love, Syl”

My initial reaction was disbelief! I had searched for ten years with little results and now, here in front of me was the name, address and phone number of the woman I believed to be my birth mother. I looked at her vital statistics and was shocked. She is 5’4” tall and I am 5’5” tall. We both have the same color eyes and hair. In my heart, I knew this was her! I thought; “How do I make contact with her?” I looked to the List for my answers. Again, the response was overwhelming. I got emails of congratulations, encouragement and places to look for ways to make contact.

After about six weeks of research and trying to overcome the fear of being rejected yet again, I decided that I would make first contact by phone. I didn’t feel that I could be patient enough to write a letter and wait for her to get it, read it, digest it and then reply…if she replied at all. In the book The Locators by Tony Dunn, I found the following five tips for making first contact by phone: 1.) have a detailed list of questions on hand; 2.) never mention the word adoption; 3.) don’t ramble – have a prepared script; 4.) phrase questions in an open-ended manner; and 5.) listen carefully to what is said and how it is said.

Following these tips, I formulated a script with several questions that only my birth mother could answer. On April 4, 2000, I nervously picked up the phone and dialed her number. A man answered the phone and I asked for “Blanche”…he yelled “Anne, phone!” When I heard her voice for the first time I was struck by how alike we sounded. I began to follow the script that I had put together asking her open-ended questions such as; “Does the date January 20, 1959 mean anything to you?” and “Does Tri-County Hospital in Gowanda, New York sound familiar to you?” She was very evasive in her answers. She did not confirm that she knew anything about what I was asking, yet she never denied it either. After a few frustrating minutes, I became discouraged and apologized for bothering her and hung-up. I was certain that this was my birth mother, yet she would not acknowledge that I was her child. Now I was more confused, and hurt, than ever.

I again turned to the support of the List members to help me sort out my feelings and perhaps give me some insight into her responses. While no one other than my mother could ever really explain to me why she didn’t acknowledge me right away, the List provided me with many theories and also suggested ways to follow-up with her. I decided to write a letter to her. In this letter I again outlined the information I had and asked if she was related to me. I also apologized for contacting her if she was not who I was looking for and let her know that there were no hard feeling on my part if she was who I was looking for. It took nearly two weeks for her to respond to me. I received a very large brown envelope in the mail with a very long letter and many photographs. My mother explained that she had never wanted to be found and that she had assumed there was no way for her to be found. She and my father were separated when I was born. I was born by elective c-section and she had never seen me. At the time I was born, she was a single mother raising a 3 year old daughter (whoa, I have a sister!) on a nurses salary and did not feel she was able to raise another child. I was also a product of a one night stand that she and my dad had and she was ambivalent about being pregnant as they were going through the divorce. She had not told my father about being pregnant as she did not want to reconcile with him. There were many pictures of her and my sister and my niece along with my grandmother and my uncles. There was also medical information and the family tree that my grandmother Ruby had put together before her death. I waited a week or so before I responded to her thanking her for all the information and again apologizing for intruding upon her life. We began a very tentative relationship via letters. Because of her lack of enthusiasm in my contacting her, I was deterred by my fear of rejection to contact my birth father. In fact, I had nearly decided that I wasn’t going to bother with finding him. My significant other (at the time) kept bugging me about when I was going to contact my father. After several months of his constant questions, I finally got the courage to look for my dad.

With information I had gained from both the List and from my mother, I tracked down my fathers address and phone number in Aurora, Missouri. With shaky hands, I dialed the number and made the call that would change my life forever! A male voice answered the phone and I asked for Robert Snyder. “This is Robert” he responded. I began to ask him the questions that I had asked my mother during our first call and after the third or fourth question, he realized who I was. His response was “Oh my gosh, am I talking to my youngest daughter?” I replied that yes, I was his youngest daughter and began to tell him about myself and where I lived in Georgia. He asked me some questions which I answered and it became quite apparent that he was overjoyed at having been found, quite unlike the reaction from my mother. His next question to me was “Would you like to have some company?” I asked when and his response was “Tomorrow!” My head began to spin – after 42 years, I was going to meet my father! It turns out that it was his and my step-mother’s 25th wedding anniversary and they were driving to Florida with their camper and would be driving through Georgia on their way. Arrangements were made for them to stop in Georgia and spend a few days so my father and I could get to know one another.

The next morning, the phone rang. I gave my dad directions to meet me at a local K-Mart as finding my house can be difficult. Within 20 minutes, I was caught up in the biggest bear hug I had ever received! We spent the entire day together and talked for hours on end. I had pictures of myself growing up and he took delight in looking through the album and asking questions. He and his wife Laura finally left around 11:00 p.m. and I tried to get some sleep. I was so hyped up from the excitement of the day that I could not sleep! The next day, we met again and talked more about what had happened between my mom and him. It turned out that he was unaware of my existence until he received the adoption papers for my relinquishment. He was in the Air Force at the time and due to the restrictions of military personnel being single parents, he was unable to gain custody of me. Only after he had exhausted every possible means of getting custody and was told that he would be court-martialed if he continued to pursue the matter did he sign the relinquishment papers. We talked about his life and my life and my children, his grandchildren, and my grandchildren, his great-grandchildren. The more time we spent together, the more apparent it became that we were indeed father and daughter.

Genetics is a wondrous thing. This man had never seen me, had not had any influence in raising me yet we had the same mannerisms, the same speech patterns, the same gestures, and many other traits were the same. By the end of the second day, his wife Laura and my significant other were both laughing at the two of us and shaking their heads marveling at how alike we are. It was difficult the next morning saying goodbye when it was time for them to be on their way to Florida. My dad suggested that we plan a get-together over the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday and I readily agreed.

In the meantime, my sister and I had begun a very tentative email relationship. She was very biased against my dad because of things that my mom had said about him over the years and the fact that he had not seen her since she was 16 years old. I kept working on her about him, very slowly and little by little, her curiosity got the better of her and she finally contacted him. Their relationship in the beginning was very tentative at best…she was still fairly bitter towards him. However she did consent to attend the Thanksgiving holiday affair with her daughter in tow.

Two months after meeting my father, I drove 12 hours to his home in Missouri. When I arrived, I met my sister Debbie, my niece Heather, my step-brother Brian and my 91 year old grandmother Bessie. For five days, we talked and laughed and got to know each other. I bonded with my birth family over those five days. I felt a connection and an acceptance that I had never felt in my entire life. I look like my father and my niece looks like me. There are similarities and coincidences that are astonishing!

At this writing, I have yet to meet my birth mother. She and I correspond by mail and by phone calls and we have become closer although she still has some reservations about meeting face-to-face. I have decided that on her 75th birthday, I’m showing up at her door with a bow around my neck. Until then, I am enjoying a happy relationship with my father, sister and niece – my grandmother has unfortunately passed away, but I was able to get to know her very well. I know who I look like, I know what nationalities I am, I know whose personality traits I’ve inherited and most importantly, I know that there are no deadly medical problems that run in my family.

At the beginning stages of my reunions with my birth family, my adoptive parents were fearful. We had not had a particularly good relationship for most of my life and they feared they would lose me completely. In the years since I have been reunited with my birth family, all the relationships that I have with both my birth family and my adoptive parents have deepened. My adoptive parents have been able to see that I am not going to disappear from their lives. In fact on a subsequent visit to Georgia, my birth father and his wife and I sat down to dinner with my adoptive parents. It was quite a night! The best part in all of this is that I now have the answers to all my questions and my life has more meaning than ever! I finally feel complete.