On the eve of my son's 35th birthday; Whomever you are, where ever you are, son, I love you. Always have. Always will.

Well, here I am. Into the day that I was admitted into the hospital and a little less than 31 hours before my son was born. It's been 35 years. 35 years of wondering. 35 years of worrying. 35 years of wishing I could go back and could change what happened.

Not a day has gone by in the last 35 years that I haven't wondered and worried about my son; did he have the same bad luck that I'd had in being adopted by cruel, hateful, unloving people or had he been luckier than I had been? Looking over the medical records from my stay in that dreadful hospital and reading about his birth transports me back - like time travel. I can see his beautiful little face and his head FULL of dark, shiny, straight hair. His eyes already turning brown. If I close my eyes, I can feel his warmth on my arms as I held him for those brief seconds a lifetime ago.

Adopted children are often told stories of terror about their first mothers and, I'm sure, some of those stories are true, but our story wasn't one of his being 'rescued' from some horrible, irresponsible teenager. Our story was one of love, loss and heartbreak. My entire life all I had wanted was to be loved. When I realized that I was pregnant, I knew that the baby I was carrying would be my chance at FINALLY being loved. He had been created out of love so I knew that he'd BE love. I fought. As hard as I could. But all I could think of was what it was like to be a homeless, pregnant teenager - alone, hungry and cold in the forests of Pennsylvania - and I KNEW that I couldn't allow my unborn child to live that way. Adding that I didn't want those whom had raised me so viciously, heartlessly and without love to be anywhere NEAR him; I wouldn't let them do to him what they had done to me.

I was promised by Dr. Norman E. Scott, my mother's friend and the delivering physician that 'arranged' *a.k.a. sold, according to his first wife* my son's adoption that my son and I would be brought together once my son turned 18 and Dr. Scott kept that charade going until shortly before he died. It was only as he laid dying that he admitted that he had lied to me for over 17 years in telling me that he'd introduce me to my son. Dr. Scott added that he fed me the lies to keep me from 'making any trouble for his *adoptive* parents' because there had been so many violations of Pennsylvania laws in the adoption of my son; ie: they ALL lied on the birth certificate and the adoption papers in telling the authorities that I didn't know whom had fathered my son when they knew full well whom had fathered him - all so that they wouldn't have to locate him and get his consent.

35 years and it still hurts like it was yesterday. My life has never been the same. I have never been the same. I'm blessed with two amazing, intelligent, kind and compassionate,beautiful daughters and a step-son whom I love like he's my own but nothing can replace my first born son. Nothing. The hole will be in my heart until the day I find out he's been loved and cared for through his childhood as he grew up. My daughters can't wait to meet and get to know their big brother.

Another year. My heart and mind say 'maybe this will be the year!' Maybe THIS will be the year? I love you, son. Who ever and where ever you are. Happy 35th birthday from your first mom and your sisters.

The Universe and my ability to time-travel.....

For those of you whom know me personally, you may remember that my son's birthday is next week; March 1. It'll be 29 years ago, on that date, that I had and lost my son and that I've been searching for him for 11 years now.

This time of year is always especially difficult for me and very often filled with sadness that emanates from a very deep part of my heart and soul.

So, I'm sitting on the floor working on preparing our coffee table for its new paint job and I ask Ari to put Pandora 80's radio on my ipod for me....the VERY first song that came on was "Separate Ways" by *my beloved* Journey. Now you're probably wondering 'what significance does THAT have?' Well, I'll tell you.

When I was in and out of the hospital awaiting the arrival of my beautiful baby boy *whom was due on Valentine's Day but decided to delay his arrival until March 1* Journey had JUST released its new album entitled "Frontiers" and, to those of you who don't know me and my affection for Journey, it would have meant the WORLD to me to have been able to get their new record. *Yes, they were still 'records' back then* On the morning of February 28th, I had some health problems that alarmed my care-taker enough to call the doctor, who had, in-turn, told him to bring me into the office immediately but I refused to leave the house; you see B-93 in Pittsburgh was giving away the new Journey album to callers every hour...I HAD to win. Well, my will power was strong, but not as strong as my caretakers and, within a few minutes, I was forced into the car and off to the doctor's office....and from there I was sent immediately to West Penn Hospital for problems that were life-threatening to both me and my unborn son....so the worst time of my life was about to worsen...the only thing that I had to look forward to was winning that damned record. The song "Separate Ways" was the first release from that album so, in the couple of months leading to my son's birth, it was played and played and played, like most big name new releases, so I heard it multiple times a day and I felt connected to that song, those lyrics and that band.

I remember very little after the birth of my son after the delivery up and until the few precious moments I was able to see him and hold him and explain to him just HOW MUCH he was loved and how sorry I was that he had to leave me but that I would love him for the rest of his life and that, one day, I would come and find him.....when I arrived back at my family's home after being released from the hospital I had to get some things out of my suitcase, which my caretaker had packed for me since I had no time to do so before getting admitted into the hospital, and when I opened it, Journey's new lp "Frontiers" was on the top of my things...a gift from my caretaker. He KNEW how I connected to that music because he had kept me safe, fed, clothed and housed when nobody else would and watched me for months...the connection to that particular album always has the power to transport me back in time to March 1, 1983...the day that my heart was broken and part of it was taken away forever. And as I sit here and type these words on this blog I can FEEL the pain, the sadness and the panic that was present on that day back in 1983 and it seems as real to me now as it was to me back then. Time travel, my friends, is very much real.

