Dear Mr. Postal Worker

Everyday I get asked the same three questions. How are your kids? How's your dog? How's your search going for you biological family? Since nobody really cares how someone's kids are and people really only want to see pictures of your dog, I'll answer the last question by sharing with you a letter I wrote to my postman. (I have a feeling many of you would rather see pictures of my dog, sorry, I promise to share some next time.)

Dear Mr. Postman, AKA Mr. Postal Worker, AKA Jack,

I'm writing you this letter for a few different reasons. First I want to express my thanks for all your hard work. You really do work through all sorts of bad weather conditions, faithfully delivering my precious snail paper mail everyday, except Sunday and federal holidays, of which there are many. Not that you don't deserve all these days off, you do.

I also want you to know I hope that the proposed cuts in jobs and pay for postal workers doesn't happen. I really don't think you make too much money and I wish I could have Sundays and any holiday off too.

But the main reason I'm writing you is because I want you to know that I am expecting a very important letter. This letter has the potential to change my life.

On December 2nd I mailed a petition to the court in Massachusetts where my final adoption took place requesting the opening of my sealed adoption record. If granted, it should give me access to my original birth certificate. There are so many reasons, reasons I've written about in my blog, I need/want my original birth certificate and feel it should be my human right to have it. It's up to a judge now whether I will be granted this request and expect the decision to be mailed to me when it's reached.

Needless to say, December is not a great time to expect mail. With all the holidays and such. There are also a lot of holidays in January and February too. I did call the court to make sure they received the petition and they did, but apparently courts also get federal holidays off.

So I check my mail box everyday, including Sundays and holidays (because mail might have stuck to the top of the inside of my mailbox on Saturday) for the reply from the judge.

Well, thanks again for all of your hard work. Email is faster, but at least you don't deliver any daemons to me. However, if you could also not leave me Christian mail I would appreciated it. I know they are just worried about my soul, but since I am Jewish, there's really no worries.

Sincerely,
Heidi (AKA the lady with the cute dog who would never bite you)

Addendum: I might bite the postman but my sweet dog never would...see comments!

43 Year Old Vermont Woman Arrested for Attempted Breaking and Entering into the NYS Vital Records Office...

Police Beat_

Albany County NY_

Heidi L., a 43 year old Vermont woman was arrested Monday for attempted breaking and entering into the New York State Vital Records Office, located at 800 North Pearl Street, Menands, NY.

The woman was allegedly trying to obtain a copy of her own original birth certificate.

Her efforts were thwarted by a passerby, who becoming mildly alarmed, shouted "Damn, woman, what's wrong with you? You'll never bust into that building with just a JC Penney Platinum credit card.!"

To which, according to the eyewitness, the woman started crying and mumbling something about, not having an "original birth certificate" and not knowing who she is!

The witness, fearing this woman might be insane, called the police and reported what was happening. He then handed the woman a paper bag containing a half drunk bottle of Mad Dog 20/20, stating "you look like you could use a drink." then fled the scene before police arrive.

Later, a photo sent anonymously was tagged to the local police departments Facebook page.


Heidi L. was arraigned in Menands Village Court and released after paying a $30 fine, coincidentally the same amount it would cost for her to get a copy of her birth certificate, if it was in fact available to her.

******************************************************
For those of you that don't know me, I'M KIDDING! For those of you that do know me, you know I've seriously contemplated this course of action!
******************************************************
Click on the label "adoption" below to read more about my search for my birth family.
******************************************************
I recently joined the online support group NY Adoptees. If you were born/adopted in NY or know someone who is adopted, please join.

Are You My Mama?

I called the PI, twice. Finally she got back to me via email. She claims that my case is still open and they are still searching for my biological family. The problem they are having is that my information states that I was born in one state, New York, and was adopted in another, Massachusetts.

Neither state is willing to give me even my non-identifying information. Which they both would give, if I had been born and adopted in one of those states. But not both!

I already knew this. I was denied the ability to even register as an adoptee in these states which means any bio family would be denied also. But I've already written about this issue in past posts.

Still frustrated and annoyed.

So tonight I'm going to start searching online for a new PI. Then tomorrow I'm going to call some and see if I can't find any with the ability or experience, to break through these barriers.

The only good thing about the PI I have now, is that I haven't had to pay anything. I have a set fee contracted to pay only when they find someone living in my bio family. Name, address, phone number.

Again, any suggestions?

Who Do You Think I Am?

