The Gift of Family

Family.

What is family?

Webster defines family as (1) parents and their children, considered as a group, whether dwelling together or not; (4) any group of persons closely related by blood, as parents, children, uncles, aunts, and cousins: to marry into a socially prominent family.

Then there is "family origin": the family you grew up in.

I have been thinking a lot this week about family. Over the past several months, I have had people tell me that I need to write down "my story" - meaning my story of being adopted at birth, growing up in a wonderful home with loving parents, the reason why I searched for and found my biological family and my re-connection with them after 36 years. Some have joked that I will end up on Oprah one day - which would be OK - just not Jerry Springer, please!

So here goes ...

I was born June 20, 1961. I was adopted at birth by William Carter, Jr. and Bobbye Rae (McGuire) Carter. They were the most wonderful parents a girl could ask for - I also felt loved unconditionally - safe and secure. We were a very typical American family. My mom stayed at home with me - I have many happy memories of camping out with her under tents made from a card table and sheets, being read to from the ChildCraft encyclopedias and other children's books, playing in our big back yard, playing in the rain or in the cow pasture across the street, waiting for the ice cream truck and just enjoying a very special childhood.
As a little girl, my dad was in the Texas Air National Guard and sold used cars part-time. My dad was "Sargent Carter" (those of you will remember Gomer Pyle - you'll get the reference). I was so proud of him in his uniform. That was "my dad". I was daddy's little girl.
There was never a time where my parents sat down and "told me" that I was adopted. I just always knew and felt special, chosen and loved. The first time I ever remembering wondering about my "biological" family - I was somewhere in my teens and saw a movie on TV about an adoptee searching for her biological family. I must have asked my mom some questions at the time - I don't really remember what she said, but she had the wisdom to contact the lawyer that handled the adoption and was able to find out my biological mom's name at the time of my birth and where she worked. She hung onto that information for many years.
In June of 1983, I was pregnant with my first son, Joshua. On my birthday, I had very strong feelings and emotions about how my biological mom must have felt giving up her baby. I talked to my mom about it and it was at that time that she told me my birth mother's name and where she had worked back in 1961.
Barbara Thompson - Southland Corporation in Dallas, Texas and she had lived in Oak Cliff.
I cannot describe what an unusual feeling it was to just know her name.
Fast forward 5 years - it was 1988 and I was very involved in the pro-life movement. I have always been a strong advocate for adoption and a baby's right to be born. My husband, Mike and I now had to children and were very active in a small mission church in Mesquite.
Several things happened as a catalyst to my beginning my search for my birth family.
First of all, I had several friends that were adopted as children and had spent years trying to find their biological families. I had no desire to go through that kind of a long and drawn out search process. Of course, the internet was not commonplace back then as it is now.
Several couples that we knew were trying to adopt children - with little success. I knew of girls that they had tried to counsel into giving up their babies for adoption - and chose abortion instead. This broke my heart.
I think the final catalyst was a friend of mine from church who was married and had two children of her own, shared her story of how she gave up a baby girl at age 16. She always wondered if she had done the right thing - what she looked like - was she happy, etc. etc.?
My doctors had also advised that it would be a wise idea to find out as much about my family medical history.
I felt a STRONG urging from God to begin my search. I had only a name, a workplace and the part of town she had lived in back in 1961. My father and mother were both very supportive. I basically told God, "OK, God ... if you want me to find her, make it quick!"
I knew it was time.
In early March of 1988 my father and I went down to the Dallas County Courthouse in downtown Dallas and did a couple of hours research We went back the following Monday - again, we only did a couple of hours of researching.
Much to our amazement, on March 7, 1988, we walked away from that records building with a LOT of information.
In fact, I am sitting here looking at that information right now.
My birth mother's current name was "Barbara Rudd". She was married to Merkel Wayne Rudd.
Unusual names.
I knew that I had a sister named Debra that was 5 years old them me and that I had a brother, Charles, who was just 15 months older than me.
I had always wanted a brother and/or sister. I was thrilled.
My dad and I went back to my house where my mom was babysitting my boys. By chance, I decided to open the Mesquite phone book to see if there was a "Merkel Wayne Rudd" listed.
I fully expected for find no such name there.
Imagine my amazement when there it was - my mother and her husband were living in MESQUITE. I was in shock.
My dear sweet (and sometime spunky!) mom picked up the phone and called her right then and there. I remember listening to her side of the conversation ....
She introduced herself and explained at great length why she was calling. In a nutshell: "My husband and I adopted a daughter that was born on June 20, 1961. She has been searching for her biological family. She grew up as an only child and wants nothing more than to thank her birth mother for giving her up for adoption, to learn her family medical history and to possible meet her brother and sister." Barbara listened the entire time - it seemed like forever - and then my mom asked, "Are you the Barbara Thompson Rudd that she is looking for?"
Barbara paused and said, "I don't think so" and hung up. Those words are engraved into my mind to this day.
After a few days, I realized that I needed to get away and think about all that had happened. I was overwhelmed, in shock, hurt and a host of other feelings that I couldn't identify or understand.
My mom kept the boys while I went down to Lake Tawakoni to their lake house. I spent two or three days by myself praying and writing. I write Barbara a long hand-written letter ... 6 or 7 pages (front and back). I told her my story. I gave her pictures of my children and told her all about our family. I did my best to explain that I loved my parents. I thanked her for giving me the gift of life. And not only the gift of life, but a blessed childhood and family. I assured her that I wanted nothing but a relationship and my medical history. I sent the letter.
And never heard a word.