So, I send gratitude out to the Universe for allowing me to continue my 'journey' here in this life when it looked like neither of us were going to survive and I thank my Uncle Larry for taking SUCH wonderful care of the little lost girl who was so sad that he wasn't even sure she would 'make it' through all that was ahead of her and for being so thoughtful as to give me one gift that would, forever, allow me the ability to travel through space and time back to a place that's extremely painful but also SO FULL OF LOVE.

To my son: whoever you are, where ever you may be, there has not been one day in the last 29 years that I have not thought of you. Every birthday that you've had, every holiday, every one of your half-sister's birthdays, every big occasion and life-changing events, even the tiny ones, you are 'here' with me...in my heart, where you've always been and always will be. You are not only 'of me' but also carry a piece of my heart with you. I'm pretty sure I know who you are...cause you look SO much like me and your father and we both pray that, one day, you'll allow us in to share with you all the love that we've always felt for you but weren't allowed to give to you ourselves.

So, whenever someone tells you that there's 'no such thing' as time travel you can tell them that you have irrefutable, first-hand knowledge that there IS such a thing. And every single time I hear that song I'm back at my Uncle Larry's house, hanging on to that phone trying to get through to that radio station, with tears streaming down my face and one hand on my belly - touching my son- fighting the impending emergency trip to the doctor because I KNOW what's going to happen once he enters this world...I'm going to lose him and I don't EVER want that to happen. Time travel IS real. I am living proof.

I love you, my amazing, beautiful boy...and hope that this year is the best one for you yet.

Who am I?

So...here I am again....this time not quite sure where this blog will take me but eager to get this out.

After something that I consider to be wonderful happened in my life last Monday, I received a message from someone that, once I read it, made me feel as if I was about to face another loss. I can't explain the details; but it felt as if my heart was being broken again.

So I'm sitting and trying to see the 'light' in all that surrounds me and who I am and the question enters my mind of who I really am....when I try to define who I think I am, every description is about what I DO rather than who I am. The reality hits me that I have NO IDEA who I REALLY am. I am the first mom looking for her son. I am the Life Coach that helps people change their lives. I am the mother of 2 amazing daughters. I am the wife of a sometimes troubled man. I am the friend of anyone that considers me to be so. I am an advocate of animals, a lover of Mother Earth, a believer that God is an amazing form of true and complete love...and the list goes on. But who AM I? Really?

I am the girl that has no recollection of what my body looked like before it became distorted by a teen-aged pregnancy and spent the majority of her life feeling ashamed of her body because of the damage done by deciding to give birth to a child that I knew would never know me as his mom or know the sacrifices I had made so that he could live. I am the girl that has very few memories of anyone actually acting loving towards me in the family I grew up in. I am the girl whose father would tell her each and every morning just how ugly he thought she was. I am the girl that worries about what's best for others and pushes my own needs aside.

Is THAT who I am? How DO we define ourselves? I know that I have a huge heart that's been broken more times than I care to count; even by some that had no idea that they could even do so. I know that I am smart and strong and capable of ANYTHING that I put my mind to. I know that I am a survivor in that I've survived not only a very un-loving childhood but the loss of my son, whom I loved dearly even though we had not even met yet. I know that I am fiercely protective of anyone that I love because I never felt protected growing up and will never allow anyone or anything that I love EVER feel alone.

Who am I?

I am the mom that loves to laugh with her children because it feels so good to know that I have them to laugh with. I am the person next to you at the red light that's listening to her music very loudly and singing along with it even louder. I am the stranger that will come up to you and tell you how much I love your hair, your clothes, your shoes or your bag and watch your face light up at such a random act of kindness from a complete stranger. I am *still* the comedian that will make you laugh until your cheeks hurt, only now it's genuine and not being done to hide pain. I am the woman in search of her son that was taken away by people that looked me in the eye and told me that I should have never been born.

Who am I?

Do you all ever ponder that question? If so, how do YOU answer yourself? And please know that I am very proud of who I am today; all of those things that I described herein have molded me into the person I am today. A person whom, after many, many decades of self-loathing, love wholly and completely....exactly the way that I am. You see, THAT is my greatest accomplishment in this lifetime thus far. I never, ever dreamed that I would ever be able to look into a mirror without hearing all of those hateful things that 'they' all said about me, of which I was one. So, perhaps I don't know who I really 'am' right now, in this very moment; however, what I DO know is who I am NOT and that's that hateful, sorrow filled, negative, angry little girl. That is accomplishment enough for me.

A new beginning and proof that 'it' really does work!

So, here I sit, on a Tuesday morning, after a surprisingly wonderful nights' sleep amazed that all that 'work' that I've been doing actually worked! We're told that anger, hate, bitterness and all of those nasty, negative feelings can actually eat away at us and cause dis-eases like cancer and that we should work on letting go and forgiveness, right? Well, I'm here to tell you that they're SOOOOO right!

I had an (over) hour-long conversation with my son's bio-father last night; after about 25 minutes of texting back-and-forth first. Let me go backwards here for a second; for those of you whom do not know our 'story'; we are the parents of a son who was lost to adoption almost 29 years ago. His name is Mike, and we had only seen/spoken to one another twice in the last 29 years.

On Monday morning, I turned on my BB and saw a Facebook friend request from him and nearly fell over. My eldest daughter felt that she had to remind me to stay focused on my driving while driving the girls to school; she said that I looked pale. I think I was in shock. I wasn't sure what to expect and wasn't really sure how I felt about it. After all the years that had passed and all of the anger that i had felt towards him.....and then my intuition kicked in and I realized that, with everything else behind us and all of the forgiveness work I had done, we both had one thing still in common; our son.