I've never watched the show Who Do You Think You Are. I am unable to not get upset, even during commercials for those types of TV shows. It's not like they are doing anything extraordinary. The actors know who they are, they know their names and their parents names, things every human being has a right to know.

I just want to know my name.

I try not to be bitter or angry about famous people getting free -and of course themselves being paid-help finding their ancestry. That's just life, and sometimes life isn't fair.

Yes, my search for my biological family is still the one thing that makes me feel sorry for myself. It's the one thing that can cause me to cry spontaneously.

I don't want people to feel sorry for me, I just want help. Because of the unusual details of my adoption, I don't even know how to continue with my search. The usual paths don't seem to apply to me.

But I've decided to try and take a more active part in my search. So for my next blog posts, I'm going to write about at least one thing I've done to search.

Any suggestions will be appreciated.
*************************************
Today I called the PI I hired 2 years ago. In the beginning, I would email her every week, then every month, then a year went by, nothing. I emailed her about six months ago and she did say not to give up, that my case was taking longer than usual..

So now it's been over 2 years and I decided to call instead of email. I reached the founder of the PI agency, told her my name and asked if she was still working on my case. She told me that she was not in the office, but would get back to me tonight after 4. Sure.

I'm going to try and not cry.

I'll update as soon as she calls me back.
************************************
If you want to find out more about my adoption search story, click on the label 'Adoption' below.

Such a Nice Italian Family

"Such a nice Italian family!" The Sensei said to me and Ant-One, my 7yo son, at Karate class.

"Um" cough, flush "Thanks" I replied.

I explained to the Sensei that, while Ant-One is part Italian, I don't know what I am. She shook her head and said "Oh, I can tell."

Being that my son has dark brown hair and eyes and another nick-name, besides Ant-One, that sounds very Italian, and he is at least 1/8 Italian, I can understand why she would assume that. However, I've never been told I look Italian, only Puerto Rican (when I was little) and American (heh heh) now.

I would love find out I was really Italian, or Puerto Rican or any other nationality, rather than the alien from another planet, I think I am.

Because I obsess about these superficial external traits in myself and my family, I'll share with you. I also obsess about personality traits too, but don't want you to have to read a book right now.

This is a photo of my mother in law Sylvia, when she graduated from High School. She is half Italian and half English. If you shorten the hair and slightly narrow the bridge of the nose, that is my son. Every feature, the strong chin, round dark brown eyes (Hus's eyes are the same shape but dark Hazel/Brown color) and well, those lips (Hus has those too!) it's uncanny.


My 12yo daughter Snemma has the same shape eyes, except hers are olive green. Snemma wishes she had those lips, but her lips are even more fascinating to me because they are unlike mine or any of Hus's family's lips. Ya, at Christmas, I stare at his family members lips/eyes, don't worry, they just think I'm paying attention to what they're saying, which is usually something about someone I never heard of.

All put together, Snemma looks very much like me, but her individual parts are different. It's still nice to see me in her, whether she likes it or not!

Snemma's lips are so pretty, shaped like a perfect heart in the middle from her cupids bow to her lower lip and the way they thin out toward the corners. I found this pic of the actress Clara Bow from the 1920's and seriously, Snemma has these lips. Maybe Clara is a long long very lost distant great grandma? Just kidding.


I also wonder who Snemma got her wonderful butt from. I'll have to keep an eye out at Christmas.

Kiss Me, I Might Be Irish

Well, it's now been over a year since I hired the private investigator's to find my biological family and still nothing. I emailed the PI every few months over the last year and each time she emailed me back not to give up. That they had leads but nothing concrete, yet. I emailed them last week and asked if it was time for me to give up and I haven't gotten a response back yet.

I don't think about it everyday but I know it's always lurking somewhere in my subconscious mind. I felt it creep to the surface yesterday when I was at the ear doctors office filling out forms, and of course the section was there which asked for my family history. For a second I thought perhaps I could just tell them Hus's history, I mean, he is my closest family. I paused when I came to that part, and tried to to ignore the heaviness that crept into my chest. It's not like I would cry at the doctors office, but I could have. Obviously that means it still bothers me.

Recently I've been working with my doctor to find reasons why I've been so tired and unmotivated for the last year or so. Bad work and sleep schedule? Seasonal Affective Depressive Disorder? Peri menopause? Depression? She also brought up my adoption search and that it's around the time I hired them that my mood and energy started to decline. She thinks that because hiring them was a last resort and having them fail to find any answers, I've lost hope.

