The Beginning...

My 9 year old son, Finley and I were hiking the other day. Under the bright sun, with his copper hair brushing the top of his blue eyes, he asked me about my birth mother. Recently, he's been asking a lot of questions about our family. About my birth family. Asking me questions like when can we meet them? Will we meet them? Will they look like him? Or me? Questions I have not been able to answer at a time when I want to know as well.


With the records sealed, all I have is a letter with unidentifiable information about my birth mother, her family and my birth father. In the letter, she states she has red hair and blue eyes. She tells me about her sister's crocked teeth, so I might need braces. Her brother's allergy to eggs, so I might have allergies. Her favorite subjects in school, my father's passions. Her characteristics present in my son's reddish hair and blue eyes as they quizzically look up at me in the Santa Monica sun as we continue our hike down the mountain.


I told him we could try. There was a thing we could do called 23 and me. If any of our relatives have also done it, we could maybe get an answer or two. Possibly a picture. Maybe, maybe, even a hand shake or a phone call one day. But also explaining we have no way of knowing what we would find out. Who they could be. What type of life they could lead. If they would feel the same.


We imagined possibilities. Both great and horrific. We discussed different possible emotions. Both beautiful and disappointing. We pictured different scenarios. The gamut of overwhelming, exciting or sad experiences.


He grabbed my hand as we walked down the dirt path, "We can do it together, Mom."


Feeling his little hand in mine, his pulse that beats with the same blood line as mine, as our heirs, we, together decided it was time.


Both thinking, no matter what the outcome, it was worth it.


I was going to my friend Joy's house for dinner that evening.


This is Joy... She'll be a part of my journey.







She's kind of a big deal...










She went to Juilliard for two, count 'em, TWO, instruments.



She's an amazing wife and mother.



She's an adventurer, a traveler, and an all around bad ass...



And she's one of my besties.


Our families are close, since our sons were in preschool, and I thought, who else better to share this experience with. So after dinner... and drinks, I whipped out the 23 and me. Peeled off that old shrink wrap and...



We had to wait 30 looong minutes...


But after, I spit in the tube with the support of my son and my dear friend. Feeling all the feels but excited and confident about this journey. Knowing however it ends, I won't go through it alone. Through it, I hopefully will have more answers than I have now.


So, together, with my red haired, blue eyed son next to me, we sent the kit in. Unsure if it will work... but grateful for the courage to try and feeling lucky we get to do this together.



Sooooo, here we go! Like most things... only time will tell. But, I promise to keep you posted. Xoxo



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