So, he sent me a FB message asking if our child had ever contacted me......it took me 14 hours to answer him; again, what did he want? Was he angry? Would he heed the warnings not to jump to any conclusions and hamper any chance that we may have of, one day, meeting our son? Once I replied to him, the communication began and I felt so relieved that I felt absolutely no anger, bitterness or fear...only love and compassion. How strange, huh? *in a delightfully pleasant way* My heart breaks for him after he told me that he'd had no other children; he hadn't been blessed like I have been. He even apologized for all that had been done back then. I was not only moved but also happy to know that I'm no longer in this "alone." Now, that's not to say that the Search Angels in my life haven't been wonderfully compassionate and supportive because they have, especially one in-particular *she knows who she is*..but this is different. I, suddenly, don't feel as if my feelings for my son are something I have to keep quiet about until it's 'appropriate'...he feels my pain and loss, just like most of the Angels do...but this is 'our' pain; he knows how I feel.

It's so freeing to know that all of that work that I have done over the last 10 years has actually paid off. I forgive him - I really do. I just hope he can forgive me. I know now that I did everything that I possibly could have to try and keep our son; I was 16 years old and there were a lot of 'them' and only one 'me'....I hope one day we can meet this amazing young man and that he'll be able to forgive both of us.

Thanks for letting me share. Love and light to all of you! <3

Frustration and all that it brings back to life...feeling like a failure

So the past few days have been very 'trying' for me....trying to retain my positive attitude, thus bringing good into my future. Trying to motivate my children to take their responsibilities seriously. Trying to live with a consistently negative man. Trying to continue the search for my son. As I said...it's been a very "trying" few days.

It still amazes me how much old emotion remains buried deep within until something triggers the memory and then WHAM! it's back at the surface. I've worked really hard over the last 7 years to let go of the past and look forward to the future while enjoying each and every moment of the present. Why is it that, sometimes, I feel like the whole world is out to push my (proverbial) buttons just to see how far I can be stretched before finally snapping? I believe that what we put forth in this world comes back to us ten-fold. I believe that the more we give out, the more we receive and I try to live every day with that as my primary motivation. I know that in order for us to know what we DO want there has to be some contrast of what we DON'T want so that we can tell the difference, but when is enough enough????

I wrote a letter last night to help out someone whom I barely know but who owns a piece of my heart because of his adoption situation. Writing that letter brought up soooooo many emotions that I thought I had 'dealt with.' I know that what's meant to be will be. I have drawn my son to me over and over again; done the affirmations. Played different scenarios over and over again in my head in preparation of that very special day. Preparing myself as best I can and working hard to stay positive.

I have been unemployed since April of 2008. Our savings is now non-existent. Gone. Used to pay bills and take care of the kids. The holidays are coming. Again, trying to stay positive. I have applied for well over 300 jobs since being unemployed - without success. Ahhhhh, rejected again, and again, and again, and again. Does that little (adopted) girl inside me take the random, anonymous rejection personally? I'm starting to think so. I find myself thinking "what's wrong with me? Why can't I get a job?" The Life Coach in me says that the Universe is aligning things to allow me to become an independent, successful personal life coach; however, the abandoned little girl AND the sad, depressed and angry first mom says "nope, it's ALL you. You don't DESERVE good." So now it's my job to help that little girl and that sad first mom to quiet down and learn to love themselves as life coach Melanee loves herself.......but first I need to figure out how to do that.

No, I don't have 'multiple personality disorder.' No, I'm not 'bi-polar.' I'm just like everyone else out there that's struggling with the state of our lives in this country. I don't want to be a statistic and I believe, with all of my heart, that there IS a very bright light at the end of the tunnel. Hell, I can see it, still. My goal is to put on some really comfortable shoes and make my way through that tunnel until I'm basking in the bright, warm, white light that shines at the other end. I've been walking for a REALLY long time....I just wonder how much further till the end....I'm more than ready.

Love to you all.

A life-stopping moment...

So I went to see my youngest daughter's Spring concert this-morning (which was LOVELY.) I dropped her off in her classroom and hung out there for a while then followed them to the performance center, wished her luck and went to stand in line and wait for the doors to open. In front of me were two women; one had a stroller with a very young baby inside. I looked down at this child's face and felt INSTANTLY connected to him but had no idea as to why...there was something in his eyes that grabbed a hold of me and wouldn't let go. I"m standing there, stunned at my inner-most feelings, with the world stopped around me fighting the urge to cry....for a moment it was only me and that beautiful little boy. Odd, I thought, hmmm, a stranger's baby and here I am, ready to cry and don't understand why. I notice the conversation.....it's the woman pushing the stroller talking to the other woman....she's speaking about 'his' adoption.....and his 'birth mother'.....and how this woman standing in front of me wants to keep the adoption 'as open as possible' but that the first mom doesn't appear to be interested...then they're talking about grandparent's rights and whether or not 'her' *the first mom's* parents can win rights...and, again, I'm stunned. THAT'S the connection!!! My heart broke as I watched the woman in front of me push a bottle into that beautiful, fussy little baby's face as she continues to talk! He's 3 months old (yes, I had asked)!!! He needs eye-to-eye contact and a physical connection when he's being fed...not to be laid in a stroller and have a bottle shoved in his face! So he starts to cough and she pulls the bottle out. She tells him that he's drinking too fast and places it back into his mouth; the other woman suggests that perhaps the milk is 'too warm' and their conversation continued. Inside the performance center, he was very, very fussy.....and I understood why.

I wanted to scoop him up and love him like he was my own. I thought 'is that how MY son had been raised?' Did they have no idea of the Primal Wound and how it affects these babies? He was 3 months old! Something in his soul spoke to mine; strange as it sounds, that' s what it felt like. My heart was broken for him; he's looking for someone that's not there and will not be coming. The a/parent seemed dis-connected from him, as if he was just a distraction or something.

