Discussion of any controversial topic can take at least two forms — reasoned debate or withering insult. To my shame, I have occasionally engaged in the latter. I pledge, with Christ's help, to set the insults aside. #prolife #adopteesforlife https://t.co/j3pNdZH2LO

The first face-to-face meeting between Lynette and me seems an appropriate place to bring my adoption story to a close. I'm going to carry on for a while with the blog, however. Here's why and what’s next. #adopteestories #adoptionrenunion #adopteevoices #adopteesforlife

My story, like that of most adoptees, is front-loaded with some grim chapters. Crisis. Marginalization. Death. Nonetheless, when you water with hope, joy sprouts even from desolate soil. #adopteevoices #adoptionstories #adoptionreunions #crisispregnancies https://t.co/G4Cv5DjNvX

When my biological mother returned from the home for unwed mothers, those around her either did not know what had just taken place or refused to acknowledge what had happened. Apparently, everyone wanted to forget the whole thing. Not so easy for a mother who places a child for

Pregnant at 13, delivering at 14 and all alone in the delivery room — like many pregnant teens in pre-Roe America, my biological mother was sent to a home for unwed mothers to hide her condition. It was not easy on her, but she has a wide, gritty, independent streak. She does not

Trust me, this adoption is about to grab you by the heart. Today is the day I hand off to my birth mother, Lynette. You are about to hear first-hand from one of the most caring and resilient women I have ever encountered. I love this woman and what she did for my sake. Read on.

This day was right up there with my wedding, and Mom and Dad bringing me home from the adoption home. After several months of looking, I made contact with my birth mother. Here’s how that went: #adopteestories #adopteesspeak #adoptionreunion https://t.co/1jV8L6klOr

This entry marks an important change in the Looking for Lynette blog. Until now, I've given you backstory that explains my desire to search and the steps I took to find my birth mother. From here on out, you'll see the fruits of that search. I begin with the first blood relative

I sat in my car on the shoulder of I-95, staring at the flashing hazard lights made blurry by my welling eyes. How odd it was to have tangled thoughts that Mom could not unwind for me, pain she was no longer there to soothe. But even amid the wrenching loss, I discovered reasons

My birth mother did not respond right away to my attempt to make contact with her. The interlude seems an appropriate time to tell you about my adoptive mother and father's humble roots and the sprouting of their romance. #adopteestories #adoptionreunion #Adoption #Romance

I've been paid to write since about age 17. It's old hat ... until I decide to write about myself. Kinda hate being my own subject matter. Fortunately, when it came time to pen a message to my birth mother, I found a good editor in Peach Morrison. With her help, this is what I

One of the most gratifying things about searching for my birth mother (and telling the story) is the number of folks who have shared their own adoption experiences with me. Peach Morrison is one of those people. Let me introduce you. You’re gonna admire her as much as I do.

Those who know me personally have an idea how my search turned out and how happy it has made me. I can't wait to tell you about it. I think you're going to be truly inspired. But the pursuit of anything worthwhile inevitably entails moments of doubt, moments when the thing you

For 53 years, I knew virtually nothing about my biological family. But in the span of just a few hours in February 2022, I not only learned my birth mother's name; I pieced together several branches of her family tree. I also learned of the unspeakable grief to which they were

The past few entries in my "Looking for Lynette" blog have focused on context and the backstory of the search for my biological mother. But today, it gets real: I open my DNA and adoption records to stunning discoveries that renew doubts about whether I should follow through with

Men tend to put the “crisis” in “crisis pregnancy.” They can also take it away, as my cousin and my father lovingly demonstrate. #adopteestories #crisispregnancy #adoptionreunion https://t.co/glLebBbjYa

In earlier posts about the search for my birth mother, I explained my relative indifference in finding my biological father. I might have sounded a bit holier-than-thou. Believe me, though, when I point a finger at the oversexed, callous and irresponsible, three more point back

If you've been following my story about the search for my birth mother, you probably noticed I have not written much to this point about interest in my biological father. I certainly feel no animus toward him. But I did not feel an obligation to find him, either. Here's why.

I spent several years handwringing over my decision to find my birth mother. But angst about my family's reaction proved unfounded. So it was finally time for mouth-wringing @Ancestry and @23andMe DNA tests. #adopteestories #adopteevoices #adoptionreunion #adoptionlove

I must admit I have not always been an empathetic adoptee. This was one of those times, from early adulthood, before I understood why some went looking for their biological parents. Before I understood their pain. Before I understood the #primalwound. #adopteestories