Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Happy Birthday to my son....another year has passed.
27 years and 11 hours ago I was in the nursery at West Penn Hospital, having been taken there by the charge nurse against the orders of my mother and the doctor, looking down at the face of my perfect little son. The head full of dark brown hair, the gray eyes that had already begun to darken, the perfect little face, hands and toes....it was the only chance I had to hold my son and to look into his eyes. I told him at that moment that I would find him one day...that nothing would stop me until I found him.
27 years and 11 hours ago my life changed, once again, permanently. Working hard, especially over the last 7 years or so, to change my life has been fruitful although is far from finished. I have 2 beautiful, amazing little girls whom I love more than life itself. I have a husband whom, for 10 years, has been tolerant, encouraging and (tries to be) understanding while standing next to me allowing me to grow and change. I like to refer my transformation over the last 7 years as my transference from the darkness into the light. I am now in the light and shine brightly while trying to share my light with anyone and everyone that crosses my path. My children share my light. I know that, somewhere, my son shares that same light. I often pray that we will be drawn to him BY that very light. My prayers have gone unanswered thus far.
Search angels have condemned me for wanting to pay Kinsolving to find my son, yet none of them have come forward with any rational ideas on how to search above and beyond what has been done up till now. Our website, www.findmyson.org, has been up and running since early last month, as requested by the newspaper reporter that suggested that it be mentioned in his article (but did not do so) has not received even ONE donation. I had really high hopes that the site would be a success and that those that could afford to donate would her our plea and help us find this man after 27 years.....but, again, I was mistaken.
As a first mom that's searching and continuously hits proverbial brick walls I often wonder why God continues to punish me....what have I done? Why am I forced to continue to carry this load? My life has changed so dramatically since I was a child....I stopped hating the world because of what happened to me....because 'they' took my son.....and started to forgive and release all of those negative, blocking thoughts and emotions...but here I am...here WE are...my family included here, still waiting for him to be found.
I am so grateful and happy for those that I've watched search and have found the missing loved one for whom they searched. I've felt the joy and emotional rush for those that have announced their connections. We would, so much, like to share OUR joy for finding the missing piece to our hearts. Perhaps my desperation has grown over the last 72 hours, arriving to the date of his birth. Perhaps the sadness has creep-ed back into my life temporarily because yet another year has passed. I know that I will never stop until we have found him; whether he wants to know us or not. At least my daughters will know if their brother exists.....as will I. This may sound strange to some of you without direct experience within this area but I love my son. I always have. I always will. There has not been ONE DAY that has passed in the last 27 years that I have not thought and wondered about his health, safety and well being. I am a mom. I am a first mom. I am HIS mom....no piece of paper could ever change that.