I listened to their conversation without wanting to; they were, literally, RIGHT in front of me, facing one another, talking. Both experts on adoption, of course. My gut reaction was, honestly, to take that little boy and run with him...anywhere....and keep him there until his new mother could do some research and actually discover what this little, tiny baby really needs so that he can grow up and feel loved and connected and not unwanted and unloved, like the majority of us did.

It was a life-stopping moment. When I first looked down at him he took my breath away. As if he COULD actually see me. His soul searching mine...for understanding, maybe? My heart broke for him and I didn't quite understand why....then I heard the words 'his adoption' and knew......he's just like me.

The other side of adoption

So, most of you know that I am not only a first mom looking for her son but also an adoptee searching for her paternal biologic connection. Well, back in February I successfully (with the help of my search angel) found my half-brother; she found a FB profile with a name similar to what I had been told by my first mother and voila! It was him. He acknowledged that he was my bio father's son and we emailed, through FB, several times. Upon asking me for some identifying information (to which I had answered correctly) he asked me for 'some time to digest' what I had just told him. I have not heard from him again.

Now, I did NOT divulge the fact that I had talked to his (our) father back in 1996, while pregnant with my eldest daughter; I had pressured my f/m to get me his contact info as some of the prenatal testing came back questionable and they NEEDED answers and needed them fast. She, apparently, had continued sleeping with this very-married man over the years since my birth and relinquishment and knew just how to find him at his work, as an engineer at Chrysler. I called; got a voice mail and left the following message "Hi, my name is Melanee and I understand that I have questions that only you can answer" and left my number. Within 10 minutes my phone rang; it was him. When I answered the phone he stated "This is Ron Huff'. What can I do to help?" I proceeded to tell him who I was and that I understood that he was the donor to the other half of my gene pool to which he replied "Who's your mother?" and when I told him, his EXACT words were "I'm not going to dispute that. What can I do for you?" I almost fell off the chair! I told him that I needed medical background information due to questionable prenatal testing and he proceeded to give me the information that I needed. When he finished I asked him if we could meet one day...his response was "My wife and children do not know that you exist and I plan to keep it that way. Good bye." And, that was it!

The reason I kept this from my bio-brother was that I didn't want to say anything negative about his (our) father. Didn't help.

So, why am I this big, dark secret? Why don't my bio-half bro and my bio-half sister want to meet me or, at least, communicate with me? Don't THEY have the same intellectual curiosity about me that I have about them?? Do we look alike? Are our personality traits similar? Do they see me as a threat of some sort?

So, the angry part of me wants to find my bio-dad and, when he dies, go after part of the estate as his child. Well! I AM his child!!! He even went so far as to send someone else in for the blood test back in 1966. And, I have the adoption papers stating that, in 1972, when my adoption was finalized, they had notified him and he never even responded. What kind of man does that? And then for my bio mom to keep meeting up with him whenever she could to sleep with him as a mistress??? OMG!! They had had a child (ME!!) together that neither of them were raising...didn't the ever think of that?

Ok, so the not-so-angry part of me would love nothing more than to know my half-siblings and to have my children know their bio relatives. Is that really such a bad thing? Really? As an adult, why should I have to wear this veil of secrecy? Why should I have to remain in the shadows? Don't I have the right to know my family? Why doesn't he (my bio brother) feel the same?

I can understand that he's shocked that his father lied to his family about me...that part I get....but, why wouldn't HE be curious about ME??? I'm guessing that he confronted his father and it was denied yet again; however, I'd be willing to bet that seeing my face would tell him the truth about who supplied the 2nd half of my gene pool...without a doubt.

So, where do I go from here? Knowing that my bio dad doesn't want his 'dirty little secret' to get out just makes me more determined to do just that! I'm 43 years old...I'm not going to be anybody's 'dirty little secret' anymore!

It's been a while.....

Well, it's been well over a month since I had the urge to sit and write....avoidance, perhaps? Maybe it's the mood, but I read a comment on a FB post that lit me up a bit and that, my blog-reading friends, is what brought me back to this place.

In this comment a person mentioned the lack of a 'maternal instinct' in 'some' birthmothers; which made me a little irate. On a personal note, I believe that it is that very instinct that allows us to be duped into believing that handing our child over to random strangers was the 'right' thing to do because of our personal circumstances at the time of our child's birth (and yes, they still ARE our children...just because they're taken away from us doesn't automatically change our parental status). Now, that being said, I know that there are others out there whom want no contact with their children due to their lack of self-acceptance of their situations and choices (and I believe that that's ALL it is)....but to the vast majority of those that I know and have met throughout the search for my son feel the same way I do....we loved our children.

Those adoptees that were told horrid stories of how they were 'rescued' from these horrible, unwanting human incubators are the *former* children that should be used as THE example of how this system (of lies) of adoption fails us all. Let's see...adoptive parents pay some agency to find them a baby.....do they prepare them for the repercussions of the 'primal wound' and how to handle the separation from it's biological provider? No. Do they match the prospective parents to the prospective baby? No. First come, first serve. Ahhhh, just like at McDonalds, right? THEN these parents that just 'wanted a baby'...not MY baby, but A baby...can (and most will) tell these children about how they were rescued and kept because of the horrible beast of a birth mother (notice that rarely are the bio dads ever even mentioned) and that they saved them from a horrible life.....'you should be grateful to us for taking you'.....and don't argue with me...please. Lest you forget, I am an adoptee, too. I have other adult adoptee friends and for the majority of us, it's the story we've all been told.

