Meeting My Blood Relatives For the First Time

[contextly_sidebar id=”JQm00X1vnKoMLvGeMPpWLwZKYoVACMqW”]I was a bundle of nerves as I drove to JFK to meet my sister, Stephanie, and niece, Rachel, for the first time. We made plans to spend three days together several months ago and while I felt good about these people, they nevertheless were strangers, unknown blood relatives that I found through DNA testing.

Late Discovery Adoptee’s Search Ends

I’m a late discovery adoptee, born in the 1960s when adoptions were kept secret from the children who were adopted. I didn’t know Stephanie existed until 2017 when I hit a breakthrough in my search for my biological father. Stephanie and I have the same father, Steve, who is deceased, and different mothers.

I wanted this first meeting with Stephanie and Rachel to be perfect. Irrationally, I worried that they would find the accommodations at my home inadequate even though the twin beds in my finished basement are comfortable with a bathroom nearby. Everything that could possibly go wrong crossed my mind. What if my nervous beagle, Lainie, bites them, what if they don’t connect with my husband, Tom, or our son, Jake, or worst of all, what if the three of us run out of things to talk about?

But I had a feeling we’d hit it off. Stephanie and I had discussed personal things on the phone, exchanged text messages and liked each other’s posts on Facebook. Rachel and I also had friendly conversations via Facebook. We all seem to prefer digital communication.

DNA Test Helps Adoptee Find Bio Father’s Kin

Stephanie and I found each other after I’d nearly given up searching for my biological father. My cousin, Shannon, a genealogist, pushed me back into active search mode. After reviewing my DNA matches on Ancestry, she encouraged me to reach out to my matches named Green. I contacted a match named Janis, who is my first cousin once removed, and she encouraged me to look up her grandmother’s tree in Ancestry’s database. After poring over that one and other trees and jotting down notes on a spreadsheet, I focused on Steve. I thought he’s either my father or my uncle. His obituary, which I found online, listed Stephanie as his daughter and fortunately for me, Stephanie has an uncommon surname. I found her on LinkedIn and luckily, her profile includes her work email address.

In my first email, I told her we were related somehow, possibly first cousins. I never raised the possibility that we could be sisters. In an email the next day, Stephanie, told me she knew she had a half-sibling and, based on the circumstances of my birth, location and my birth date, Stephanie believed we could be sisters. Looking at photos of each other, we saw an uncanny resemblance. Tom saw it, too.

“You have the same eyes,” he remarked.

Now I know where my blue eyes came from. In a photo she sent me of Steve, I saw a young man with light-colored eyes, like mine, looking tentative in his Navy uniform. The way he gazed at the camera, with one eye looking a little off, reminded me of the way my eyes looked in photos. In my son, I saw a resemblance to Steve.

Having found my blog, Stephanie knew about my long and frustrating effort to find the parents who brought me into the world.

“My heart immediately went out to you,” Stephanie wrote in an email. “You’ve been searching for your biological father for so long.  If it is Steve and we are sisters, it could be life changing for both of us.”

Though she’s not adopted, Stephanie understood where I was coming from with my questions and desire to know my father’s identity. In my experience, it’s unusual for people who are not adopted to understand what drives adult adoptees to search for their blood relatives.

Stephanie took Family Tree DNA’s Family Finder test and, after what seemed like an eternity, the results confirmed what we had suspected. On the phone that evening, I was struck by her openness to this new relationship. I bombarded her with questions about Steve and she was forthcoming with family anecdotes and more photos.

In JFK’s baggage claims area, I glanced at the travelers and didn’t see my sister and niece. Minutes later, I stepped out of the restroom and there they were near a baggage carrel. Stephanie turned in my direction and let out a little shriek when she saw me.

Adoptee Meets New Sister and Niece

We’d all been waiting for this moment, ever since Stephanie booked the flights months earlier. Stephanie and I hugged, Rachel and I hugged and I felt my eyes tear up.