I've always had hope. But is it realistic, should I just accept that I won't ever know? If I had the energy, I would take myself to see a shrink, I still might. Maybe then I could just get on with my life. There really aren't that many options left for me. I will try writing letters to TV shows, but long shot's there I'm sure. I did apply to The Locator and never heard anything.

Anyways, Irish or not, here are this years Leprechaun trap's. T, my 6yo and I each made one. E, my 11yo was too old or too cool. Of course tonight when we set them out, she asked if she was still going to get something from the leprechaun, ya know, candy. HA! Not too cool for candy I guess.

T's Trap, complete with spun gold to entice the little Leprechauns.

My trap, sure to attract female Leprechauns with the idea of getting a spun gold make-over.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Saturday Sounds 10 or This Song is Dedicated to YOU!

I want to thank all of you for the wonderful comments and emails I received regarding my last post. I was overwhelmed by your kindness and willingness to share your personal stories about adoption with me. I was brought to tears by most of them.
Okay, let's cheer the hell up! Here is a new song by Michael Franti and Spearhead, Say Hey (I Love You)
This is for you!


Cool video, huh?

Still Looking For My Biological Parents

It's now been six months since I hired a Private Investigator to find my biological parents and still no news.

Some days I spend too much time obsessing about my current search, my past, my complaints about how things went regarding my adoption.

One thing that comes to mind is the first story(lie) I was told about my biological mother. I only say "mother" because I was never told any story about my bio father and it wasn't until I was older that I started wondering about him.

The first fictional story my parents told me about my bio mother was not an unusual one. Many adoptee's have been told the same thing.

"Your mother died."

According to my adoptive mother, this is what "the lawyer said to tell" me. I know when people tell me to do stupid things like jump off a bridge, I do it. To say there was no common sense or any thought for how this might make me feel, is and understatement.

Imagine as a young child to be told that your mother is dead but at the same time not given any encouragement to grieve over this horrible loss, instead being told how "lucky" you were to be chosen for adoption out of "all the other babies in the nursery".

How sad is that? My mother died but no one seems to think I should be upset about it. Nobody talks about it.

When I was little, before my adoptive mother changed the story several more times, I was sad about the death of my bio mother. I spent many nights crying myself to sleep, romanticising about what she might have been like. It was very confusing to say the least. I was too young to vocalize many of the thoughts, feelings and questions I was having, but they must have affected me deep inside even then.

Now, I can look back and think of some of the questions my subconscious mind must have pondered...
If my mother died...
Since I was adopted at birth (supposedly) did she die because of me?
Where is my father?
Where is my other family?
Do I have any sisters or brothers?

I still wonder every day about the answers to these questions.

Okay, not looking for sympathy with these posts; I just want people to gain some understanding about how closed adoption affects people.

Love/Sex Child Couple # 1

When I was younger, and even now, like the other night when the fam and I came up with this couple, I used to fantasise about who my parents might be. Sometimes I would imagine having famous parents, other times I was sure my schizophrenic aunt was my mother.

Couple # 1

Sally Field and Gene Wilder

+

= Me


Pretty brown eyes, nice smile, short stature(exactly the same height as me) + curly hair, awesome sense of humor = ME!

Just in case you are new here, I am kidding.

I'm an Alien

I'm an alien. Not like E.T. or Mork, more like Superman, only Superwoman, with a temper like my favorite Alien, Sigourney Weaver's Alien.

It's been 5 months since I hired the private investigator to find my biological family and still nothing. The last email I received was to tell me not to worry, to give it 6-9 months. So I guess I'll really start to worry next month.

So for now I will continue my usual obsessing about who I am and where I might have come from.

Does anyone remember any meteor showers occurring in 1968? UFO sightings?

If I am really an alien, where are my superpowers?



I'm a cute alien though.

Do I Look Familiar? Pt. 6

I Don't Like The Locator

For those of you who are new here, my posts titled "Do I Look Familiar?" are about my search for my biological family.

I don't personally know Troy Dunn, the PI who hosts the Locator show, but I don't like him. When I saw the show advertised for the first time, I was excited. Yay, a show about finding lost people, including lost biological families. Since I have been searching for mine, I thought perhaps I could get some advice on ways to proceed with my search. My Hus and kids even encouraged me to apply to be on the show. With much hesitation, I did apply to the show. Hus and kids love the show. At first I found it too depressing, because of the lack of progress in my own search, to watch more than partial episodes. But then, after a while, I figured out what a joke the show is.The Locater doesn't ever locate anyone that you or I couldn't find with Internet access or a phone book. Of course HE needs his jet plane to FLY him to these people. Pahleeze! He always starts his searches out already knowing a key piece of information. Like a NAME! If I knew the names of my bio family, I could have, with a lot of time and energy, found them myself. Even if my bio mothers name is Mary Smith, I could conceivably find her. Of course I haven't heard anything back from the show. I'm sure my case would be too hard for them. I mean the viewers wouldn't want to watch a show about a challenging case. Right? Jerks.

