What I did know was that I was a 29 year old, born in La Mesa, California. I had
                        been married for just 7 1/2 years, so far, and I had two beautiful children. One boy
                        named Jordan who was 6 years old and a baby daughter, Cassandra, who was 4
                        months old. What I thought I knew was that I had two parents who were 76 years
                        old and that I was some kind of miracle baby, since I had been born when they
                        were 47 and they hadn't had any kind of help. I had had a one in 4 chance of
                        being Down Syndrome . . . So I thought . . . I was the second generation on my
                        father's side to have been born in America . . . So I thought . . . I was Russian,
                        Polish, English, Irish, Scotch, Belgain and Portugese . . . So I thought . . . But
                        what I thought, just wasn't so . . . Little did I know the truth . . .

                        Then in March on 1998, my parents took a trip to Las Vegas and asked my
                        husband and I to house-sit for them and take care of the pets. This I did willingly.
                                         But while they were gone, my brother's girlfriend (who's a lawyer) came by and
                        dropped off a black, three-ring binder and said that it was my parents' Living Trust.
                        Well, I left it on the table for awhile, but my curiosity got the better of me,
                        because my husband and I will eventually need one ourselves! So I took a look. The
                        first section was all about what a Living Trust was. Then, it came to my parents'
                        Living Trust. In the second paragraph was my name and it listed me as an Adult
                        Adopted Child. Now, it wasn't as if I had never thought about the possibility, but
                        from the time I was ten and asked about it, they always told me the same thing . .
                        . "Oh, no, honey, you're not adopted." Even when I had asked at the age of 20, they
                        still told me the same thing. So to read this in black and white, I was shocked, and
                        was hit with a headache that lasted for 4 hours. As soon as my parents had come
                        back from their trip, I told them that I had taken a look at the Living Trust, and
                        that it had listed me as an Adpoted child . . . Was it? Well, there was silence for a
                        moment, and then, they finally told me the trust . . . I was . . . I wasn't upset or
                        hurt, and realized that, for me, there were definite advantages with learning about
                        the adoption now and not earlier. Since I was an adult, I was better able to
                        understand why my birthmother would have wanted to give me up. I didn't have to
                        deal with any abandonment issues. I was more stable that I would have been as a
                        teenager, and I had the resources to conduct a search if I wanted. Which I wanted
                        to do! My parents swear that they told me I was adopted when I was about 6-8
                        years old and I would have none of it. I got every upset and that I refused to
                        believe it and I never wanted to hear about it again. I have no memory of that, but
                        my parents have no reason to make it up. But I do remember one time my nephew
                        telling me that I was adopted and that I got hysterical, so it is possible. But they
                        said that was the reason they kept lying to me. But either way, I'm happy. They
                        raised me and will always be my parents, but now I have so many more family
                        members and I'm discovering a whole new world where nothing existed before. But
                        as a side note, my father got upset with my brother's girlfriend for putting the
                        adopted child part in their Living Trust since he didn't tell her to do that. He let
                        her have it. I can't be mad because I discovered a part of my life that I needed to
                        know about . . .

                        When it came to finding my birthmother, I just didn't know where to start. I didn't
                        have a name or anything . . . Just the date of my birth and where I was born. I
                        was going crazy the first couple of days. So, just for curiosity, I got on the net to
                        see what kind of resources were available. It was then that I a woman living in my
                        city that found other people, including adoptees and birthparents! I called
                        immediately and got the woman's husband. it turned out that she was going in for
                        surgery and wouldn't be able to help me for a month, but mentioned that she had
                        a friend who did the same thing. So I took this other woman's number, who also
                        lived  in the same city, and called. We talked and by the end of the week, I had my
                        birth- mother's maiden name! She had also found two possible women who it could
                        be, though I was sure it was the younger of the two. Perhaps it was just intuition .
                        . . But I needed more information, so I finally asked my mother for the adoption
                        papers. I didn't think it would really have her name on it, and on the adoption
                        papers, themselves, her name wasn't there . . . but among the papers, there was a
                        signed Infant Release form! She had signed it! I had her name!! And I had been
                        right about it being the younger woman! The woman found my birthmother's
                        address and phone number that night. She ran through with me what to say and
                        what not to say, when I made my call. I was so nervous that I didn't sleep well, and
                        the next day when I picked up the phone and dialed, my heart was in my throat.
                        Will she know who I am? Will she want to hear from me?  I kept wondering. The
                        phone rang once, then twice. I waited and tried to stay calm. Then a woman
                        answered. I asked to speak with her, and I asked if my birthdate meant anything to
                        her or "Baby (her maiden name)". She said yes, and asked if I was her. I said yes
                        and we just started talking, and kept talking for 4 hours! And each time after that,
                        it was always like we were old friends. Though we have been talking on the phone
                        together for months now, we were unable to meet for one reason or another . . . at
                        least until October 23, 1998. And it was a wonderful visit. I also was able to meet
                        the friend that drove her to the hospital to have me. It was an incredible three-four
                        hours and this is only the first of many visits to come!

                                          On October 13th, 1998, I also started looking for my birthfather. My birthmother
                        had given me his name a few days before, but after contacting the woman who
                        had helped me find my birthmother, she said she needed more to go on to find
                        him and that it wouldn't be easy. So I asked her if she thought it would be okay if
                        I got a few phone numbers off the internet and made some calls to see if i could
                        find him that way. It was a long shot, but she said if I approached it right that it
                        would be a great idea. So, quickly I ran through what I was planning on saying. "Hi,
                        my name is Krystina Stressman. I'm doing some research and I'm looking for a ***
                        ****** who was a marine stationed in San Diego county at the end of 1968." She
                        thought it sounded wonderful, so I began making calls. On my third call, where I
                        actually reached a person, I got a man on the phone who told me that it wasn't
                        him that I was looking for, but could be his son. I was shocked. I asked how I
                        could reach him, but instead I left my name and number to be forwarded. It was
                        funny, because talking with this man was like talking with my dad. They seemed
                        a lot alike in how they protect information from people they don't know! :o) As I
                        hung up the  phone, I thought to myself, "It can't be him. That would be just too
                        easy." So I made a few more calls and then gave up for the day. The following
                        morning to my surprise, he called me and it turned out that he was indeed my
                        birthfather! I was so excited. We talked for about an hour and already he's sent
                        me one letter and I've called him once. I have a letter going out shortly to him
                        with photos of my family. Though we won't be able to meet until next year because
                        he lives so far away, we are both looking forward to that meeting and staying in
                        touch until then.
 

                        Between my birthmother and birthfather, I am one of 11 children. As my birthfather
                        said, "You have a whole extended family you don't know about yet . . ." I am
                        looking forward to finding out. This has been the most incredible year for me. And
                        though, I think my parents didn't plan on me finding out about the adoption until
                        after they  had passed away, they are both very happy for me and have been very
                        supportive. I am lucky to have such great parents . . . and that's what they will
                        always be. THEY are my mom and dad because they raised me, but it's nice to
                        know that I have other people out there who love me just for me, because I am a
                        part of them. But they will never take the place of my mom and dad, however, they
                        will be good friends I think . . . Friends that will always be close to my heart for
                        giving me life and now for giving me the chance to know them . . .
 

                        My birthparents' names have been omitted from this to protect their privacy.
 
 

                                                                                        Krystina Stressman