Lost and Found Family

Lost and Found Family

December 2017

“Slow down, Chloe, the family doesn’t need to lose both of you in one day.” This was the last thought I had as I was entering the on ramp trying to beat the car that was clearly speeding in the lane I needed to merge into. I took my foot off the gas as I shoulder checked to watch the white car zoom past and BAM!!! I was rear ended with such force that I only heard the hit after I had slammed my head into the headrest hard enough that I was unable to talk for a few minutes when the other driver came to speak with me. 

I survived the car crash, although I still struggle with long term concussion effects and pain in my neck and right shoulder. My cousin James, who is the person I was referring to while I thought of the potential loss being faced by our family, was not so lucky. He died a short time later from major complications from a respiratory illness. We were both 42 at the time of my crash and his death. 

James and I were born four days apart, and much to the chagrin of my father’s family I was born first. “It would have been so nice to have a boy as the first grandchild!” they would say to or around me. Repeatedly. Throughout my entire childhood. It was well known to me that I was a disappointment, whether that was their intention or not. As a result, I always felt that I was not as valuable as James was, because I was a girl. This is but one of many things that have contributed to the lifelong feeling that I have to prove myself, that I am never good enough as I am. When James died, I was in the throes of major concussion symptoms. I felt intense survivor’s guilt and wished I had died in his place. 

Spring 2020

“EWWWWW this is gross!!!” I squealed as I spit into the tube, attempting to get more saliva into my mouth in order to fill the little vial that we would be mailing back to 23andMe. “Come on honey, more spit!!! We have to fill them up!” 

My child was gagging slightly as it attempted to get enough spit in its mouth to hit the fill line. “Don’t get any hork in there!” I laughed. We both started giggling uncontrollably as we finished our goopy task. I placed the tubes in the envelope and started to fill in the forms. We were doing genetic testing for medical purposes, but there was a box to select if you wanted to let your results be part of the database so that people could find you if you were related. Curiosity got the best of me, so I enabled that feature for myself and for Ruby. The main thing was that we discovered whether or not Ruby had another rare disease, and the fastest way to do that was to pay for the medical testing offered through this genealogy company. I was happy to be able to do this through the mail and not have to go to a hospital or lab, as covid was in its infancy and we were locked down. Ruby had recently started an immunosuppressant, so we were terrified of this evolving global pandemic. Yep. I put my child on an immunosuppresant during a global pandemic. Mother of the Year. 

A few weeks later we received the results and although I was relieved that Ruby didn’t have the suspected rare mitochondrial disease, I was also frustrated that we still didn’t know what was causing the health issues that had plagued my child since day one. I was frustrated, exhausted, and afraid. Another dead end. UGH. At this point, life felt like nothing but dead ends. I was years in to phsyio and concussion therapy that had not helped the lingering effects of the car accident. I was in constant pain and the online teaching was flaring my concussion related vertigo and headaches terribly. Not only was my child struggling with physical health problems, its mental health was worse than it had ever been despite years of psychological interventions. I had convinced myself that the thoughts of suicide I was experiencing were normal following repeat concussions and I was trying to manage them on my own, but it was becoming harder and harder to keep them at bay. 

DING! Hmmm, what’s this?! A message from 23andMe?! Someone who is confirmed to be my first cousin?! I hesitated while I did the family math in my head, wondering how many people could be this person’s potential parent?! “Ohhh this could be juicy… do I want to know? Hells yeah I want to know! A family secret, eh???” I thought. Within the next five minutes I had answered the email, found out that we grew up in the same city, that coincidentally his adoptive mother was from the same small town that my mother was from, and found him on social media. He told me that he had already found his birth mother, so he was looking for his birth father. 

While we spoke and gave each other run downs of our lives and families, I felt an instant connection with this stranger. There was something familiar about his humour and lighthearted banter. We had grown up near one another and we are very close in age, but we were in different school systems so we never crossed paths. Such a strange feeling, bonding so fast with a stranger, but we became friends very quickly. Jake is brilliant; an entrepreneur who has started companies and works in the tech sector. His story of family discovery is his to tell, so I will not elaborate on that, but it did eventually turn out that one of my uncles is his birth father. 

During the dark time of covid lockdowns and isolation, it was surreal to find a new family member, much less a first cousin with a name that starts with J when I had just lost one a couple of years back. I am an odd duck, an introvert who has always  had difficulty connecting with people. Nobody believes that, but it’s true. I’ve been lucky enough to have very extroverted friends “adopt” me, and I am good at acting like an extrovert when I need to, but I find it painful and exhausting and it takes me a long time to recharge my social battery. It is not like me to connect so quickly with a stranger. 

Connecting with Jake has meant so very much to me. Over the first couple of years, we messaged from time to time and I would ask how his process of connecting with his birth mom was going. I was finally able to meet him in person last year and one of the first thoughts I had upon seeing him was that I was glad I had survived the car crash and the suicidal ideation that had resulted from my concussion. Life is full  of twists and turns and interrobang moments, and I am glad that I stayed around long enough to meet this cousin of mine. He has been a gift from the universe, someone who has supported me and asked tough questions about the various issues in my life. We do not agree on everything, but we both enjoy productive discourse and have many conversations that I greatly enjoy. I may have gone 44 years without meeting him, but I look forward to knowing him for at least 44 more.