As for the real private investigator I hired back in February, I haven't heard anything. I at least have faith that they are looking, since they don't get paid unless they find someone.

Well that's all for today's bitching session.

Do I Look Familiar? Pt.5 & Contest

After doing more searching on my own for my biological family, I made the decision to hire a private investigations agency to search for me. They won't charge until they find my bio mother or her next living relative. I sent out my info and they emailed me on Thursday that they received it, and they were going to start searching "immediately".

This leads me to my contest. Take a good look at these photos of me I from my past...

Strange Looking Balloon

The Real Me

Plaid Skort

Braces and Farrah Fawcett Do


Favorite Waist

Khaki Skort, Bad Bangs

After you are done looking, it's time to play GUESS MY NATIONALITY!

In case you can't tell from the pictures, I am 5'1 and 3/4'' short with brown eyes and medium brown hair. My hair is naturally curly.

The winner will receive this beautiful scrapbook kit which includes over 850 pieces and the scrapbook filled with pictures of me! Just kiddin. It's brand new, never been opened. For those of you who don't scrapbook, I am including an assortment of Vermont treats such as Pure Vermont Maple Syrup and candy and other surprises! Feel free to re-gift, I'll never know.

So go ahead and guess. Although, I am probably a combination of nationalities, please guess only one per person. I'll go by the one that I am most of. If more than one person is correct than I will put all the winners in a hat and my kids will pick out one winner.

Lastly, if the Agency is not able to find my bio family by March 31st, I will just pick a winner randomly. I'll put a reminder to enter this contest in each post until that date. Have fun!

Miscellaneous Manure Pt. 6

I ended up spending a lot of time on my adoption on Monday and of course getting no where. I left messages for the person who I know was adopted through the same lawyer as me, but he hasn't called back yet. Maybe I don't have the right number or he doesn't remember me, it has been over 20 years since we've seen each other. Or maybe he thinks I'm crazy. I was careful not to use the "A" word (adoption) in messages. Even though I know this person knows they were adopted. Touchy subject nonetheless. I also sent my info to a private investigator for a free quote, but have not heard from them either. And I registered at a few more adoption registry sites.

Now I have another reason I put this search off. It take soooo much freaken time!

School was cancelled today because of the snow. We all stayed inside, nice and warm and did lazy but fun stuff together. I made a delicious brunch, sorry if pic makes you hungry. Those are chocolate chip pancakes in case you were drooling, I mean wondering. We also played Wii, made home-made Valentine cards and peanut butter chocolate chip cookies.


Speaking of cookies, as of last Wednesday, I have lost 14.8 pounds on Weight Watchers. I think I have lost more but didn't go weigh in today because of the weather.

Hus has a black eye. He hit himself in the head with a metal pipe at work. Okay, it's not that funny! He was stripping wire and somehow pulled and the pipe out and it came out faster than expected and hit him just above and to the right of his right eye. Poor Hus. Then the very same day, he lost his wallet. He was at Stewarts buying milk, left and went to get gas and realized his wallet was missing! He went back to Stewarts and of course it was gone. When he got home, I called and cancelled his Visa and JCPenney card. Luckily there was only about $20 cash in it. About 2 hours later that night, the police called and said someone had dropped off his wallet claiming they had found it in the parking lot of Stewarts, minus the cash. Poor Hus.

Thanks for all of your kind comments and emails regarding my last post. I'll update if and when I get more news.

