You haven't changed a bit

I'm writing this to keep my thoughts fresh, whether or when I actually post this remains to be seen, but I'll know when I know.

I liked my bio mom. She and her family seem to be my kind of people, which feels good to know, that I come from good people. I asked her if her parents were nice to which she replied an enthusiastic yes, they were great and her mom was especially good and kind, someone whom everyone adored. This makes me feel very good for some reason. Maybe because I'd imagined they were harsh, religious monsters who'd have been ashamed of her and resented me, or both. I was wrong.

They didn't know about me, but they could have been told. They would have helped my bio mom, in fact they did, just without knowledge of what was really going on.

My nerves pre meeting were extremely hard to control. As I sat and waited for her to appear in the lobby I called my son to just hear a normal voice, to assure myself I'd not entered the twilight zone. I pictured myself in my favorite ocean spot as I often do when I need to calm myself, took deep breaths, and focused.

Our experience of first sight was different for each of us. I had the luxury of having seen ahead what she looked like, having seen what her family looks like, their names and ages whereas she knew little of me and only knew what I'd looked like as an infant. I've changed a bit since then.

When I got up to walk over to greet her my sensitivity to her feelings kicked back in and my nerves dissolved. I knew though that wasn't the case for her so I said a warm hello and asked if she'd like to sit for a minute before we went to my car, that I'd been feeling nervous and wouldn't mind just sitting for a second to calm down. Her face appeared grateful as she said she was feeling very nervous as well.

We sat for a time kind of consoling each other, looking at each others faces for resemblances, me trying to see myself, her trying to see anyone and everyone.
I can see that I will look like her when I'm older, she can't see much familiar in me except for maybe her father's side of the family.

We had a great day and were together for 8 straight hours that really flew by. She likes to talk, which was good because I wanted to hear her talk. I talked too and this was when she was able to see herself in me, specifically how I look at family, the things I think are important to do and not do. This also made me feel good.

She was very open with me about what happened, something I imagine most adopted people wonder about. This made me feel good too.

I was supposed to call when I got home, we'd had a couple of beers over the day and she was concerned about me driving. When I arrived home I got caught up in telling my husband about the day and kind of forgot about calling. The words she and I had spoken as I was leaving seemed sort of final, unless she decided to be in touch at some point in the future, so I wasn't even so sure I was still supposed to call. As my husband and I talked, the phone rang and it was her, checking to see if I was home, reminding me I'd said I'd let her know.

Before I went to bed, I sent one last email to thank her for taking the time to, and for going through the trouble of, meeting me, to apologize for not having called, that I'd enjoyed our visit. To tell her to take care.

When I woke up this morning I thought to myself, well, it's happened. You've met your biological mother, you're still special, and you haven't changed a bit.