Alicia Keys - Send me an angel (Full version)

"Sometimes I feel like I don't belong anywhere

 It's gonna take so long for me to get somewhere

 Sometimes I feel so heavy-hearted, but I can't explain 'cause I'm so guarded



That's a lonely road to travel, and heavy load to bear

And it's a long, long way to Heaven, but I gotta get there



Can you send an angel

Can you send me an angel

To guide me



Sometimes I feel like a door with no key

And all the answers are locked away in me

But they're so hard to find, especially when I'm feelin' lost and so blind



That's a lonely road to travel, and heavy load to bear

And it's a long, long way to Heaven, but I gotta get there



Can you send an angel

Can you send me an angel

'Cause I don't wanna feel like a dove with no wings

And I don't wanna know what a heart of stone would bring



That's a lonely road to travel, and heavy load to bear

And it's a long, long way to Heaven, but I gotta get there



Can you send an angel

Can you send me an angel

Please send me an angel

Can you send me an angel

To guide me



To guide me home...

'Cause I'm feelin' so alone in this big, big world"







Alicia Keys: Send Me An Angel

Don't Quit, Take An Interlude

 Jacqueline Ellis was not my mother.

 The birth certificate that I thought belonged to me was not mine. That baby did not survive, and the death certificate hit me with that fact. I reached a new dead end, and there were two souls in that cul-de-sac: Jacqueline and her baby girl. It was time to pause. Take an interlude. Exhaustion was beginning to complete it's destination to take over my being, and it was bringing it's twin friends desperation and despair. And yet, Compassion stood guard around my heart, and tenderly cared for me. Compassion had an indomitable strength, and it held me tight.

 During this brief moment,  I begin to wish that my biological parents were dead. It wasn't anger. The deceased leave a paper trail. Every indiscretion no longer a concern, because they'd moved on from this world and left all it's cares behind. It's easier to find the dead. At this point, I longed for ease. I've heard it said that trials and tough times make you strong. They build your character. They strengthen the sagging and drooping places of your inner person. I was like, "Just leave me weak.". Then I would laugh knowing that  it wasn't going to work out that way.
  In the beginning, Dee told me that if she found my bio parents, then they would have to legally consent (notarized paperwork) to contact with me before anything further about them was revealed. I was in a game of keep-away, and I was the monkey-in-the-middle. It was the kind of game where you're too short to grab the object that's being tossed over your head. And, you're not quick enough to seize the item as it's being stretched out of reach, and then being tossed past you as you're being held at arm's length. Dee relayed to me that if my parents were found to be deceased, then all of their information would be released to me, and that I would be connected with their next of kin. I was thinking, "Point me to the obituaries. I'm tired of this.". She also let me know that I would be charged a fee if either one of them were deceased, and I wanted to obtain their information. Wait. What?! The service of a confidential intermediary was free unless my bio parents were dead, and then I had to pay them for the information (mainly the death certificate). I'd now hitched a ride from the cul-de-sac by way of the "emotional turmoil bus". It was time to use these DNA results to figure this thing out for sure....without Dee, and without her knowing...

Side Dig

I refused to rest in deflation. After I wrote a letter to my "legal father", I actively waited for my DNA results. It wasn't easy to to travel on. I cried quite a bit, and I began to wonder if finding my biological family was impossible. It was a huge disappointment, to say the least. Anxiety was beginning to win a little. I was constantly trying to soothe my mind with "Be anxious for nothing... but through prayer and supplication, make your requests known to God...". (I was trying to soothe my mind, but my soul could not rest.) And yet, "faith without works is dead". It was a delicate balance. I kept working.
 I started a free trial with Ancestry. This led me on a bit of a detour. It was a "side dig", if you will. I began to use their "birth" search engine to look up African-American women that had a baby girl in NC matching the date and place of my birth. I found Jacqueline Ellis
 She seemed to be around the right age of my birth mother. She'd had a baby on my birthday. The baby's name was not listed. That looked interesting, and highly likely to be a child that had been adopted. I was hooked. I spent long nights tracing Jacqueline and her family. I even found where her name had been spelled differently on two of her children's birth certificates (including the one that I thought was me). Clerical errors happen, or a person alters their name so that they can't be found. I was intrigued. Hours turned into days, and the days turned into weeks. It all seemed to pass by without something to grasp onto. My dear husband would beckon me to come up for air. I'd made a vow not to neglect my precious and existing family. Some days I was in a limbo between two worlds, two different time frames. My prayers mostly consisted of one word: help.
   I searched through Jacqueline's family for about two weeks. Just as my senses had reached the height of nearing explosion, I found out that Jacqueline was deceased. I wanted to throw up. I felt that I'd possibly found my birth mother, and she was dead. My roller coaster ride was going down a hill. I grew numb in an instant. But, I was determined to move forward. She was a new lead in my search, and I wanted to rule her in or out. I needed solid facts about whether she was my birth mother or not. And, just as I was about to begin contacting her family on Facebook, my little roller car hit a sharp curve and did an upward trek... my DNA results were in!!!...