Fast forward to some LUCKY birth parents that have the blessing of finally finding their child (I wish I was one of them) and this child, although there's a natural, intellectual curiosity about where and whom they came from, refuses to 'hurt' their adoptive parents by reaching out (instinctually) and grasping on to their live-givers in order to learn and understand more about whom THEY are as individuals, and they let the birth parent (that not only CHOSE to give them the gift of life but then painfully searched for them until they found them) stay in the dark shadows......how dreadfully sad.

Just this past Friday, after picking up my 9-year-old daughter after school, she tells me that one of the students in her classroom has been removed and placed into another class for telling a fellow student that, because she didn't look like her parents, that she felt that the other little girl had been adopted. Crying the (adopted) little girl calls her mom and asks her if she's adopted...there's no answer. The next day (Friday) the teacher has a 'meeting' with the kids in the class telling them that the (adopted) girl will not be in but that when she returns that it's not to be discussed. Why? There should be more understanding....from all sides.

Do you see the damage that has been done to that little girl by keeping 'the secret' from her? Why was it kept from her? Why is adoption treated, even to this day, like a dark, horrible secret? It breaks my heart. I guarantee, even with counseling for years, her life will NEVER be the same.

Birth mothers are NOT monsters that live in sewer pipes. Birth mothers are NOT uncaring human incubators. Birth mothers are NOT evil whores that 'threw' our 'babies out with the bathwater.' Birth mothers are MOTHERS, the FIRST mothers of those adopted babies and all the secrets and lies are NEVER gonna change that....and I think that alone threatens a lot of infertile adoptive parents because we did what they couldn't....and that's get pregnant, feel that child grow inside us, care for it, feed it, talk to it and love it. Many of you won't like my words, but right now I'm not liking the words of some folks, myself. Thanks for reading my blog.

Love, peace and harmony to us all.

The seas have calmed.

So it's been a couple of weeks of finding our center so this, too, could pass. I'm disgusted by the local media; no one wanted to publish the story about a con man working within the local community. Well, when something happens that's bad enough TO get the attention of the local media then we'll be right there, front and center, to let the community members know that it was the media that decided not to warn them of the sicko that was preying on folks in our community. We contacted every newspaper and news station within a 75 mile radius; no one cared. "Freedom of speech" my a*s!!!

Back to the search. No one's donated anything to our site...which surprises me....Casey Anthony gets donations to her prison commissary account every week AND SHE KILLED HER DAUGHTER!!! I guess that I, as a searching first mom, am not worthy enough because I haven't done anything illegal or because I'm not asking for money to buy bigger breasts...hmmmm. Society makes you wonder sometimes, doesn't it??

So there are a couple of new people helping me with my search now.....we've even gotten some information offered to us by a spiritual medium!! My kids are starting to heal and it's getting easier to bring up the subject of searching again.

One of the things that bothers me the most about all of this is that we, as first moms, are judged by those that don't even know who we are. We are hated by children that have never even known us because of lies told to them by 'others.' Why are we looked at, by the obvious majority, as 'monsters' that our children had to be 'rescued' from? Weren't we the ones that chose to carry these children to term without regard to what it would do to our psyches, bodies, reputations or social lives rather than to end the pregnancy??? Does that really sound like something a 'monster' would do? Why don't many people stop to wonder what it's done to us, as women, as human beings, to have these children taken away from us with no means of future contact? Do 'they' really believe that we 'forget' about these kids after they're taken away from us?

Now I know that there are women on the opposite end of the spectrum; those whom want to avoid any contact with their children. I can't even BEGIN to understand that state of mind. How unhealthy THAT must be. How badly I wish my son would come knocking on my door or call my phone.....only to hear that those children that have searched and found have been shut down by the very woman that gave them life. There's no way I'll ever understand that.

So we're off and searching again. Still shamefully begging for donations to www.findmyson.org. I won't stop searching until we find him. As long as there's breath in my body. Whomever you are...wherever you are.....my beautiful, wonderful son....I love you...I have since the day I realized you were growing inside me.

Down to the wire!!

So, tomorrow's the day....the reporter emailed confirmation that our story will be hitting the Worcester, Mass. Telegraph Gazette tomorrow! Once he emails us the link, I'll be contacting ALL local media..from Tampa to Key West, Orlando and Miami..anyone that'll hear us. I'm nervous, scared and exhilarated all at the same time. Nervous because I don't know what this sociopath is going to do once he gets wind that I'm the one that caught on to him (Not his "sis"!!!), scared because I'm putting my family 'out there' for another part of the US (to be judged) and exhilarated because I know that we're doing everything within our power to get this man's face plastered all over the media so that he'll be soooo recognizable that he won't be able to hurt anyone ever again!

Today, we sent an email to Governor Charlie Crist. We would like someone to answer as to why this man can pretend to be a 3-star brigadier general (with a fake military ID AND a phony press release announcing his promotion as such), which violates the "Stolen Valor Act of 2005" and no one really cares. Report after report after report to the FBI...nothing. Con after con after con...nothing. So we'll do our part. Let's see if we can make enough noise to finally be heard!!!

The search for my son has grown some more wings.....I have new angels.....and they are just that...angels. My cousin, Faith, has been a wonderful, new addition to this ongoing search. We are all rallying together and working as a team....talking, comparing notes...even though all of my notes have been lost to the computer monster....and he won't give them back! I had, however, emailed some of my search info to Faith...and she was kind enough to keep them....now I have some of that info back. My site, www.findmyson.org, should hit the main stream tomorrow...everyone please, PLEASE pray for site prosperity. Pray that donations will come so that we can allow Kinsolving to find my son....that all of the negativity that's hit my family (even from 'friendly fire') can be put behind us and we can begin the next chapter of our lives.