I believe that it was in July of that same year that I was at home during the day with my boys and flipping through daytime television. I stopped on The Giraldo Show - there was a young lady on there talking about the pro-life movement, so it caught my interest. I watched it for a few minutes and realized that the show, in fact, was about adoption. The woman was their with her mother and her birth mother. She had found her birth mother - and now they all knew each other, they were one big happy family. It was a beautiful "fairytale-like" story.
On impulse, I picked up the phone and called Barbara's phone # and she answered!
I could hear the same TV program in the background - it freaked me out and I hung up without saying a word.
A week or so later, I called my best friend, Rita and asked her to call Barbara for me. She called her, explained who she was and told her about me and what I wanted. She reassured her that I wasn't some kook who wanted money or to destroy her life - that I just wanted to know if she received my letter and if she was my biological mom. She said that she was my birth mother but that her family didn't know about me and that she was afraid of what would happen if they found out. But that if I wanted to meet her secretly, I could arrange a time to come by during the day.
It took me a couple of weeks to get up the nerve to call her. I remember that moment vividly. I was home alone and stepping out of the shower. I put on a towel, went into the middle bedroom, shut the door, sat in the floor and picked up the receiver of the Princess phone. I called her.
The conversation lasted less than 10 minutes. I could tell that she was living in fear that her family would find out about me. She told me that my brother and sister-in-law were expecting twins. She said that she was disabled, her second husband had died several years earlier and that she relied on her children to help take care of her. She reluctantly agreed to meet me, but I declined, telling her that I understood her position and that if she ever changed her mind, wanted to tell her family about me and meet me that she would always know how to reach me.
And I left it at that.
Over the next few years, I sent her a few cards with updated pictures of my children and our family.
Periodically, I would get on the internet and do some research regarding my brother, Charles and my sister, Debra. I knew where they lived, but never contacted them. I wanted to contact them so very many times. I had wonderful parents - but I had always wanted siblings. I desperately wanted to meet them - but continued to respect Barbara's wishes - praying that some day she would change her mind and really want to meet me.
It's only been recently that I realized just how much that rejection affected me. You see, I didn't really feel rejected by being adopted. I was thankful and blessed. After all, I had been just a baby. She didn't really "know me."
But being rejected as an adult was an entirely different story.
It was during that time of my life that I began to struggle with severe bouts of depression. I grew increasingly miserable on the inside - always searching for love and acceptance. Always striving to be the best mom, wife and godly woman that I could be, Always wanting to be "better" - to do better - to DO more.
Fast forward again - this time to 1997. My marriage of 19 1/2 years was falling apart - and so was I. In August of that year, Mike and I separated. On Saturday, September 20, 1997 my life forever changed.
I was having lunch with a friend and Mike stopped by the restaurant on his way home from work and told me that I needed to go home. My dad had called my biological sister, Debra, and told her about me.
I was in shock. I was angry. "This wasn't HIS decision to make!" He knew how I felt about respecting Barbara's privacy and wishes - but he also knew how bad I was hurting on the inside. How I was missing "something."
It just so happened, that the whole family was over at Debra's celebrating my brother, Charles, 38th birthday when my dad called.
Needless to say, an ugly confrontation took place and after a couple of hours, Barbara finally admitted that I was her daughter.
I was devastated but hopeful that all would turn out for the best.
I called and spoke to Barbara and Debra on the phone - explained that I had no idea that my dad was going to call the and apologized. I told them that I wanted a relationship with them - but that I had gone my whole life without it and left the rest to them.
I didn't hear anything back from them.
Rejection, again.
It was in October of 1997 that I began working as a teller in the drive-thru at what was then Gateway National Bank in Balch Springs. I knew that my brother and his family lived in Balch Springs. The first busy Saturday that I worked, I opened the carrier - and there was my brother's drivers license and a check. My brother was out there in the drive-thru and he had no idea that I was handling his transactions. This happened two Saturdays in a row - quite by accident. I sent out a note with his cash and driver's license. I felt like he needed to know that I was working there - confidentiality reasons.
The next day his wife, Sandra, called me. She said that my brother and his family wanted to meet me!
WOW!
I was so excited. By friend, Gordon, went with me and I met my brother, my sister-in-law, my two twin nephews and my niece for the first time that next Sunday. They totally accepted me into their family. Charles sent me flowers at work the next day - saying something like "Welcome to the family sis." I will always remember talking to him on the phone during that week and him telling me, "Don't call yourself my half-sister. You are my sister." Those words meant and will always mean the world to me.
On Thanksgiving of that year, Barbara, Charles and his family and my family all had Thanksgiving dinner together at my house. What a blessing.
Unfortunately, things were always awkward between Barbara and I and we never really formed much of a relationship. I met my sister, Debra, once and her life-partner, Pam for lunch one Saturday in December. We had a great time. We laughed and talked like old friends. But Debra was never quite able to get over the hurt and pain of the "secret" that was me. I haven't talked to her since.
In 1999, I moved to Tucson and in February of 2000, Barbara passed away due to complications from heart surgery. I was devastated because I could not come back and attend her funeral and be with my new-found family. Just 14 days earlier, my step-son had been found dead in our back yard from a cocaine overdose, I had just started a new job and had already missed the first 7 days of work - so I wasn't able to come back home to Texas.
I will always regret not being able to be here for Charles, Debra and the rest of the family during that terrible time.
Charles, Sandra, Sarah, David and Daniel and I remain close to this day. I love them dearly and wish that we were able to spend more time together. They are the family that I always wanted and never had. When my dad passed away in 2007, they were there with me at the funeral home and the graveside ceremony.
Barbara gave me life. But what a blessed gift my dad had given me! Not only the gift of adoption, but the gift of family.