from A.M. Homes

"To be adopted is to be adapted; to be amputated and sewn back together again. Whether or not you regain full function, there will always be scar tissue."

"In my dreams, my birth mother is a goddess, the queen of queens, the CEO, the CFO, and the COO. Movie-star beautiful, incredibly competent, she can take care of anyone and anything. She has made a fabulous life for herself, as ruler of the world, except for one missing link - me."

"And this year is something entirely new, more awful, like going back to scratch and sarting all over again, a new birthday with an old child, the first with four parents instead of two, a schizoid dividing of the zygote further than the gods intended it to go."

"The phone call is thrilling, flirty as a first date, like the beginning of something. There is a rush of curiosity, the desire to know everything at once. What is your life like, how do your days begin and end? What do you do for fun? Why did you come and find me? What do you want?
Every nuance, every detail means something. I am like an amnesiac being awakened. Things I know about myself, things that exist without language, my hardware, my mental firing patterns - parts of me that are fundamentally, inexorably me are being echoed on the other end, confirmaed as a DNA match. It is not an entirely comfortable sensation."

"I go to the gym. Overhead there is a bank of televisions, CNN, MTV and the Cartoon Network. I am watching a cartoon in which a basket containing a baby bird is left outside a wooden door carved into the base of a tree. The words 'Knock, Knock' appear on the screen. A large rooster opens the door and picks up the basket. A note is pinned to the fabric covering the basket.

Dear Lady,
Please take care of my little one.
Signed,
Big One

The rooster looks inside, a small but fiesty baby bird pokes up. The rooseter gets excited. An image of the baby bird in a frying pan dances in the rooster's head. A chicken wearing a bonnet comes into the house and shoos the rooster away. The rooster is disappointed.
I am on the treadmill, in tears."

"Sometimes as a child, I would cry inconsolably. I would bellow, a primal cry, so deeply gutteral, cellular, and thoroughly real that it would terrify my mother.

'Stop, you have to stop. Can you hear me? Please stop...'

If I was able to speak at all, the only thing I would say was, 'I want my mom. I want my mom.' Again and again - an incantation. I would repeat it endlessly, comforting myself by rubbing back and forth over the words.

'I want my mom, I want my mom.'

I need to go back.

I found my birthmother on December 6th of last year, thanks entirely to Suz and her relentless efforts. We've been writing letters back and fourth since then, and each time I sent one out, I was like a giddy 10 year old girl with a first crush, until her reply would arrive. Her mother, Mary Kay ,began writing letters to me as well. Pretty soon, the letters had piled up, and I learned more and more about these two amazing women, and it felt as if Iwere missing this huge part of myself. Though I hadn't met them yet, I felt so connected to them that I actually MISSED them when I wasn't reading their letters. I knew it was time to go out there.

After a few roadblocks and much weeping and gnashing of teeth, I finally got my ticket out to Vegas. At Thanksgiving, my grandfather overheard my A-mom and I arguing about my going out there, and he gave up his frequent flyer miles so I could go. Per my A-mom's request, my two aunts accompanied me (which...was annoying and semi-intrusive at times, once we were there...but, beggars can't be choosers, right?).

Stacey met us at the baggage claim, and I stood there like a dunce and called her cell phone, not having a clue where she was...turned out she was BEHIND me laughing (so were my aunts). It was...surprisingly un-emotional. I was almost disappointed in myself. We were whisked off to the hotel, and I was too stunned to speak the entire drive. I just sat and stared at her. She told me not to cry, that she couldn't deal with tears...so I didn't. She helped us settle into the room and said she'd be back bright and early...that Mary Kay had a whole itenerary planned out for us. I don't think I slept the entire night. How could I?! Would YOU sleepafter a day like that?

It was December 15th, but I was greeted the next day by Stacey, Mary Kay, Jay (Stacey's fiancee), and Christmas presents. Mary Kay had gotten me photoalbums. ..one to hold pictures from the trip, and the other for my actual photography (does that sound snobbish? cause it's not supposed to...lol). I was whisked away to the Luxor, where we had lunch. Afterwards we headed upstairs and saw a3D IMAX of the deep sea adventure. Mary Kay was HILARIOUS. Every time a fish would swim "out" at us, she'd flinch and scream and grab my arm, trying to avoid...death by fishtail?

It was then that Itruely felt HOME. This was my family...I felt complete at that moment. I felt my heart sink while I thought about the "could have's" and "would have's" of growing up in my natural family. I tried not to get upset, and found myself having to remind myself that"the grass is always greener"...but I couldn't shake the feeling of complete normalcy...I was in awe of the natural bond I had to these two women whom I had only been speaking to for a year. It was as if I'd known them a lifetime.

We did a WHOLE lot of walking and a WHOLE lot of shopping. Mary was doing the grandma thing and insisting she buy me little gifts everywhere we went.  I accepted them graciously, and held myself back from throwing my arms around her and knocking her to the ground with the biggest bear hug in history.  We went to a jousting/dinner show at the Excalibur. Mary Kay was so into it I almost died laughing. It was the most fun I've had in ages. I passed out almost immideatly after I touched the matress that night.

The next few days were a blur of me staring from Stacey to Mary back and fourth, studying their features, laughing at their mannerisms that were reflected in me, even though this was my first time meeting them.
The night before I left, we spent the evening at Stacey's house. Between Stacey and Mary buying me gifts, and Jay winning me stuffed animals at the game rooms, I had accumulated so many things that when MaryKay handed me a little white box, I rolled my eyes playfully and insisted she didn't have to do that. I accepted it after making sure this was the last gift, and opened the box to find a small note. Stacey gasped and laughed, asking Mary Kay if THIS was what she was sobbing about all day. She retold the story of how all day, Mary Kay would start to tell her about the gift, but would always cut herself off, crying uncontrollably. I hesitantly opened it and removed the note from the box, revealing a necklace in the shape of a star. Mary Kay giddily told me to "Read the note! Read the note! Out loud!"
It read:

"The day you were born
I talked to the stars - Make her strong
Make her brave.
Make this the right thing to do"

When it came time to say goodbye, Mary grabbed my hand and squeezed, reluctant to let me go a second time. Stacey hugged be tightly, but quickly pulled away, not wanting to let me see her cry. She failed miserably. As soon as she got in her car, I saw her collapse onto the steering wheel, Mary Kay quickly joining her at the dashboard.

It killed me to let them go again and the plane ride back was long, teary, and frankly, gave me a stomachache - a physical manifestation of the 20 year longing for my mother.