This is my first time ever writing a blog. I am usually really shy about sharing my writing with people for some reason, especially when it comes to writing about my life and feelings. I feel, however, that this is a place where I can share without fear, because everyone here is so positive and loving! Plus, I have great news that I want to share with everyone! So...here's my story.

When I was a baby, I lived with my biological parents for a few months, but then my biological mother went to prison for drug charges. (I know I get right to the point. haha) She called her ex-stepmother whom she had remained very close to over the years and asked her to get temporary custody of me. I guess she was afraid that my biological father, who was very loving, but also had problems, would take me and she'd never see me again. So as far as I was concerned from that time on, my biological mother's stepmother was my mom. When I turned five, I was legally adopted. From this point on. When I refer to my mom and dad, I will be referring to my ADOPTED parents.

I always knew I was adopted. I don't think I understood what that meant for a while, but as I grew older, it was just something I knew about myself. My life growing up was very happy. I lived in a small town in New Jersey (Yes those exist...New Jersey isn't all wall to wall apartment complexes. Ever hear of the Pine Barrens?) I grew up in a middle class, Christian home. I never needed anything, and I wanted for very little. I guess you can say I was a bit spoiled and very sheltered. I won't deny that. I love my adopted family as if they were blood. They have sacrificed so much for me, and I would sacrifice anything for them. We have a VERY strong bond.

My biological mom struggled with drug addiction for a very long time. She lived in Colorado, and we'd only be able to talk on the phone. She was in and out of my life throughout my entire childhood. My BEST memory of her growing up would be the time I went camping with her, my parents, and my biological grandfather in Moab, Utah. We spent the whole week giggling and hugging and sleeping under the stars (because really RV's are lame and we're way too cool for those..jkjk lol) We had the best conversations and time seemed endless. I never wanted my time with her to end. I wanted to live the rest of my life, with my adopted and biological family all in one happy place, sleeping under the stars.

My biological mom continued to struggle with her addiction for a few more years. I'd pray for her every night before bed, but nothing ever seemed to happen. She never called me, and no one in my family knew where she was. I couldn't understand why she wasn't in my life anymore. Eventually I made myself forget about her because I didn't want to think about it anymore and just forgetting was a lot easier. When I was in my pre-teens, she went to prison again. By this time, I was so angry at her. (I was starting puberty though, so I guess I was angry at everyone and everything.) I just didn't understand why she couldn't just pick me over drugs. Why were drugs so much more important than me? I used to get letters from her, and I'd respond to some, but most I just kept in a box because I felt like I had nothing to say to her. I had virtually given up on her.

With her back in my life in the form of letters, it made me start thinking about my adoption and this is about when I began to understand what it meant. I started to think about my biological father and I wondered who he was, where he was and why he wasn't in my life. I have absolutely no memory of him. So I started asking my adopted parents. My mom told me that he was a very sweet dad and that he really loved and cared about me, however he struggled as well. I wished he could be in my life, however I thought it could never be possible, so I just pushed it aside and forgot about it.

When I was in High School, my biological mom went into a drug program, and eventually got out and continued an outpatient program. I heard from her a lot. She'd call me often and we'd have long talks. I let go of my previous anger. I understood by that time, that drug addiction is a very difficult thing to overcome and loved her for pushing through and fighting her addiction. She has now been clean and sober for almost a decade! Anyway, the more I spoke to her, the more the thoughts of my biological father returned. I wanted to find him, so I began searching on the internet. His name is a VERY common German name however, and I didn't know anything else about him. I would spend hours typing in searches, and checking different social networking sites. I thought it'd never happen so I just pushed it aside, but as always, it lay there, dormant.

Now, let's get to the present. I'm 22 years old now, and my 17 year old sister, who was raised by her aunt on her father's side had already moved out to Colorado with our mother. In early October, my biological mother called me and asked me if I'd move out too, to help with her business. The business was not her only reason for asking me to come out. She also really wanted to re-connect with me and have a real-life relationship with me rather than an over the phone one. So...two weeks later, I moved to Colorado. When I got here, one of the first days, we wound up talking about my father, and I expressed my desire to find him. She explained to me that my grandfather's wife is VERY good at finding people, so we called her and gave her as much information as we could (which isn't very much!) I figured it was worth a shot, but doubted we'd get much out of it. Afterall, my internet searches never seemed to get me anywhere.

It's been a few weeks since we had that conversation with my grandfather's wife. Though my mind would occasionally touch the idea of finding my father, I shy'd away from thinking about it. Yes, I know, I have a bad habit of dealing with everything by pushing it aside. haha Anyway...My biological mom and I were outside smoking a cigarette tonight, and she told me that my grandfather's wife thinks she has it narrowed down to TWO PEOPLE! In all my searching, I never got remotely close to that! Even though it's not a 100% sure thing, for the first time in my life, I am SO CLOSE to finding my father and hopefully talking to him! For the first time, I have HOPE of finding him at all. I can't even begin to describe how I feel. I'm in shock, and I'm excited. At the same time, however, I'm so scared that neither of these men will be my father. My BIGGEST fear that goes along with that, is that he's dead. I'm hoping and praying that he is one of the two men that my grandpa's wife found because if it's not, I will be so heartbroken and devastated, BUT I won't give up. From now on, I will keep trying. I realize now, that no matter how hopeless or far away something seems, it's a lot closer than we really think.

Peace and Love <3