My Adoption Story, A Miracle from God

by Doni Hall

Of course I don't remember, I was a baby!
But I was told numerous times, I was adopted.

That story of the stork carrying me to my mother and father was a part of my upbringing. I even have an oil painting of it made by a friend of my mothers'... a  purple stork carrying a baby through the air, but the hair of the baby was left undone until I arrived. As soon as that dear friend of my mother's heard, she painted the baby's hair dark brown.

The story I was told is that their phone rang and announced that my new mother and father could come pick me up, that I had arrived and was ready! Well, they couldn't move fast enough. After they arrived home with me, my father went next door and knocked on the neighbor's door. "Come and see what we have!".
"Naw, it's probably just a puppy" the crotchety neighbor said.
"Just come see!" my father replied. So the older neighbors went to see.

Stories like that were fascinating to me...I couldn't hear enough! As a small child I remember always asking to hear more. I had always been told I was adopted, so the word was always a part of me.

Eight months after my birth, my mother and father had a baby themselves...my sister was only 8 months younger than me. We were so close in age people thought we were twins. When asked, my mother would smile and say, "no, one is adopted". Well, they would smile and pat my sister on her blond head, and walk away. Remember, I'm dark headed and looked very much like my mother and father!

I can remember when the realization of the term 'adopted' truly registered in my young mind. I had a DIFFERENT mother and father than those who were raising me. More questions came to my mind. Who was my mother? Who was my father? Could 'so-and-so' be my real mother? What about ____? No, they were not my real mother....or my Birth mother as I learned to refer to her.
The mystery of my life had begun, and it wasn't to end any time soon.
And it kept me in its grip.

I have to say that my story is a miracle. So many things over the years occurred where I see God's hand...where He kept me and where He blessed me.

1964 was a year that started out cold and snowy where I was born. The day I was born it snowed.
It was also a year that was during the time where an unwed mother was a serious social no-no.

My younger years were full of playtime with my sister, and later a brother. Our home was a typical house in a neighborhood and my schooling was normal. But my mind and my heart thought countless times of an unknown girl who was my mother. I was told her age was 18 and that my birth father was a year older. I only knew that she couldn't keep me. Still, I wanted to know more.

The questions multiplied as I grew older. Whenever I heard the word adoption, I was all ears. In 7th grade I did my research paper on Adoption and found out that there were different types of adoption...Private as well as Open, etc.
More questions....mine was a private adoption through an agency in our large city.
I figured that I'd never be able to find my 'real' parents until I was older and could do so myself.

My first year of High School brought about a number of changes. One was my hearing the Gospel!
God, before the earth was made, chose me to be one of His ADOPTED children! I'd never seen that in the Bible before, but there it was.
I saw that those He loved and chose before the foundation of the world, He gave to Christ.
"For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God. For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. The spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit that we are the children of God."
Romans 8:14-16

I graduated from High School in 1982, went to college and got a degree in 1986, immediately got married and the next year had my first son. Out on my own, I still sought to find answers to my questions. Would I EVER find my birth mother???

By the time I had my second son, the questions were overwhelming me. Here I was with two wonderful sons... and I wanted to know if they looked like me, did they look like my birth mother or birth father??
In fact, who did I look like myself?? Would I ever know?

In 1993 I had been reading in my Bible about those long passages of names...lineages..and how important the lineage of Jesus was to the Chosen people of Israel...and US. I couldn't help but pray about it and asked God to let me know my heritage.

Finally in June, I had come to a point where I asked God to take the overwhelming desire to know my birth parents away from me and to not let me think and obsess about it again unless it was time.
HE DID.
For six months.

In January of 1994 my sons and I had gone away for the holidays.
Here's the miracle:
I had gone to another part of the house to be by myself when out of the blue, those thoughts hit me again...for the first time in months. Immediately I prayed and said, "God, I asked You to take these thoughts and feelings away from me until it was time..." As I turned around, a voice as clear as could be spoke to me in my right ear, "IT'S TIME"!! His voice and words brought me joy and tears. Could it really be? No more question about it now...IT WAS TIME!!!!

I looked up the phone number for the adoption agency. It was the weekend and a holiday, so I had to wait to call. It was the longest weekend of my life.
I drove back to my own home on Monday, waited until the holiday was over, and then placed a phone call to the agency about 9 or so in the morning. A lady answered the phone. Coming up with words at this point was hard. I told her my name and asked her if I could find out any kind of information at all, or even send some info just in case someone ever called looking for me.

She was so sweet. She told me that all she could do was look and see if my file contained a 'contact', basically if anyone had called within the past year looking. She would look and let me know. IF no one had made contact in the past year, she would have to look on their micro-film files and get back to me later. So I was put on hold on the phone while she went to look up my file.