Do I Look Familiar? Pt. 4

I had a few emotionally bad days last week. For those of you who don't know the story of my adoption, click on the label at the bottom of this post and you'll find my previous adoption posts.I finally figured out why it is taking me so long to get anywhere with this search for my biological family. Every time I take a step, for example call someone or write someone, I hit a brick wall. When this happens to me, instead of motivating me to take another step, it just makes me upset and I give up for a while.
About 6 months ago I contacted a lawyer to find out if I had any chance of winning a petition to the court to open my files. First I couldn't find a lawyer that had ever petitioned the court to open sealed birth records, then it took a while to find one that might help me with my case. We have emailed back and forth a few times. He didn't think I had a case without a medical reason and thought perhaps a private investigator would be more helpful. I know someone who had done this and was successful at finding her birth parents. It was probably over 10 years ago and cost $5000. Her adoption was straight forward-through an agency- type adoption. Mine is a more complicated-black or gray market-type adoption. So I figure it would cost even more.
The latest thing I have done, is to see a skin doctor because I think I might have a hereditary skin condition. The doc said he wasn't' convinced that I did have this, but is willing to write a letter to the court stating that it would be beneficial to know my family history and whether any close relatives have skin cancer.I emailed this news to the lawyer. He emailed me back that he is willing to try petitioning the court, however, isn't sure it will work and he anticipates appeals. He also wants a $5000 retainer. If he told me that this would definitely work, I would have already mailed him the check. Instead, I read that it might not, and then I started to cry. I absolutely hate crying! It's not that I don't find crying therapeutic at times, I do. It's just that lately once the waterworks start, they don't want to stop, my eyes burn and swell and for days after I still feel like my brain is foggy and my eyes are puffy.This is why I give up so easily. I need time to recover and become strong enough to try again. This is also why at times I just feel like giving up. Is it worth the emotional turmoil? Sometimes, well most times, I am angry too because it is just so unfair that I have to go through all this, just to know my history. NOT FAIR!!!!( Sorry, feeling a little sorry for myself?)
Today my goals are to make more phone calls and try not to cry at the first disappointment.I am going to call the following:
1.Another adoptee who was adopted from the same lawyer, not sure if I have the correct phone number.
2.An adoption support group in the area where I was possibly born.
3.The Newspaper from where I was possibly born to see about putting an ad in it. I'm sure I'll get a lot of crackpots answering so I will get a p.o. box and new email.
4.The local police department from where I was possibly born to find out about how long they keep records of missing or abandoned babies. 40 years?
5.Local library to find out where I can view archives of newspapers.
What I fear will happen is, I will call number one, get nowhere, start crying and give up for the day, week or month. This time however, I have taking a half of a Xanax and will take more as needed!
Wish me luck. I'll be by to visit everyone this evening.

Manischewitz and Medication

Back on April 2ND I was tagged for a meme by Jess Riley, a talented, funny and insightful writer of Rileys Ramblings and author of her soon to be released debut novel Driving Sideways. I recommend stopping by and visiting her blog, you will surely enjoy it. I can't wait to read her novel, which will be released May 20Th.

For this meme there are the usual rules, which I am not going to follow. I also don't ever forward chain emails, even though I kinda do fear bad luck! I am just rebellious like that. I live life on the edge.

The meme states to share 6 unimportant things about myself. Instead of random unimportant things, I am going to list 6 unimportant things I did while visiting my aunts house this past weekend for Passover.

1) I found out I was wearing the wrong size bra. I hear about such things happening to other women, but never thought it could happen to me. My aunt J, whose house I was staying at during the holiday, owns a fancy lingerie shop. One of the things they specialize in is finding a woman's proper bra size and then selling them a really really expensive bra. There was good news and bad news for me.The bad news was that my back is bigger than I thought, I guess I am still in denial about my weight. The good news was that I needed a bigger cup size! I was wearing a B but I fit much better into a C! WoO WoO! (.)(.) changed to ( . )( . )! Then my aunt sold me the really expensive bra for cost, phew.

2) I told my mom that the outfit she wore made me want to break out in a song from The Sound of Music. It was a 2 piece casual set with a really loud pattern on it. Not exactly like the pattern on the curtains Julie Andrews used to make the kids play clothes, but curtain-like enough. Perhaps a cross between toile, paisley and faux brocade? A jacket or pants alone or maybe a purse made with that design would have been more appropriate and less straining on the eyes.

3)I shopped as much as possible. Where I live in Vermont I have to drive at least a half hour to go clothes shopping. My aunts house is a mile or less from every store imaginable. I spent time at Target first, but didn't find much, which is unusual. I spent more time a Kohl's where I found lots. Everything was buy one get one free. You didn't even have to buy the same thing, it just had to be 2 things made by the same brand. I only regret not having enough time to shop at Loehmanns.

4)I snuck contraband into my aunts house. Kosher for Passover houses are cleaned before the holiday to remove any bread or other yeast made foods. I have a habit of waking up in the early morning hours starving. The only thing I have found that fills my stomach, allowing me to fall back asleep, is a Fig Newton. So I snuck them in via my suitcase, sorry aunt J!

