Birthmother's Story - Contact

One has to wonder how many times in ones life can one reinvent themselves.

I was watching this new door open in my life and for once I was totally aware of it. I had made it happen. I walked over to that closed door, turned the door knob and opened the door to find out what was on the other side. What was on the other side was the wildest emotional roller coaster ride that ever existed.

So, this mystery person was real. He had an unbelievable way of expressing himself in the written word. We emailed twice and got on to an instant messenger then. His typing skills left a lot to be desired at that point, or was too nervous. The whole time I was typing I was crying tears of elation and disbelief. Finally he asked to call me. It was a Saturday about 4 in the afternoon. I gave him my number and again to my total disbelief the phone rang instaneously. With shaking hands, I picked up the phone and didn't say a word. I couldn't. All I could do was cry. Little did I know that for the next 3 weeks a majority of my time would be spent crying. All the tears that I had to hide over 27 years where about to erupt from the dam I had built up in me. He kept asking me if I was all right, and in the squeekiest voice ever, I managed to get out some kind of sound that indicated that, yes, indeed I was ok, just over come with emotion.
Finally, after about 5 minutes, I did manage to compose myself somewhat, for 30 seconds, then I began to hysterically laugh. Wow, what a great first impression, huh?

After that, the context of our conversation is pretty much lost to me. I know we talked for over a half hour and it was comfortable and comforting. It was the first step of a brand new relationship that neither of us was sure where it would go, but boy, oh boy, did it feel right, all the way down to my toes. During our conversation, I do remember him telling me that he could not get the time to come to New England until the summer, however, I was welcome to come down to Atlanta to meet him any time.

When we hung up, I just stared at the telephone in disbelief. It really happened. I just had a conversation (albeit teary and emotionally charged) with my son. My son who I didn't know. My son who is a grown man. My son, Tom.

So, within the next 24 hours, I had made the rather rash decision that I was going to Atlanta, come hell or high water and I was going there as quickly as I could get there and not break the bank. I had one saving grace in this decision process. My sister, Patti, lived in Atlanta and after speaking with her and explaining what had just happend, she insisted I come and stay with her as long as I wanted. I called Tom and asked him if this coming weekend was too soon to come. He laughed and said no. I bought a round trip ticket to Atlanta for Thursday, April 15, 1999. OK, now it was time to panic.