My Life In Bullet Points

I need to preface this–very long–post with some background stuff.

My mom gave me my adoption records a long time ago. I’ve gone through them several times. They were put in our lock box and forgotten.

Yesterday, Tucker was going through paperwork and sat a stack of papers in front of me and told me to go through them and figure out what I wanted to get rid of.

Finding that receipt threw me right back into searching for my biological mother.

One of my sorority sisters, Stephanie, had offered help finding my biological mother in the past and I was a flake and never followed through. This time, I didn’t flake.

After about a day of searching, we are fairly certain we found the right woman.

I don’t have any way of getting in contact with my birth mother. This isn’t me calling her out on the carpet. This is the only way I have.

To everyone who is not her: Read if you want to read. You’ll probably learn more about me than you ever wanted to know.

To my birth mother: I tried calling you on the number I had for you; it was disconnected. I have no plans of connecting with my siblings unless you send them my way.

I’m afraid you’ll find out all you want to know by reading online–here and on Facebook–and you won’t want to talk with me. You’ll have all the answers to questions you might have been asking and I’ll have none.

There isn’t enough space on this site to chronicle all I want to share with you.

Stupid little times I’ve thought of you. Wondered what you looked like. Where I got my nose. How much nature matters over nurture–that’s always been a pet interest of mine.

I don’t want to push you into something you’re not comfortable with…I’ll take whatever I can get. Up until now, I’ve only had searching.

I’d love to have basic information about my medical history and my ethnic heritage; I would like to know where I “come from.” Who my birth father is..his name…something I can start searching with.

This must be doing to you what it’s doing to me and I hate this so damn much but I’ve been looking for 20 something years and I can’t pass up this chance.

I hope you’ll forgive me.

Things about me my About Me page didn’t tell you:

Mom and Dad got a divorce when I was about two and a half.
My first horse’s name was Rosie; she was a bitch of a Shetland pony. Her favorite trick was to roll while I was riding her so she could unseat me. It just made me mad.
Mom got remarried and I gained a step-sister I met a couple of times.
I spent a lot of time with Mom’s parents because Mom worked a lot and a lot of crazy hours.
I wanted to be a Veterinarian.
My grandmother was an amazing woman and I’m blessed to have my grandpa in my life.
I was “tested” in kindergarten and was placed in GT–Gifted and Talented. I stayed in GT until 6th grade when it was no longer available.
My second horse’s name is Victory. She was born in 1989. She’s still alive and lives with Tucker’s parents. Victory likes to think herself a cow so pasture life suits her well.
In sixth grade, I took the ACT through Duke University and scored an18. I was in the 20s in English but math has never been a subject of mine so my overall score suffered.
I played flute from seventh grade until my senior year when I quit band. I wasn’t too bad.
I sang second soprano in junior high and made All-Region Choir in eighth grade. I didn’t get to tryout in ninth grade because I was in the hospital.
When I was in junior high, I had emergency surgery because the doctors thought my appendix had burst. Instead, I had a necrotic tumor–an encapsulated dysgerminoma–that took my right fallopian tube and ovary with it. When I finally went back to school, my choir teacher had told everyone I had a hysterectomy. I was terrified I would never have children.
My oncologist said my type of tumor is hereditary on the female side. I knew I had an older biological sister. I always wondered if one of you had gone through the same thing. I wondered if we would have caught it sooner if we had known to be looking for the signs. Cara’s pediatrician knows about my history so we’ll start with CBCs when it’s necessary.
My dad got remarried and I gained a step-brother. Later they had two kids of their own and I was blessed with a sister and a brother.
My first job was at McDonald’s when I was 16. It was the first job I applied for and the manager thought I was cute so I got the job. I worked there for a while and loved the independence and the money. I told Mom I needed to quit because I didn’t have time to study–even though I never studied–but I really quit because that same manager cornered me in the walk-in and made a pass at me. I quit the next day.
I’d always been good in English and had always been in Honors English classes so AP English in 11th grade seemed like a sure thing. It wasn’t. I was cocky and ended up in my first “normal” English class for the first time in my life. I felt like the stupidest person alive. I was a bitch to my English teacher–Mrs. Travis–and she turned out to be one of the most amazing teachers I ever had.
I got a job at the local radio station and, if you were in the area in ’99, you would have heard me on the AC Top-40 station during the summer. I was good at my job but it was one of the most boring things I’ve ever done.
I thought about running my car into a tree when my first love broke my heart. I didn’t because I knew it would kill Mom if I killed myself. She kept me alive more times than she probably realizes.
I finally made it into AP English my senior year. I also took College English because I was afraid I wouldn’t do well enough on the AP test to secure college credits. I lived on Mt.Dew and Mini Thins for most of that year. In the end, I scored a four on the AP test but it didn’t matter since I had already earned the six English credits with the college English courses. Doh!
I took the ACT twice in high school since the first time my math score would have landed me in remedial math in college. The second time, my math score was a point higher but my English score had gone down and I was pretty ashamed of myself.
I was German Club president. I know very little German now. Don’t use it you lose it and all that.
Because of my ACT score, I earned a full-paid scholarship to ASU. I was in the Honors program and was quite proud of myself. I still didn’t study.
I majored in Animal Science. I had this Honor’s adviser who was the most “little lady” guy you’d ever want to meet. If a chick wore a low-cut shirt, he would comment on it. He was certain the amount of soy in modern-day diets was the cause of “gayness” and he lectured on it. Even though he could be an asshole, he was an amazing man who jumped through hoops for me when I didn’t deserve it. I let him down. I still feel guilty for that.
I didn’t maintain a 3.5 GPA so I lost my scholarship. That’s what happens when you’ve never had to study before and you’d rather screw off than go to class.
I started working at the country station in town. I fell into the job and it was safe and I still hated it. I quit soon after.
I moved back in with Mom and her husband. I took out student loans. I worked at Quiznos. I went to class some. Mostly I didn’t. I still managed to make Bs and Cs. At least I was passing.
I rushed Phi Mu sorority. I loved it. I felt like I had finally met people who “got” me.
I met “Tucker”–that’s not his first name, just what everyone calls him–at an informal frat party. I told one of my sorority sisters I was going to marry him.
Because I didn’t go to class and was in a Freshman level class I had skipped earlier, I earned my first F. I earned an Academic Suspension.
I quit the sorority because I knew I wasn’t making the grades and I would rather everyone think I was a “quitter” than think I was stupid.
I left moved out of Mom’s house and in with one of Dad’s sisters who had always picked me up on the weekends–most–when Dad had other things to do. I was 21 and that was the first time I had ever snuck out of the house. Tucker and I still laugh about that.