We're very excited at the prospect of this man getting caught. I'll be sure to post a link to the new newspaper article as soon as I can to the blog.

I want to thank all of you for taking the time to read my blog.....prayers are gratuitously accepted...especially at this moment in time. Good night all....see you tomorrow!!! YIKES!

REPOST: Posted and removed Jan. 26, 2010

So here's my original blog that had been removed as per FBI request:

I can't believe I'm having to write this but here goes....I found out today that it was all a hoax. The man that claimed to have 'found' my son through "Homeland Security" is a con man. Has been for years and years according to reports from Massachusetts. This man went through this entire, elaborate scheme JUST to scam me and my family! He claimed to have 'inside connections' to Homeland Security and that's whom he claimed he was utilizing to get into the sealed adoption records. Wow! (I thought) after years of hitting dead ends we've finally found someone that could get us his name!!! Not only did he supply this set of 'Secure Documents" but also his name, his address, the types of vehicles he owned, his adoptive parents' names and that he worked for US Customs and Border Patrol in the Port of Los Angeles and had a level 2 security clearance and that the only criminal record he had was a DUI 4 months ago....BUT I couldn't try to contact him for several months because they'd KNOW that his "record" had been pulled by Homeland Security and, if I came 'up on the radar' within that time period that I could be arrested and held until I revealed my source; thus, causing several 'high security people' serious trouble. I bought it, ladies and gentlemen. Hook, line and sinker. EVERY BIT OF IT LIES!! How did we find out??

Along comes my wonderful search angel, Carol. She couldn't WAIT to get his contact info so that I could make contact with him; telling me that the line I was getting from 'him' was bogus and made no sense. After a few days of waiting for a picture from his "jacket" that was promised to me LAST week, I began to wonder. Last night, with Carol's encouragement and support, I called the apartment complex that he supposedly lived in; the woman in the renter's office had been there for 5 years and handled all leases and payments and said that no one by that name lived there, nor had anyone with that name lived there for, at least, the past five years. RED FLAG....DUH.

Today; called a couple of knowledgeable folks out there and got a contact number for the US Customs and Border Patrol office that handles the Port of Los Angeles ( and a WHOLE bunch of other ports of entry, too)....I spoke to a lovely lady whom was kind enough to check the data base for my sons 'name' and date of birth....she was sorry to tell me that no one with that name and date of birth was employed by US Customs and Border Patrol. RED FLAG AGAIN!! But, here' s trusting, desperate me...still wanting to believe the good in everyone....called a private detective that I had just met to explain to her what this man had given me, where the information reportedly came from, the explanations he had given me about not being able to contact my son, etc. She, not liking what she heard, offered to do a background search for me...and low and behold! All the info is right there, in google-land!! I, at this moment, and as of about 11:15 am EST, am covered in hives, have a horrible pounding headache, an upset stomach and other physical ailments that I don't like to have, let alone make you read about. Both of my children have tummy aches tonight, as well. I had no choice but to tell them that it was all a lie.

We have learned, just this afternoon, that this man has an EXTENSIVE con man history....starting up near Worcester, Mass and carrying on through FL. Not only conning people out of their money but also pretending to be a 3 star General from the Air Force, a former fighter pilot (he has a civilian pilot's license) to being retired from Blackwater and owning a castle in England that he inherited from a former multi-million dollar employer. Lying about things as simple as how his first wife died; telling us all that she had been involved in a car accident, treated at a local hospital and released, then falling down dead suddenly from an undetected brain bleed. Real story: she died of 'sudden respiratory failure of unknown cause'...are you thinking what I'm thinking??

Now I'm angry...we're all angry...but, worst of all, my 2 daughters are DEVASTATED. They thought that, after almost 9 years of searching, that we had finally found their brother. I think they were as excited as I was!!! Their hearts are broken. My heart is broken. Now comes the question WHY??????? He didn't (or at least hadn't up till now) ask me for any money. This was being done as a 'personal favor for his sis' (that's what he called me)...so no money needed. WHY??? What kind of MONSTER prays on a desperate birth mom and her family? What kind of MONSTER pretends to have 'inside connections' to sealed records KNOWING DAMN WELL THAT HE DID NOT!!!!????!!!!! Why would someone DO this to another human being??? If I could contain my anger, heart break and disgust near him I'd be almost curious to see how he was going to con his way out of this one! Our guess: he had told me just this past Monday that he had, once again, contacted his connection in Homeland Security to request my son's cell phone number and 'jacket' picture and that he, himself, was going to contact my son and fake an interview for a Blackwater job...he would then ask him a battery of personal questions that included whether my son had ever considered finding his birth mother. I FLIPPED out on him...telling him that he couldn't do that; he has NO KNOWLEDGE of either side of the adoption trauma and that, without knowledge, he could ruin ANY chance I had at meeting my son. This man then told me that he was going to do it with or without my blessing. So, the hunch is that he would have come to me and said that my son had no interest in me so as not to blow his con artist cover but still, in his eyes, look like the hero by being able to get information that no one else could get.

For those of you that know me personally, you know what an error it was for this man to mess with my family; especially the hearts, spirits and souls of my daughters. There are already things set in motion to see how this man's karma can come back at him 1,000 fold through legal and public entities; anyone that knows me knows just how resourceful I can be. But now there's been a multitude of search angels, 2 different private investigators and a multitude of supporters that I have met over the years of searching yet we still are NO closer to finding my son.