You know when you are hoping, expecting something big, and you try to talk yourself out of it?? I was trying to think of the next question I would have when she told me that there had been no contact...I was still on hold thinking and trying not to be emotional when she came back on the phone.

The next words she spoke changed my life.

"Doni, are you sitting down?" "yes I replied" shaking all over......
"Your Birth mother called here three weeks ago and I was the one who spoke with her!"
I asked her, "Please, please, can you call her and let her know I've made contact too?? I want to meet her if she wants to meet me too....what do I do next???"

I couldn't believe it! Praise you Lord! You did it!

Over the next week she did call her back and my birth mother wanted to meet me too. We each had to fax signed forms to the agency and each met with a counselor. A week of JOY... The counselors set up our meeting each other..first over the phone with my birth mother calling me at a certain time.

Oh what precious hours we had talking over the phone and getting to know each other. I'll never forget it....all the questions I'd wondered about were answered.

And then we met in person. My birth mother Connie Kay drove to where I lived and arrived in the afternoon...
I remember peeking out the front door window at this pretty lady walking up to my door. Was that REALLY my very own mother????

I opened the door and we just hugged tight...for a long time....and we cried and cried. Oh what bliss to be held by my very own mother for the first time, and loved instantly just because mothers love their children. You know what...she had not been told that I was a girl when I was born, they just took me away. But she had a feeling that I was a girl all that time. I was 30 years old that special January.
　
I have her voice...in fact I sound just like her! I look just like her too. It was a picture she brought with her of herself at 18 that cemented it for me. I looked at the picture of her and KNEW...because I looked just like her at that age! No doubt about it.

She and I were very close for the rest of her life. There were numerous times I would pick up the phone to call her and it would ring in my hand...it was her!
Sometimes we'd just talk for hours, sometimes for just a few minutes, but it seemed like we always had to cry (we were both instantly teary when we discussed the miracle). And even though we didn't visit in person a lot, I'd have to say that we were very close. She would call me on my birthday and sing "Happy Birthday" to me in tears... and it was so special to me. She got to see my sons, her grandsons grow up.

My first card from my birth mother, just a few days after meeting for the first time.

We shared so many of the same interests.  Sewing, embroidery, crochet, etc.  Her lovely stitchworks are some of my most prized possessions.  We loved the same televisions shows and had to catch up on so many things.  She told me stories of her youth and she told me about my birth father.  I never got to meet him as he had passed away before we found each other, but someday I will see him.

This precious gift of KNOWING has made my life full and complete.  I tell people it's like I was raised on the second floor of a house that had locked doors.  I could only know the people on the second floor, not those on the first.  But I knew people I belonged to were on that first floor.  No glimpses of them were allowed and no information was given.  But when God unlocked the doors, He gave me the freedom to know, to have the answers to my questions, and the love of my mother.

I will always be grateful to my adoptive parents for raising me, taking care of me, and for the sacrifices they gave.  God placed me with them for a purpose and that purpose was fulfilled.  My love for them was never diminished just because I found my birth mother and had a relationship with her.  It's like when you have more than one child...your heart just opens up and loves more and more as each is added.  You don't loose love for the first one just because you had a second... 

The care I was shown while being raised was obvious to my birth mother as well as my birth father's families.  Each side have asked me to tell my parents that they were so thankful to them for raising me when they couldn't. 

Looking back now, at age 48, I wouldn't change a thing.  I was given a gift and I wouldn't so anything to make things different.  My birth mother was grieving over loosing me, and I was grieving not knowing her.  God healed us both with this precious gift.

My sweet birth mother passed away two years ago of cancer. I was with her for the last two weeks, staying by her side the whole time. She passed away looking at me and I will always cherish that fact. She also believed in Jesus Christ for her salvation, and that is my comfort.

"But thou art He that took me out of the womb; thou didst make me hope when I was upon my mother's breasts.
I was cast upon thee from the womb; thou art my God from my mother's belly" Psalm 22:9-10

"How great are your works O Lord, how profound your thoughts!" Psalm 92:5

"I will sing unto the Lord because He hath dealt bountifully with me." Psalm 13:6

I may not be famous, and I may not ever do anything to solve the problems in this world, but there are a few things I do know:
* Jesus really does save us from our sin which is the whole reason He died on the cross, and the faith to believe that is a gift from God. No one can change that nor earn their way to Heaven with the things they do.
* God is still doing miracles, and God bringing my birth mother into my life is one of them. Not a soul on this earth can change that or turn it into something wrong or bad however hard they might try.

My prayer is that you will be blessed by my story.  If you have any questions you may contact me via my email address (located on my profile on the right sidebar) and I will get back to you as I'm able.


Doni

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