Sometime prior to 2006, I can only assume late one night when I was tooling around on the Internet, I entered my birth information into one of those websites that allows people to find their match based on date of birth and some other data. I honestly only remember doing it in the vaguest sense, never planning on Meeting My Birth Family. So it was rather shocking to get a phone call, in March of 2006, while we were living in Guatemala, from my husband’s uncle telling me that someone had reached out to him based on the information I had entered. My birth mother was about to re-enter my life.
Heart. Stop. Light-headed. I wasn’t someone who had had a life-long yearning to know my birth family. My own family was not perfect, not in the slightest and full of dysfunction, but it was Mine. Hoping to put some distance between myself and someone who could only be a con artist (at this point I had no recollection of submitting my data), I had my best friend call the person who I came to know as Aunt Pat. She was on the phone for quite a while, I believe, before she called me back, in tears (she’s a cryer). She was very moved by Pat’s story and how she had come to search for me.
Realizing that this was, indeed, someone from my birth mother’s family left me stopped in my tracks. Who was this person? Did she want something from me? Did I want something from her? And how the heck would I figure that out all the way from Guatemala. I learned her name, Debbie. I also learned the name she would have given me at birth which now belonged to my youngest half-sister.
Meeting My Birth Mother In Person
In June, 2006, after many emails had been exchanged between Debbie and me, we agreed to meet up at an Applebee’s that was about halfway between my home in Cincinnati and the town in Indiana where she lived. I flew home from Guatemala for the sole purpose of meeting her and my half-siblings. To say that I was full of anxiety on the hour-long drive would be an understatement. This was to be a meeting just between us. Nobody else. She beat me there and when i spied her across the room it was surreal. I grew up in a family where I did not look like anyone else. Nobody ever said “Oh, you have your dad’s eyes.” Or “Oh, you look just like your mom at that age.” To see someone who looked incredibly like me, whom I had never met, was not something I was prepared for.
She looked as nervous as I was. Our small-talk was awkward and stilted. Lunch gave us something to do with our hands…and our mouths. I don’t remember our conversation. I only remember staring at her hands and thinking “those don’t look my hands at all. This must not be real.” But it certainly looked real to the waitstaff, cause…we looked eerily alike. Our initial meeting is, for the most part, a blur, and I can only assume that I immediately called my best friend once I was back in my car to unpack the whole experience with her. I’m sure I’m not the only person who has those moments where life is happening but your brain is off somewhere else in a corner, hyperventilating into a paperbag.

I Meet More Family
A few days later we were scheduled to meet up at the home of Aunt Pat. My best friend drove me and I can’t even imagine what our conversation was like. Nervous chatter no doubt. There were a lot of people there. Debbie’s mom. Aunt Pat and her husband. My half-sisters: Gail and Julie. My half-brother who is affectionately known as Keebs. I’m sure we ate. I’m sure we made awkward small talk. It seems odd to write this and have to say so often “I’m really not sure what happened.” But I don’t think that’s unrelatable. My mind isn’t the only one that freezes up and blanks out during moments of high stress. Everyone was entirely lovely to me, but the biggest takeaway I took from that day is the intense difference between growing up as part of a family with all its shorthand and inside jokes and family stories and deep level of comfort in each other’s company, and growing up completely separate from said family no matter what story your DNA has to tell.
For the next few years I had rather haphazard interaction and communication with Debbie and the rest of the family. I would say that the responsibility for the haphazard nature of it fell mostly on me. The combination of living in various foreign countries during this time, plus my mom’s battle with ovarian cancer, left me in a push/pull frame of mind and affected the growth of our relationship deeply. I will tell you more about that in the next installment of this story.
I would love to hear from anyone else who has met their birth mother or who has been affected by adoption. Leave a comment because I would love to talk with you.
You can also click here to see what else I’m blogging about.
This story made me tear up and I can’t wait to read more! I enjoy your descriptive writing style especially the image of your brain off in a corner hyperventilating into a paper bag. That literally made me laugh out loud and I have been there!
Thank you. Yes. More to come. It will be a while before I get to the part that breaks my heart. It’s harder to write about this stuff than I imagined!
Amazing story! I have a friend who found her birth mother and their storybis amazing. I think they’re talking about writing a book about it. I’d be happy to connect you two. Just let me know!
That is pretty amazing. The heartbreaking part of the story is that I won’t have that chance with Debbie.
BF here (crying), I loved reading it after living part of the story with you. I can’t wait to read more.
You stepped right in and were the buffer I needed at that time in my life. Kept me from being emotionally overwhelmed!
Thank you for sharing this! I am personally on the quest right now to meet birth family. I have possibly found a Half Sibling (which my new-found cousin calls a Half Bling). I am closer each search and am anxious every time I open an email from the DNA sites. I look forward to gaining knowledge and insight and to see if my family looks like me. I am curious if we have similar mannerisms. The day will not be soon enough!
I think there are so many amazing tools out there right now for connecting with people through DNA. Thank you for sharing your journey!
Hi Elesa, My name is Mindy and I’m your cousin. I’m your aunt Pat’s daughter. I must say i cried reading your story and seeing the picture of my sweet cousin Debbie. Even thou we haven’t met yet, you are my family and i love you. I hope to have the chance to meet you. Pat and Kelly adopted me when i was 5 or 6. But that is a story for another time. Hope you and your family are doing well. With love Mindy!
I am sorry that I did not find this right away. I had no idea that they adopted a daughter. Where do you live? If you are on facebook, please friend me so we can talk more. Elesa Marie Labanz. Thank you so much for your kind words.
You are an amazing person sharing this. You were an awesome gift from God to our family. You filled one of the voids we seen in mom’s heart through all those years and I thank you for that. She is in a better place now and her heart is full now with joy. We love you and I must get back to my Cookies.
THE KEEBS??????
I’ve been reliably told that Keebs if your preferred moniker. Thank you for everything – you’ve been amazing. And thank you for sharing that.
You are a very good writer. My mom died of ovarian cancer after a 10 year battle. They found it at stage 4 – so it was rough… But, she was very lucky to have the time she did.