5)I drank kosher wine. I always bring kosher for passover wine with me so I don't have to wait to be offered a drink, heh heh. My family, well most of them, are not big drinkers. I, on the other hand must have a drink before and Seder begins. The Seder is the special meal, which includes reading from a special book, singing Hebrew songs, drinking Manischewitz wine and eating special Passover foods. Did I mention singing?

6) Last, and perhaps not such an unimportant thing, more of an important thing about my Passover time, is the fact that I needed to medicate myself with Xanax every morning. Each morning after I drank my coffee and ate breakfast, I medicated myself with Xanax. The reason, which is old news around here, is my mother. I cannot be around her without medication. If I don't take something, she will suck the energy and life and any amount of happiness I might be feeling at the time, right out of me. I skipped Passover last year because I hadn't yet discovered the wonder drug Xanax. I can be around my mother and not feel like I want to strangle her or at the very least yell at her and tell her how crazy she is. The sad part about Xanax is that the effects are not lasting and it has no effect on my memory. Tuesday night, after a day driving home and not taking any med, was horrible. I spent the night obsessing about all the mean, wrong things my mother said or did during the weekend, which I didn't react to at the time. Reacting to her behaviors, trying to talk about my feelings or perceptions is useless and has always led to more heartache and pain for me. So the Xanax helps me not expend useless amounts of my energy and sanity on trying to fix things with her. Believe me I have tried time after time over the years and I get nothing but more pain. I am done with that. Obviously she doesn't give a crap about me and I do my best to accept this. If it wasn't for my children, who don't know yet how crazy grandma is, I probably wouldn't speak to her at all. But if at any time she becomes a negative influence on them, I will break all ties. They don't need to suffer from her bullshit games like I did. Okay, enough info for a separate post! Bored now.

My Jewishness-ness

I was going to post some cute pictures on my blog today and had already started to write, but Blogger doesn't seem to want to let me put pictures up. Hopefully, this problem will be resolved soon.

I decided to write a little more related to my last post. The thing is, I wrote that I had given up on being Jewish period and I realized the day before yesterday, that this is not entirely true.
That evening, I was home cooking dinner for the fam, I was making home made Chicken and Matzo Ball soup, and it suddenly dawned on me. I was making home made Chicken and Matzo Ball soup! Well, if that's not Jewish....

My point is that, I love my home made Chicken soup, because it is damn good! Then I realized I make many really tasty Jewish foods, Noodle Kugel, Mock Potato Knishes, Potato Latkes (pancakes), Fried Matzo and more. I am not giving these Delicious foods up. These recipes are MINE, Jewish or not, I taught them to myself, LOOSELY basing them on the recipes of my grandmother, being that I rarely watched her cook, and recipes I found on-line or in cookbooks.

I also plan on lighting the Menorah candles during Hanukkah, but I also plan on decorating for Christmas. I love Christmas time, and even growing up Jewish I always felt it was a magical time, a time for giving and spending time with family. By family, I mean my husband and kids. Spending time with anyone else in my family is definitely not magical! I should probably try and learn more about Kwanzaa so we can celebrate that too. Plus I love decorating for holidays,putting up pretty garland, decorating the tree etc. There are not many Hanukkah decorations out there and Santa doesn't come to Jewish kids houses!

So I guess even if I try to deny it, Judaism will always be at least a tiny part of me. Along with my own traditions that I started with my family. Like celebrating many holidays and trying to be good people.

Before I publish, I also want to ask if any of you are joining Nablopomo and blogging every day in November? Come on, it will be fun, stressful but fun. Let me know if you are planning on joining. I need more Friends!