Missing Links and Important Clues

I couldn't quite accept this closed door. My "legal father" was not responding to phone calls or messages. It was painful. I'd come so close to some answers. I had a fragment of the story, a small darkened piece of history. I tried desperately to see things from his perspective. But, without contact, my view was limited.  However, I had to count my blessings in what I did discover. I'd found out that my birth mother was married to another man who was NOT my biological father. That mattered. I found out that this "legal father" signed my adoption papers. That mattered. I found out that he had remarried, and that mattered. I have to say that I couldn't touch the depths of my pain and anger over the idea of another man signing me away into foster care. I grieved for the baby that I was. So helpless. I fought hard to keep my mind out the space of wondering what type of person gives away a child that is not his. My life, identity, and medical history matter. I felt like I was in a crap storm of human maneuverings and corrective attempts to poor decisions. I was and still am a life in the midst of it all. I matter.
 What no one seemed to have a clue about was my sister. My non-identifying information did not mention her. To my knowledge, my 'legal father" did not mention her. Was she his daughter? Did she exist? In the history of adoption, caseworkers have often made up stories and relatives to "doctor up" the family history of the child being adopted. Since Dee seemed to have no knowledge of my sister, I was wondering if she was "made up". I called my mom and told her about my recent discovery. She said that she was told that my birth mother was single and raising my disabled sister. My mother and I had some differing information at this point. The adoption papers that my mother had never mentioned my birth mother's marital status. My non-identifying information listed her marital status as separated. The papers that my mother possessed gave my birth mother's age at the time of my birth. My particular packet of paperwork did not give her age. When I asked Dee about my sister and the other mismatched information, she said that nothing was ever mentioned of a sister. Dee even questioned me on where I'd gotten that information. As I continued to mention missing information and concerns, Dee became quiet about questions concerning "missing" or "varying" information. My hope was sinking, and my frustration was rising. At this point, my "legal father" was my only "found" link to my beginnings. So in a last ditch effort, I wrote him a letter:

"Hello Sir,
 I really don't know how to start a letter like this. First, let me say "thank you" for responding to the intermediary. I truly appreciated hearing from you through her. At this time, I just want to express my heart..."

Dee, my confidential intermediary, said that it never occurred to her to ask the questions that I was asking. She felt that all contact was lost after that first and last phone call with my "legal father". She never sent my letter. He never saw it...

Toothpicks for an Excavation

 My non-identifying information was quite limited. I wasn't given any medical history. That remained buried.  I was given court information about termination of parental rights. All forms had my name and my birth parents' names redacted. I also received a general physical description on my birth mother, and an even more limited physical description on my birth father. Tall. slim, and Black(African American). That's it. Yep, that about narrows it down. I combed through my entire packet. I hung onto every word trying to suck it dry of some form of a clue. It was exhausting. I cried. I wailed. I'd hit a wall, or so it seemed. What I was quick to learn from my dear friend Lorena, is that EVERYTHING mattered. I would become the detective that I never knew that I was. Some days it [the search] was invigorating. I felt accomplished. It seemed like I could take on anything. Other days, it left me drained and despondent.

  After I settled from the shock, I was extremely excited that my 'legal father" had been located.  I wanted to know what he remembered. Was he willing to cooperate with the intermediary? Was this a painful memory for him? Did he hate my birth mother? Was he sure that I was not his daughter? I had questions rolling out in wheel barrels! I contacted Dee by phone and by email. I always used every channel of communication that I could with her. I tried to be reasonable and thoughtful about her workload, and I tried to space out my inquiries as to give her time in working with others and receiving information about my case. On April 3rd, Dee informed me that she spoke with my "legal father". I was filled with the type of excitement that made me want to wet my pants...

 First off, he'd remarried. I was told that his wife listened in on this particular phone call. She was described as being quite vocal and full of inquiries. Dee said that my "legal father" said that he did not remember much from all those years ago. Let me interject right here. How in the bleepity bleep do you not remember much about a situation involving yourself and the adoption of a child? Really?! Let's move on... He said that he was not sure of my birth mother's location. I was told that he remembers her as having three brothers, and that her family was from Charlotte, NC. Dee believed that due to his wife's presence, he answered very few questions.  Things were almost made to seem like he didn't remember that part of his life at all. He wished me well through Dee, and said that she could call back if I had other questions. According to Dee, she failed to ask some of the important questions that I asked above. My mind was reeling. He was the first contact that had been made that held information about my beginnings. When she called back, he never answered the phone again...

Faint Marks to Dark Scribbles

On March 14, 2016, I got a long awaited email from Dee. My non-identifying information had been scanned and sent to me. I requested a hard copy as well. I wanted my proof in hand. The intermediary's job is also to take the identifying information and try and contact the biological parents. If located, the biological parents are given an opportunity to consent to contact with the adoptee. Here is the email from Dee:

I have attached your adoption summary.  The is very limited information on your history in your adoption file.  Based on the law, I am not have to provide any identifying information for your birth family until they consent based on the Confidential Intermediary law. 

I have begun the research for your birth parents, however I have not been successful in locating any information for your birth mother or father based on information listed in the file.  I was able to find information for your legal father (he was married to your birth mother) at the time of your birth.  I have left a message for him to contact me.  My hope is that he may have some information or know someone that can help me make contact with her.

I will put the adoption summary information in the mail today and keep you abreast of any findings.


Yep. My birth mother was married. She was married at the time of my birth. She was not married to my biological father. I was thrown for a loop. Now I should have known to be open and expect the unexpected, however this was a bit different from the short story that I'd been told over the years. More questions were beginning to rise. Over the phone, Dee said that in order to minimize confusion, my birth mother's husband was being called my "legal father". Well of course! How could this be more confusing!(Rock with me on this blog. Obviously I am an emotionally expressive writer... and person.) My head was spinning. What twisted triangle was this?! Blank spaces were now being colored in, and the markings were not pretty...