The Declassified Adoptee

My husband pulled the car over so that I could throw-up along side the road. "Why in the world did you stop the car in front of someones driveway?"  I demanded to know though I was in no shape to really be preoccupied with such a question. "I don't know" he replied, realizing there was no right answer to my question. I closed the door to the car and we continued on the path to his mother's house to drop our son off for the night.  I was sick, I was nauseous: I was in labor. ------ After the birth of my first child I accepted the possibility that I might not ever be pregnant again due to fertility troubles.  16 months later, another pregnancy test came back positive; a pregnancy that I lost shortly after completing my seventh week. I accepted this loss, but my adoptive mother was very upset. She told me that I would be sad each year on my would-have-been due date.  I never knew that she had been sad each year on her would-have-been due da

I watched my husband transform our home office from a fire engine red, selected by the previous owner, to a soft yellow.  I thought a mellow color would provide a peaceful environment for my crafts and other projects. I hate painting; he doesn't even ask me to do it anymore because I make a mess and complain the whole time. At this point, he was bored. "Let's go get wings and drinks," he suggested. "Ok," I said, as I slid down from my perch on our over sized desk where I was dutifully overseeing the painting.  Gotta go be responsible first .  Due to my PCOS, we had been trying to conceive for 18 months with no luck.  I would take a pregnancy test before going out for sips of my favorite wine, just in case.  Each negative test was a reminder, no biological relatives for you--not ancestors, not descendants. Imagine my shock then when; Positive. I checked the pictures on the box three times to make sure I read correctly.  I used a second test. Po