You don't know me. We met exactly once, on the day that I was born, but by then, you'd been in labor for, like, forty-eight hours, so you must have been exhausted. (I'm so sorry about that.) I hope they let you hold me for at least a little while, but they probably didn't. I'm sorry about that, too.
I should probably back up. Last year, I spit into a tube as part of the audition process for a reality TV show. I didn't make the show because my sister and her husband decided to have a baby (which is a whole other blog post), but I DID get the results from that tube I spit into. And guess what?! They found my birth dad.
He died twenty years ago.
In a car accident, sadly. I learned this from his other kids. I know you knew that he had kids, but did you know that one was only six years younger than you were? I guess he lied about his age. Is that why you didn't get married? I used to think it was because he wasn't a member of your church, but as it turns out, he was. Now I'm not sure what to think. Maybe you broke up with him before you found out about me, or maybe he broke up with you BECAUSE he found out about me. (I really hope that isn't it.) Hopefully, I'll get to ask.
As you've probably surmised, my spit couldn't pinpoint you. I'm quite certain it's because you were placed for adoption, too. But here's the most amazing thing--since my spit is half your spit, it found YOUR birth mom and dad.
Unfortunately, they're dead, too.
Are you noticing a theme? My head keeps reminding me that our genes weren't built to last, but my heart keeps holding on. I really need to tell you thanks for letting me derail your life. For giving me life, period. And for giving me two parents who went to the moon and back to help me become who I am. But you were adopted, too, so maybe you already know. Still, I'd love to say the words and meet you face to face. Again.
Until then, I won't give up. I'll chase every lead I have. It might take a little longer thanks to this lovely pandemic, but I'm strong-willed. I'm persistent. And I'm going to find you (in the friendliest possible way).
Your birth daughter,
Krista