I got my own place in the “ghetto” of Jonesboro in the same complex as Tucker. I paid the rent at my place and lived with Tucker.
I started working at the same gas station as Tucker and later became Assistant Manager because Tucker wouldn’t take it. I was horrible at the job and was eventually fired. I had never been fired before.
I got a job at Hastings as a “book associate.” I loved being around the books all day and my manager quickly learned it wasn’t wise to task me with alphabetizing the Children’s section; I had a nasty habit of reliving favorite books instead of working.
Tucker decided the join the Navy since working at a gas station and saving money wasn’t going to get him enough money to finish his degree any time soon.
I bought our dog, Sophie, from my cousin. She was supposed to be MY dog but has always loved Tucker best. I’ve grown to accept that fact.
Alphabetizing the Self-Help section was how I figured out I had ADD: I read Driven To Distraction. I took my list of “symptoms” to the county mental health place.
I was diagnosed as having ADD and a “mood disorder.” I started taking Strattera and various anticonvulsants.
I started working at Teleflora as a temp while I was working at Hastings. I ended up working full time at both places.
I quit Hastings because working one place eight hours during the day and then eight hours until early in the morning just sucked.
Tucker started sending me money from Boot Camp and told me to quit Hastings.
Tucker asked me to marry him in a letter home from Boot.
We were married in Pensacola his first weekend at A-School–July 2nd. He wasn’t supposed to leave Base so we had to sneak him out. We got drunk on cheap margaritas and enjoyed being married.
Tucker rocked A-School–he’s pretty awesome–and he got his choice of orders. We moved to Jacksonville, FL.
I stayed home and he worked. I played at taking classes at the community college. I sucked at life. I started dreaming of riding horses. I called up a local barn and took a “lesson” and was asked to work there for free in exchange for riding cool horses. I agreed. I was stupid, didn’t realize it, but loved riding the horses.
I got a job at the Mayo Clinic in the Radiology department. It drove me crazy to see the interns and I was so much smarter than some of them and it drove me insane. I wanted to do their job. I wanted to prove how clever I was…I wanted to feel special.
My fear of not being able to have kids started to get to me and I told Tucker I wanted to get pregnant. He told me I could either be a mom or have a career. I chose being a mom.
I couldn’t get pregnant.
I couldn’t get pregnant.
I couldn’t get pregnant.
I had a Hysterosalpingogram and Tucker held my hand threw the whole thing.
The next month I found out I was pregnant. I quit Mayo when I found out.
I loved being pregnant.
Caroline–I named her after you [Carol]–was late and I was determined to have her without any medical interventions. At one of my checkups, she started having heart decels and they induced labor. It was a horrible experience. I didn’t progress. I was forced to have a c-section. Blonde hair, BRIGHT blue eyes. I couldn’t help but wonder about my biological parents when I first saw her. I was 24.
Cara and I were a pair against the world. I was the only person she wanted. Actually, I think she just wanted my boobs but I took what I could get.
I found out on my 26th birthday that I was pregnant again. It wasn’t a “good” time for me to be pregnant.
I made an appointment with my midwife from when I was pregnant with Cara because I was cramping. I was about six weeks along and sure I was having a miscarriage.
The midwife spoke with me for a while and they ended up drawing blood and running everything and my high HCG levels with my pain made them worry I was had an ectopic pregnancy going on. All I could think about was I only had one good tube and ovary and I couldn’t lose those too!
They did multiple ultrasounds and couldn’t find anything. It took the Radiologist coming in and doing a scan to finally find a tiny heart beat and an empty sac. I had an Oliver and an empty sac.
Since I had failed at doing Cara’s birth naturally, I was determined to do a VBAC. This time things would go the way I wanted.
Ollie was due on Sept. 11th and there was no way THAT was going to happen. I went into spontaneous labor just after midnight which put us into Sept. 12th.
I got stuck at 9cm and had another c-section.
Ollie was born happy and healthy at over nine pounds.

I’ve been writing this for over three hours now and I’m tired but there’s so much more for me to write.

So many more things I want to say.

I feel like I need to cram everything in here so you’ll be able to read it and be proud of me.

So you’ll know you made the right decision.

Tucker tells me this is about ME and I know where he’s coming from and HOLY SHIT he’s a good man and he loves me and I love him and he’s an amazing husband and father but damn if I don’t need you to be proud of me.

We have a house in a nice neighborhood. Our kids will go to a great school. Cara starts kindergarten soon; I can’t believe she’s gotten so big.

I have no idea how to end this than to say I hope you’ve read this.

I hope you found your answers if you had any. I hope you want to talk with me. I hope you’re happy. I hope you haven’t hurt like I’m hurting now.

No.

That’s not right.

I’m hurting. It’s not your fault. This is me and my need to connect with someone who has answers I don’t. You.

I’m so tired of searching. For answers. For you.

This isn’t ending at all like I had hoped.

I don’t want it to end…

*Edited to add the happy ending* http://tastelikecrazy.com/2012/08/08/i-talked-with-my-birth-mother-and-biological-brother/