Do I Look Familiar Pt. 3

How scary, I mean sweet is this picture? A lovely Jewish family celebrating Hanukkah. UGH! That's me standing up holding the yarmulke beanie on my head. The woman with her arm around me is my grandmother who passed away 6 years ago.
For those new to my blog these "Do I Look Familiar?" posts are about my adoption and my slow and hesitant search for my birth family.
My adopted parents told me many different stories regarding my history. The stories changed through the years until I eventually found out the truth that they didn't really know any of my history. I picked this picture today because I wanted to talk about religion, just a little, nothing controversial, just my thoughts.
My adoptive mom (a-mom for short) first told me that my birth mother was Jewish and so I was "automatically Jewish". This of course was not true. Later, my a-mom told me that because she was Jewish, that meant I was "automatically Jewish". I am sure she really wanted to believe this, but again, this was not true.
I found out a few years ago what the true story was. I was not born Jewish and no one had any idea what religion I was. Actually, they might know but claim not to. Because of this, I had to be converted when I was a baby. An aunt told me that my great-grandfather took me all by himself to his Temple and had me converted. He was in his 80's when I was born so it must have been an interesting trip for me.
I've always thought of myself as being a sort of black sheep in the family (My cousin M might disagree, as he thinks he is). I felt that I was different from my family and just never fit in. The Jewish thing is just one reason. No matter how much I tried to feel connected with my Jewish heritage, I never really did. Well, I did for a long time feel a connection to Jews in history. The persecution for example, I was also persecuted for being Jewish. Of course there were other reasons I was picked on, mostly because I was shy and people thought I was stuck-up. And, the Jewish kids were the worst offenders, I hated going to Hebrew School. I knew kids would be mean to me and I knew the teachers wouldn't do anything about it.
I went through a time when my grandmother(pictured) was dying and I thought I felt a connection to her and to Judaism. I even tried to incorporate some traditions in my daily family life. I joined the Jewish Temple, the only one in the area, so E could go to Sunday school and my hus and I could meet some adults. My hus is not Jewish but since he is the best nicest guy in the world he hesitantly agreed.
BAD IDEA! It was horrible, not right away, but a few months into our membership. I found the other couples cold and unfriendly. I started to feel the same dread when I would bring E to Sunday school. Finally I realized, WTF am I doing? How can I feel connected to a religion where most of the people I meet are mean!? After that experience along with a lifetime of feeling like I am mistreated and don't fit in, I gave up on being Jewish, period.
The point, of which I am writing this long winded post is that I just wonder what religion I was born. Right now I consider myself non-religious, maybe atheist, maybe not. Why can't just being a good person be enough? I think it is. I would love to find out I am Irish Catholic or something opposite of Jewish, just to horrify my family!
The ironic thing is that the best friends I have ever had were met in public school and they were Jewish! But not the "I go to Temple every week" Jew, Jews like me, just good people.

As an update to my actual search. I sent in my registration to the state of New York where I was born and they sent it back saying they can't help me because I was not adopted in NY. I also sent in my registration to ISRR and it's been weeks and I haven't heard other that that they got my paperwork. So it's not looking good. My next step will be to hire a lawyer and try to get my files opened. I will keep you all posted when I do this.

Do I Look Familiar? Part 2

Here I am again, blogging about my adoption. When I first started this blog, I was really angry. I managed to write the first sentence then add the picture. (thats me when I was around 2 years old, cute huh?)

Now that I am not angry at this moment I wasn't sure if I should even write about what made me so mad. My first "Do I Look Familiar ?" blog tells a little history about what I know and don't know about my adoption and my on off wish to find biological family.
Well, on to what made me angry. What, or I should say who, in my life angers me, when I am around that person, my own personality changes. Who else but my adoptive mother. It seems that I have been angry at her my whole life. She in general is a hard person to be around for anyone. Her personality and reasons why people can't tolerate her for very long is in itself a long story and for another post, perhaps.
Anyways, if you read my adoption HX, you'll know what I am talking about. With the following dialogue I had with my A mom the other night. I should also say that the reason the confrontation occured was because as my husband says I "hit the wall" with my A mom. She was only supposed to stay over our house for 2 nights to babysit during days I had to attend a conference for work. Because of the winter storm she stayed an additional night. My patience wore out. I know it doesn't do any good to confront her. I know I will never have the relationship I want with her. I know that I've tried enough and I have accepted this on most levels. However, I was at my limit of pretending everything was hunky dory between us.
We were watching show on kidnapping. This is approximately the dialogue that occured. (thankfully, my hus was already asleep)
Me:" a while back, you said you would call H to see if her kids had found their biological family, I am ready for you to do that."
Amom:"why would I do that, how will that help, I don't think that will help"
Me:" I think it will help because the same lawyer was used and they might know how to find records or have suggestions and you said you would, you said you would help me"
Amom: " I don't see how that will help, but I will, what else can I do?"
Me:"You could give me $5000 to hire a private investigator to help me,you do know anything will help?since I have nothing, no hospital name, no doctor name, you can't even remember where you supposedly picked me up, was it a hospital, was it a K Mart parking lot, you don't know"
Amom:"I'll give you the money, but it won't be enough, and the lawyer said it was a hospital"
Me: "I was handed to you through a car window, and you don't even really know where I came from"
Amom: "they handed you to your father"
Me:"You might not even have my birthday right, back then a lot of birthdays were changed in adoptions, nothing was ever signed by my birthmother, I wasn't legally adopted until I was 11, what was I until then.
Amom:"the lawyer told me when you were born, you were adopted thats all I know"
Me:"you got me through a lawyer, no paperworked signed, you had to wait 11 years to legally adopt me because of abandonement laws, but how do you know I was actually abandoned? I could have been KIDNAPPED!
Amom:" I just really wanted a baby"
Me:" a lot of people want babies, and they get them legally, and so I was adopted and given a good life but lived my whole life wondering where I came from, never quite knowing why I didn't fit in with my A family, and thats ok because you got your baby. This (and I pointed to me and then to her) will never be ok untill I have answers. I am going to bed now."