“I’m seeing double,” Rachel said, glancing at the two of us.

Stephanie and I like to keep our thick hair smooth and straight. We have big light colored eyes (my sister’s are green and mine are blue), round faces and similar smiles.

In the car, we talked so much so that I missed the exit, adding a few minutes to the drive home to Brooklyn.

“What’s your favorite food?” Stephanie inquired.

“Greek,” I said.

Stephanie loves Mediterranean food, too and like me, wants to visit Greece someday.

Finding a Kindred Spirit

The first time I talked to Stephanie on the phone, I felt like I’d found a kindred spirit.

Stephanie was friendly, interested in my search and open to the possibility of having a new sister. She grew up in the northern suburbs of Chicago while I grew up 35 miles away in the Gage Park neighborhood of Chicago. We both saw marital combat up close, raised by parents who bickered. Maybe that’s why as adults we avoid conflict.

Our father, Steve, was a talented auto mechanic, the youngest of several children who grew up in rural Arkansas. He was an agnostic like me and an introvert. At Thanksgiving dinner at the home of one of his sisters, Steve left after just a couple of hours. He didn’t enjoy chitchat.

Stephanie describes herself as an introvert and while I like talking to people, I tend to be introverted. When I’m alone, I feel comfortable, creative, able to think clearly and come up with ideas.

Stephanie and I have similar political views. We voted for the same candidate for president in 2016.

After lunch at my home, we walked to Seventh Avenue and turned north. It’s sunny and mild, a perfect day to walk and talk about our likes and dislikes. We turned around at Grand Army Plaza and headed back to Windsor Terrace where we ordered pizza for dinner. Tired from their traveling, Stephanie and Rachel turned in early.

On Monday morning, the three of us took the subway to Midtown where we soaked up the natural beauty in Central Park, checked out the skaters at Rockefeller Center and took lots of photos.

For lunch, Stephanie and I noshed on salads while Rachel enjoyed truffle fries and asparagas at Anassa Taverna across from Bloomingdale’s. After lunch, we admired the beauty and architecture at St. Patrick’s Cathedral. By the time we had walked south to Times Square, it was time to take the crowded F train back to my neighborhood.

Stephanie and I were well into our 30s before we had our children. We love White Castle hamburgers, NYDJ jeans and shopping. We both followed the adventures of Carrie Bradshaw and her friends on “Sex and the City.”

On Tuesday, the three of us took the F train to Dumbo and walked up a flight of stairs to the Brooklyn Bridge. It’s a glorious and windy walk to lower Manhattan. On Broadway in Soho. Stephanie was thrilled to find her favorite store, White House Black Market. At Uniqlo, she and I fell for the same lightweight quilted down vest, a beige one for Stephanie and an off-white one for me.

Blood Relatives Bond

That evening, our last one together, we joined Tom, Jake, and my mother-in-law, Helene, for dinner around the kitchen table. It felt comfortable and cozy. I made meatballs in marinara sauce that morning so all I had to do was warm it up, boil water for pasta and make a salad. My sous chef, Jake, served the sauce over spaghetti. The conversation and the red wine flowed.

I put myself out there when I started this search. I know adoptees who searched for years only to be rebuffed by the blood relatives they worked so hard to find. Adoptee rejection is common. So far, I’ve been fortunate not to have experienced the pain of adoptee rejection.

My other half-sister, Michelle welcomed me the first time we talked on the phone. Michelle and I had the same mother, Lillian. When we met for the first time in Galveston, Texas in 2015, we were nervous wrecks. Michelle was smoking and pacing outside her home as I drove up. Within minutes, though, the anxiety passed and Michelle and her daughter, Chrissy, spent a lovely afternoon getting to know one another. Michelle and I have stayed in touch since that first meeting.

I didn’t know what to expect from this first meeting with Stephanie and Rachel but our three days together felt easy and comfortable. We’re strangers no more. I consider it a gift to be related to these awesome women who welcomed me with open hearts and minds.