So what I'm doing is setting up a web site in order to accept monetary donations until I've reached my goal of $3,500. so that I can hire Kinsolving to find my son for me. They are the ONLY organization out there known to find the 'unfindable'. I have sent them an inquiry and they say that they can help me so I've gotta do it. But there's NO WAY we can afford their fee...it would take me another couple of years to save up that much money in this economy. I can't wait that long. My site is www.findmyson.org It will be up and running within the next 24-48 hours. Donations will be accepted by paypal at melanee.findmyson@gmail.com as well. If you know anyone that would help, PLEASE send them to either place...my heart can't take any more disappointment. Thank you all for reading my blog.

Now, there have been some changes since this blog originally hit the net.....the FBI decided NOT to pursue charges against this man; although he continues to pretend to be a 3-star general and carries a fake military ID (which is a blatant violation of the Stolen Valor Act of 2005) because he's deemed a 'white collar' criminal. After direct contact with various arms of law enforcement; from the FBI down to local police officers, it's acceptable to say that some people CAN get away with anything! There are 2 confirmed warrants for this man in Massachusetts; however, the state will not extradite him from Florida.

HOLY CRAP is all that I can say...

So by now we all know that I could be within only 72 hours of finding my son....my mind is REELING....does he look like my family? Does he have my personality? Do my girls look like him? Will he want to talk to me? If not, will he want to know his half-sisters? OMG, my mind is a whirlwind. Anticipation is crazy; I've waited almost 27 years for this so why does the prospect of waiting 3 more days make me want to jump right out of my skin?!?!? All the memories...all of them...are rushing back...the few precious moments that I saw him in the hospital and was able to hold him; his (already darkening) eyes, his head full of dark, shiny hair, hearing him cry as the doctor removed him from the hospital as they were putting me in the car..... all those emotions...the hearing where they made me lie to the Judge - my panic at the realization that I couldn't stop them.....'they' were taking my son.

All of the first moms that I know, personally, share one common fantasy...that when we finally found our children that they come running to us with open arms; telling us that they've been waiting for us to find them....the proverbial 'happy ending' (as happy as all of this can be anyway). I am fully aware that not all children welcome their first moms into their existence; which, as an adoptee, I just can not understand. I can only imagine how my life would have been different if either birth parent had told me that I WAS wanted by either one of them. But, that's just me. I know how I felt when, the one time I had spoken to my birth father, he said that he 'wouldn't dispute' that he was the 'donor to the other half of my gene pool'......shocked, saddened...and that little girl that keeps popping her head out for some love was crushed. So the question I pose is "Why?" Why don't they want to know about their conception, birth, genetically-related families? Isn't there some sort of a natural, intellectual curiosity about where they came from, whom they resembled both physically and intellectually and any pertinent health issues that they may pass on to their own children? Have their adoptive parents told them 'stories' about their birth parents that make them want to shun us? Are they angry at us? If so, why??? Doesn't anyone tell them how difficult it is for us to try and find them?? Do they know that we have NO RIGHTS to them, whatsoever?? That some of us didn't 'give them away'??? Hasn't anyone ever told them that it's hell on us to not have our children? Hasn't anyone told them that we have nightmares about terrible things happening to them BECAUSE they were taken away? Don't they need to know that we are told that it's what's "best for the baby" to let them go to strangers...by the same people that told us that we should just 'forget about it'??? Do they know that we were lied to and manipulated and that we have to live with all of this for the rest of our lives???? Do they realize that some of us literally destroyed our bodies by carrying them and delivering them?? Stretch marks from neck-to-knees, mis-shapen breasts, scarring 'down there' from either tearing or episiotomy?? Does anyone tell them that (and I think I speak for the majority of us) not a day goes by that we don't think and worry about them? I know that each and every time I saw a baby, heard a baby cry or even laugh it broke my heart all over again. Now, keeping in mind that we're not allowed to ACT as if we're missing part of our soul...no, now that's just unacceptable. We have to 'go on with our lives and forget all about it." (Really?? I mean, REALLY???) If some adoptive parents really believe that we are these horrible monster-incubators that randomly conceived, bore then left a child then why do some of them feel so threatened when they discover that these 'monsters' are looking for their children? If they've 'saved' these children then there shouldn't be anything to fear, right? Maybe one should carefully choose the stories they tell to their non-biological children so that the possibility of the bereaved first mother finally finding them won't be so scary, huh? As an adoptee, I can speak for only myself, but believe that adoptive parents rarely think of what's best for the child...but we, as first moms, are told that it's all we're allowed to even consider.

Only another first mom can know how difficult it was for me to tell my children about my son. To explain to them that they have a brother out there, somewhere, that they have never seen nor heard about before that moment. To have to answer the questions that follow....see the tears, feel the anxiety about whether or not they'll ever meet the brother that shares their mom. Some of you women, whenever you go into a doctor's office and fill out the health forms, see the question "How many children do you have?" and never, ever even bat a (proverbial) eye at that question, do you? A first mom does. We KNOW that we should answer the question honestly (in my case, "3") BUT we stop and ponder our answer. Why, you ask? Because JUST BECAUSE our children were taken away from us doesn't discount the fact that we carried those children for 40 weeks, nourished them with our bodies, protected them with our bodies, felt them inside of our bodies and heard their little heart beating inside our bodies. No matter how they try to label us, we're still mothers. Lies, stories and manipulation can never change the fact that WE have a biological connection to our children and that, my friends, always, always, ALWAYS makes us a mom.

Thank you all for your suggestions!

First off, I'd like to thank all of you that have taken the time to read my blog and for the suggestions that followed. All suggestions received thus far have all been identical!! You all have suggested that I write to the "Find My Family" show to inquire about search assistance; however, I was one step ahead of you all...LOL...I had already printed out the app from their web site.

