April Showers… | By Bethany Luchetta
Ladies, I sit down to write this and tears well up. I have to ask myself where the emotion is coming from?! Haven’t I been processing this forEVER!.
Maybe you can relate to the feeling. Is there that ‘one’ thing in your life that just nags at you. It keeps rearing its head, just to stare you down to win the contest? Big sighs.
I am not sure how much of this journey I have written about in the past, or how long ago it was, or who read it. So, forgive me if you have heard part of this, just skip to the end.
I was born in Manhattan Kansas on December 9, 1980…. Wait, she’s starting from the beginning?! Boring. Ha. My birth announcement says, “Hoping you’ll rejoice with us”. My birth certificate has some particulars on it, birth name, parents, hospital, county, date. You know, the normal stuff.
Flash forward almost ten years. My family was on a camping trip when my parents showed us the wedding ring my dad had given my mom with an inscription of their wedding date; May 30, 1981. Wheels start to turn in my head. I was born in 1980. What’s the deal here? I can take myself back to the moments of what happened next around the fire-pit in Kern County. My parents began to explain how my older sister and I were not my dad’s biological children. My short life and a myriad of questions flashed across my mind without stopping; I was spiraling out of control without moving an inch. Then without control my tears sprang like raindrops from a sudden storm. I don’t recall how I ended up in my tent, but I laid there with snot and tears and unspoken questions pouring. I had felt different, disconnected, and a general sense of loss about something in my life. This news reinforced what I had been feeling with facts.
I say that there were not many conversations about this situation after this camping trip. As a kid I would say there wasn’t a platform for conversation when I was young. But I as an adult, I now see I was just afraid and insecure about how that would look for my life and I didn’t have the guidance to work those fears out.
Flash forward again another 8 years. I am not certain to this day about how this situation evolved. But I flew with my mom to her high school reunion in Northern California. I had a conversation with my mom about my birth father potentially attending this reunion, and if I wanted to meet him. I vaguely recall being unsure, but willing to pursue the truth about my lineage. As I deplaned (pre-2001), he was standing at the terminal gate exit. I didn’t know what he looked like, or that he would even be at the airport. But, the first thing I heard from this stranger was, “Hello Bethany.” I recall feeling absolute shock. SHOCK. Unwarned, unsure, unprepared, panicked and exposed. I am not sure what happened next. All I remember was disconnecting from myself into some imagination land of self-preservation/protection.
That weekend passed and I slowly found myself wanting to know more about my family of origin. I began meeting other family members and trying to build relationships. This didn’t go very well for the family back at home. It seemed to put my home on defense and high alert. My dad and mom fought about it, my sisters yelled at me about it, and I felt isolated and alone. These memories could have been one-time events, but they felt permanent and pervasive and always on my mind. This was a very tough season for me.
Years have gone by and my family has encounter ups-and-downs on this subject, blow-outs, highly charged emotional moments and months without talking. I haven’t always been nice about the topic; restless. It’s still not an easy topic for most of my family. There have been lots of things said by different family members and I have struggled in wondering if the birth father I met when I was 18-years-old, was actually really my birth father… or if there was still someone else out there who made me.
Questioning my identity has not been an easy path. Could I have just left ‘good-enough-alone’? Maybe. But I am a truth seeker and I wanted to know about my true heritage – ‘without a doubt’. Since I was young I have struggled with the sense of worthlessness, discard or without value. I’ve done all I can to outperform, perfect, and push my own limits. I used to think it was to get my parents love and attention or maybe to capture Gods acceptance or approval? I am starting to think, it was to capture my own attention; to find love for myself despite how damaged or discarded I felt in my core. I heard that children take the negative that happens in life and project it on themselves as their own fault. The example I heard, if parents get divorced or a loved-one passes, children automatically think “what did I do” or “this is my fault”. I am not sure the essence of this ideology, or psychology, but the gist of it resonated with me. How can I love mySELF if I didn’t see myself as loved for who I was; abandoned.
Last month I asked my bio-dad if he could do a DNA test with me to end my questioning once and for all; start a clean slate and work on the rest internally. He agreed. There are other stories to go along with this that make it more emotional and challenging. I got the results last week.
TO BE CONTINED with next week’s Blog ‘April Showers bring May Flowers’.
Bethany Luchetta is a writer of life and reality. In hopes to connect with the humanity around her, she writes from her heart. Bethany just celebrated 7 years of marriage with her love, Vince Luchetta. They are both on their second marriage. Life has not been without challenge in their personal lives and career lives, yet they strive for growth in love and tragedy. They share three beautiful daughters, Makayla (17), Paige (14), and Livvy Lou (3). If you see them, reach out and say hi!