Through the power of Google, I found birth mom living in Illinois, working as a Pediatric Nurse Practitioner. Still working? Illinois? Why would she choose to live in Illinois? Then, I remembered my Facebook family tree and recalled a few family members living in that state. Using tax records and People Search, I determined that she was living near her oldest sister. My non ID report explained that mom's oldest sister took care of her during her pregnancy. She was the only other sibling who knew about me. My gratitude and love for this mysterious Aunt was enormous. After all, by taking care of mom, she really was taking care of me too. She took care of both of us, which was sweet beyond measure! I couldn't wait to thank her. Still thinking it best to have my case worker act as my intermediary, I nudged her back into action.
My case worker sent certified letters to two addresses where I thought mom lived. When another week passed in silence, I asked her to send a letter to mom's sister's house. My poor case worker! I'm sure she had other work to do, but we were so close; I had to stay on her case. Well, she forgot to send the letter. The following Monday, I did what I told myself I would not do. Admitting this is hard. Yep, I called mom's office. Knowing that I'd have to leave a message with the receptionist, made it a little easier, but I still practiced what I'd say a few times before pushing the numbers. Here's how my message went: "Hi, I'm trying to get in touch with *** about an upcoming reunion. Could you have her call Kelly at ******* please?"
An upcoming reunion... I should say!
Apparently, while I was leaving this message at mom's work, my case worker called mom's sister's house. A man answered. A man? My case worker explained that she had been trying to reach *** with no luck. Do you know what he said? Get this: "Oh yes, you'll never reach *** without her cell number. Here is it is." Bless his heart. He just gave her cell number out to a total stranger... thank goodness! The moment I heard this news was electrifying.
Call her, call her, call her, I implored my poor, overworked and underpaid case worker. When? When are you going to call her? Did you call her yet? She promised to call birth mom THAT night. Come on... CALL HER!
"Okay, Kelly, I'm calling now and I'll call you right back."
Aaaaaaaaaaa, the waiting was almost over. What would she say? Would she freak out? Surely, she'll freak out. Poor gal is about to get the phone call of her life and doesn't have a clue that it's coming. Bless her. I hoped to heavens that her sister is around to help her process the event with a jug of wine!
"Okay, Kelly, she was happy for the call! She asked if you were okay or if you were you sick? (Nurse Practitioner after all). She answered the phone while picking up pizza for dinner, so the call was rushed! I gave her your email address and said that you were excited and- no, not angry. She was afraid that you might be angry. Kelly, from here you have to let go. Give her space. It might take a day, a week, a month or more until she feels ready to contact you. I feel good about the call though, like she will make contact. Her voice was very pleasant."
Let go. Surprisingly enough, letting go felt GREAT! I did my part. She knows that I'm alive and okay and and not at all angry with her. I can live with this and only this if I have to. Relief and peace washed over me. I slept like a baby that night.