And that was the end, the next day came and nothing more was said about it . She was finally able to leave. And I finally had my house and my sanity back. She is the only person that I am so mean to. Yes, I yell at my kids, I get upset with my hus at times, but I never feel like I can't stand them or feel so angry I can't get over it. I never feel like I hate them. But sometimes I feel like I hate her. Most days I feel sorry for her pathetic self, but on that night I hated her as much as I did when I was a teenager.
I am going to spend some time today signing up at different adoption sites. I just filled out paperwork for the International Registry. And I might even call a lawyer this week to see if he has any advice for me as to my next step.
Thanks to anyone who read this venting post. If you have any advice let me know.

Do I look familiar?

I'm adopted. My Birth certificate says I was born February 24, 1968 at 12:30 pm in the town of Niskayuna in the county of Schenectady, New York. This may or may not be the truth. Part of the reason I'm not sure this is true is that I was born in 1968. (at least I think so). In 1968,
and today I'm sure, there are many ways to "adopt a baby", legitamate Adoption agency to the Black market route. My dad says I was a "gray market" baby, my mom denies any other possible shade other than "off white".
I've always wondered, if only in the back of my mind sort of way, what my history is. Over the years my parents told me everything from the not even close to the truth to the what they think might be the truth. For example " We picked you out of all the other babies at the hospital" or "Your biological mother died during birth" or "we were told your mother was short, but pretty".?. I try to give my parents the benefit of the doubt and think that the reason they dont remember much is a sort of defense mechanism they use to protect themselves. It wasnt until recently, within the last few years, after giving birth to my own children, that I have really been interested in finding my biological family. And it wasn't until I actually started investigating ( using the term loosely), that I realized how much I cared about the whole thing. I have only tried a few things, but each thing led me to a dead end. And every dead end led me to a crying spell. I am not a cryer! Except maybe sad movies or commercials. I thank Lexapro for that. But everytime someone told me they could not help me I would spontaniously burst out in tears, like some silly teenager not yet in controll of their hormones. This says to me ,I must really care about my history, whether I want to admit it or not.
Here's my story, maybe someone out there has had a similar adoption and has some advice on how I should next proceed.
Supposedly my adoption was planned ahead of my birth through a lawyer in New York. I was born premature and while I was still at the hosptital, my biological mother left without signing any adoption paperwork. She was never seen or heard from again. According to the lawyer, he was unable to locate her. My adoptive parents still were able to take me home to Massachusetts. My parents say I was picked up at the Hospital. My grandmother told me my dad actually changed his license plates, drove to NY and I was "passed through the window of my parents car" by my lawyer. Because no papers were signed, my parents had to wait 11 years to officially adopt me because of the abandonedment laws. During the 11 years, the Lawyer died, so my lawyer uncle took over my adoption in Mass., and my original birth certificate was sealed forever in NY. I waited years to finaly call my uncle only to have him tell me he knows nothing to help me. He said back in 1979 NY would tell him nothing. I recently tried the NY Adoption Registry only to be told I cannot register in NY or Mass, being that I was born in one state and adopted in another.The woman I spoke to said I was "up the creek without a paddle, and she did not know what my next step should be.
Should I call a lawyer, and if so, from what state? I cannot afford a private investigater. Should I try Dr. Phil?
I have also had some recent medical issues that my Doctor said it would be helpful to know my health history.
It is not the end of the world if I never find out where I came from. I have always been good at compartmentalization whether I wanted to be or not. Its part of the reason I am a good nurse. I can care for a sick child or a patient on their deathbed and offer compassion and caring to them and their love ones without breaking down.(at least not until I am ready to break down, I am not a cold hearted bitch) So I can put my search way down in a bottom compartment for a while untill I get up the courage to try again.