So here's the thing about "Find My Family"...their application is geared mostly towards adoptees. Now, there are other questions about whom you would like them to search for: high school sweethearts, military personnel, long-lost relatives, but this questionnaire is basically geared towards adoptees. The questions are about where you were born, whether or not you have a copy of your original birth certificate, what info you have on your b/parents including any non-identifying information....sadly, not one question about finding a son or daughter lost to adoption.

Now, I am painfully aware that there's another side of the adoption rights nightmare and that is those women that choose to hide from their children but, frankly, I choose not to give them anything other than one small paragraph in which to acknowledge that they do exist. You see, I can not blog about something that I have no personal knowledge of and about something that I could never understand. With everything that I went through to give my son the gift of life (and it is a gift if you consider the alternative) I have never, EVER looked at him as something to be ashamed of. It wasn't HIS fault, now was it? He didn't asked to be conceived, he didn't even ask to be born....he didn't have a voice...I was his voice and I wanted him to live. These women, whom I just can not even begin to understand, act as if these children that they carried and delivered are some type of monster that should be kept in hiding....I find that unconscionable. All the pain (phyiscal, emotional and mental) that I endured to allow my son a chance at life was worth every moment that (I pray) he's been alive. I feel that these children (and again, I remind you that I am one) have a right to know, and have access to, their medical 'blueprint.' I also feel that those that adopted them should have some type of mandated pre-adoption training that they, like all students, should be required to "pass" before being enabled to raise these children. Again, there has not been a single day in the last 26 + years that I have not thought and wondered about my son. To be so ill at heart as to not wonder about the child that you fed, nourished and carried within you boggles my mind.

And, I ask you to ponder this question...if we, as first moms, are such terrible, evil, unloving creatures on the planet why, then, are adoption records sealed? Why do you want to keep us, as first parents, such a secret from our biological children? If we were these horrible creatures that forced you to 'rescue' our children, why hide? Why lie to them? Why not be open with these children from the beginning, hence lightening the strain of the Primal Wound in all of us??

Yes, you guessed it. I also believe that we, as first moms, should have some rights, too (of course I do, you say, because I am searching for my son).....but had anyone considered the circumstances of my son's being placed up for adoption? Did the judge that heard me sobbing on the witness stand say to himself, "hey, this young girl seems to be really upset about a decision that she's supposedly made, Perhaps I should ask her some more questions, perhaps I should ask her parents, both of whom are staring at hers with daggers coming out of their eyes, to leave the room and speak with this girl privately"...um, NO. Did the attorney (whom should be dis-barred if he's still alive for being part of something so terribly illegal) say to himself, or anyone else for that matter "this girl doesn't want her son taken away from her, this is morally wrong"...um, NO. But, in the eyes of most of the adoptive parents that have crossed my path on this search for my son, I am a cold, unfit woman that didn't 'want' my child and have no business even looking for a child that 'they' raised, that 'they' loved.....after all, if I had been a 'good mother' to my son then I wouldn't be looking for him, right? So, so, SO wrong. Our love for these children are the very reason they even exist for these people to raise. Had we made another decision after finding out we were pregnant would they have that child to raise?? Some have argued that what I have done (as a first mom) was not a gift. Not a gift?? Really??? Without my gift you'd have no child. But, I digress. Besides, my gift was for my son...not for anyone else. It was for him to have a chance....a chance at a better life than I had...unfortunately his chance just wasn't allowed to be with me.

Over the last eight years since I began my search I have heard from both sides of the adoption issue....some of these children weren't even told they had been adopted and found out by accident while others were told that they had been 'rescued' from mothers that didn't 'want' them. Some were actually lucky enough to have kind, understanding a/parents that told them that they were given up out of love. These adopted children (and I am one of them) and their birth mothers have that gaping, Primal Wound....which appears never to get addressed. As a first mom, I feel it. As an adoptee, I feel it. For those of you unfamiliar, the Primal Wound refers to the fact that we are carried by our first moms; being an actual part of her physical anatomy, as she was ours....her blood flowing through my veins and mine flowing back through hers, sharing her nourishment, her emotions and all the while hearing her voice and feeling her movement...for approximately 40 weeks. She's all that we know. She's as much a part of our biological make-up as we are hers while inside the womb. Then we're born....out into the bright, cold world. Most of us (like me AND my son) were taken from our first moms at birth...never to be reunited in intimacy as mother and child. So, here we are...tiny, helpless infants...the only voice we've known, the woman with whom we shared our biological selves with, the heart beat that we knew and shared for all those weeks...but she's gone. She's left with a sudden removal of someone that was an actual part of her....gone. Connection still present but physically removed. That, my friends, in a nut-shell, is the Primal Wound. This, my friends, should be a subject that anyone looking to adopt and anyone thinking of surrendering their child should have to be counseled in...MANDATORY. To me, it's like a giant hole in my heart that never heals...not even after I had my two AMAZING daughters.

Now, I'd give just about anything I have to be able to switch places with my son's adoptive parents...hell, anyone's adoptive parents....so that they can spend even 10 minutes with the pain and anguish that comes with losing that child...with wondering if they're ok...with wondering if their lives WERE better for the sacrifices we've made. It was for the children, after all, that we're told all this was all for....and that's why the majority of the first moms I know did it...because 'they' told us it was what was 'best' for our babies. So you spend the next decades wondering and worrying about whether what 'they' told us was true....all the while we still have to go on with life...finish school (like I was DETERMINED to do even AFTER the school tried to throw me out for being a 'poor example of moral fiber'), marry (or not), work....life still moves forward whether we hurt for our children or not. This is my life. These were my choices. My choices created a life. A life that was allowed to begin...that, my friends, is something that I shall never, ever regret.

Melanee