I was born in November 1984. My grandmother lovingly calls me the Thanksgiving Turkey. I was born the day before Thanksgiving, but my family got the call on Thanksgiving day. My parents weren't looking to adopt, in fact they had just lost twin boys. The doctor that delivered the twins also delivered me and called and set it up for my parents. I grew up seemingly normal. My family moved around for my dad's job. We spent holidays with family, had lots of friends and I was loved. The only difference was that I was adopted. I knew I was adopted for as long as I can remember. It never seemed unusual or strange to me. When I was about 16 my mom had some medical things happen and I was taught where all the important documents were and who to call and how to get to the documents. In all these documents were my adoption records. At that time my mom also promised that when I turned 18 if I wanted she would help me find my birth mother. I didn't think much of it over the next few years. I got engaged when I was 20 and I asked my mom to let me see my records. She let me read them. It was a lot to handle so I stopped. I got married and my husband, as a surprise, took my original documents and gave my mom and his mom copies. He presented them to me and told me he would help me if I wanted. I sat in bed that morning for hours reading and re-reading the paperwork. I told I couldn't do it. I said I couldn't do it because it would hurt my mom, but I was scared of rejection. Fast forward to 2007. I am preparing for my final year of undergrad, I am living in Nashville and have a summer of nothing to do. At this point my mom has promised me that I won't hurt her feelings if I want to find my birth mother. I have had some medical questions that I am wanting to try to find an answer to. I decide that I am going to do it. Another lie to myself. I get as far as calling the Johnson county court house in Kansas and then never follow through. The fear of rejection comes again. My husband lovingly calls me a pansy. He admits that he can't understand but still tries to explain to me that I am being ridiculous. Fast forward to now. I have a friend that is preparing to have a baby and I keep thinking in a few years that is going to be me. I am scared for my unborn, uncreated child. I don't know my medical history, I don't know if down the line I could be diagnosised with something that will take me away from my child and family early. These are things I want to know. So now I am taking the leap and going to push through the feelings of possible rejection, remembering that I have family that loves me and supports me already, and I am going to work at finding my birth mother.