I had thought I learned the true meaning of what it was to be patient. How wrong I was! The process of finding my birth parents taught me I still have work to do on the art of truly being patient.
So here is how the process works. I made the decision, talked to my loved ones and contacted the adoption agency who told me to contact the court my adoption was finalized in.
After getting the information from my mother, I realized the county my adoption was finalized in was in my hometown. I just knew this was going to be a piece of cake. I kicked my shoes off, and settled for a day where I could call and get my information. The process wouldn’t take more than a day, and after all that, I would have the answers I had been looking for all this time.
Google became my best friend. All the information I needed was right at my disposal. The only problem was I didn’t know what phone number to call. I had no information about what court my adoption was finalized in. And that’s where everything came to a standstill.
One phone call turned into 10 as I was constantly being transferred to different divisions, only for them to tell me that I needed to call another court. I went from confident, calm and relaxed, to irritated and anxious in a matter of seconds. I was getting told different information by different people, and I felt like it was going nowhere.
My tone went from polite and sweet, to snappy with a high dose of attitude. Those poor receptionists had no idea that they were dealing with someone who was completely at the end of her rope!
After a couple hours of this, I dropped my head in my hands in exhaustion. The tears started to make trails down my face and neck, and that’s where it happened: I let the questions of my heart take over in my mind. All this time with the process going so smoothly, I never gave the deep questions of my heart a second thought so they wouldn’t damper my hope and enthusiasm.
But when the questions began to flood in my mind like a tidal wave, I didn’t have the strength to contain it any longer. Why was I the one doing this? She told me she wanted to meet me; did she change her mind? It’s not like I’m five; they had 22 years to try to get in contact with me. They were the adults, so why am I showing that I care that much to do something that they didn’t even want to do? Yeah, I know. I ask the questions with the hurtful answers. That was all it took to give up and throw in the towel.
Thankfully, I have a wonderful support system around me. A very close person to me who was holding my hand throughout this quest told me that I couldn’t give up. I had come too far to let one thing stop me now. Somehow, my hope returned and it was stronger than ever. It didn’t matter that I was the one doing this entire thing. I was the one who wanted the answers, and I wasn’t going to stop until I got them. My friend was right. I had come too far to stop now. Besides, giving up is not something I do and I was not going to let this change who I am.
I sat back down and put my “Let’s-get-down-to-business” cap on. I wiped away the tears, and called the last court. I had already been through the 7th circuit court, the friend of the court and all their divisions.
The lady that spoke to me told me to call the probate court. I don’t know if it was my nerves, but when I asked her what district it was, even I had to laugh at myself. I took a deep breath, exhaled and dialed the number. While I was waiting for someone at the desk to answer, I began my little speech in my head.
“Hello, my name is Jaleesa Pouncil. I am trying to find my birth parents…”
When I finally got an answer, I gave her my well-rehearsed and now memorized speech. She wasted no time in letting me know she didn’t know anything, since they didn’t handle adoption. There it was again. All the steam came out as I hung up in her face. My friend gently told me to call again after I regained my composure.
After 15 minutes, I called again and this time, a kind (and obviously more experienced) woman named Polly told me everything I needed to know. I heard the angels sing and the light shone at the end of the tunnel. Finally!
But, there was still a long way to go. I had to fill out a form asking for identifying information about my adoption process. With this, I would find out the names and last known addresses of my birth parents, as well as if I had biological siblings. I would even get to find out what my original name was.
This was it. After the form was completed (given to me by the 7th circuit court, go figure), I would send it to the family division and they would take it from there. It was really happening!
But don’t think it was over like I did. It was only the beginning of an entirely new process. I would have to wait on the division to process the form, which could take a while. Then, they would have to contact me and set me up with a caseworker.
After that, I would get in contact with my birth parents through them. This could get tricky, as names could have been changed, they could have moved out of the state or anything else. Anything could have happened in two decades. It was not going to be the easy-breezy adventure I had thought. But this time around, I had more patience to work with.
