My story December 14, 2007 a little long

As long as I could remember I have always felt different, throughout my life I had pushed the subject with my mother and was always told no you were not adopted. There were lots of red flags like: I look part African American when my family all looks white, I never felt like my mom bonded with me, my little sister who I knew was bio child was very close with our mother, my father would call me the "N" word when I was a teenager (he was an abusive alcoholic), my parents had left me with family friends when I was 3 months old and went to Hawaii for 2 weeks (as a mother I know that no mother could under normal circumstances leave a newborn). I never felt like I had a race or a cultural identity but now that I am pregnant with twins it became apparent to me that I needed to know the truth for medical reasons. My adoptive father has a debilitating degenerative brain disorder and has been in a nursing home since he was 42. It seems to be hereditary since he is the 3rd generation to have a serious brain illness. I am 27 and in my heart knew I was adopted but felt that by some weird chance I wasn't now that I was about to have my 2nd and 3rd child that I had too many responsibilities to just leave my health to fate that once and for all I needed to know if I was going to be crazy in a few years. So I put a lot of pressure on my mother via email and started pressing her on all the things that didn't add up making me think I was adopted. She only defended or didn't achknowledge things and told me I wasn't adopted. I told her I was sending for test results and in 4-6 weeks would know if I was adopted, still nothing from her, I told her that I hoped she would be honest with me and that if I found out she lied I didn't see how we could continue to have a relationship. I then ordered my preadoption birth record, I didn't know for sure if one would be found, so it was 8 weeks of just checking the mail, either to get a letter saying that one didn't exist or one telling me who I was. On December 14 my husband checked the mail and there it was. My birth mother's name, father space blank, and a signature as an informant for birth mother that was my adopted mother's signature and her relationship to child listed as Aunt. My biological mother's name was one I had never even heard, I didn't know she existed, though in theory I could have been raised believing she was my aunt. So I called my adopted mother and said I know I was adopted and that Kimberly is my mother. She is reluctant to tell me anything but then she tells me a pretty crazy story. My grandmother had gotten the measels when she was 6 weeks pregnant and that caused the baby to be messed up. Kimberly was born deaf, mute, and blind and never developed beyond that of a 6 month old. She spent her life institutionalized and when she was 18 she was raped by someone that we can assume was a minority and probably a care taker at her facility. She became pregnant with me. My adoptive mother says that no one wanted her to keep me and her family shunned her for adopting me. That Kimberly carried me and then they did a cesarean and I was born. My adoptive mother said that her and my adoptive dad could have sued the home and been millionares but they chose not to to not drag me through the media. My adoptive mother said that Kimberly died a few years after I was born but that she didn't know how. The shock wore off and I was left with the realization that my mother was an invalid and my father was a rapist. I am still searching for more collaborating evidence, but so far what I have found does support this bizarre story. There is only one thing that doesn't match up, there isn't a death record for my bio mom, and I found an address matching up to her that belongs to a disability service center. I am building up courage right now to call, I'm not sure what I'm afraid of. I felt so much relief finding out I was adopted, it made my life make sense. I hope she is alive, I'd love to meet her and just hold her hand and let her know that I am alright. I feel so grateful to her, and so much sadness when I think of what she must have endured between being raped and carrying me and having me ripped from her body. My adopted mother says that Kimberly didn't feel anything, but I find it hard to believe even if she was super low functioning that she couldn't feel pain. I just want to thank her, in a way I feel like her whole life was just so I could be here and have mine. I mean you can't argue that my bio parents were destined to met, I wasn't an accidental love child by any means but the lust child of a very sick man, and my grandmother was told to abort Kimberly, and I'm sure there were those that thought I should have been aborted, but I'm here, she sacrificed what little humantiy she had, and her body to an extent so that I could be here, so that is why I chose the name my mother's sacrifice. I am still looking for the truth, I would love to hear from anyone that has a similar story and how they dealt with it. I hope to maybe someday write a book about my mothers and my life, I joke about putting my Dad away based on my DNA, hard to prove an invalid was a willing participant. I am a very well grounded spiritual person, happily married, due with my 2nd and 3rd son this April. I am new to my healing process but for me this makes me make sense, it's not my adopted mother's dirty secret, it's where I came from, not who I am. I hope someday I can do something to help others through my experience. My adoptive mother claims she was advised by the courts and doctors to never tell me, but after finding out the hard part has not been my birth story it was the betrayal and lies of my adoptive mother refusing to tell me that hurt the most. She never even had the decency to call and ask how I was doing, and has made me feel like I wanted to know so now I can deal. My adoptive mother and mines relationship had been strained for a while, but through this I have lost all the "family" that I thought I had. Please feel free to share your thoughts. Amanda (It means worthy of love, I grew up knowing that but it is one of the only thoughtful things that my adopted parents did do for me.)