I am fiercely passionate about what happens in my home, and the family life we make. My mothering, my marriage- the relationship we have with our children , how they feel our love, and the connection we share. I am not aiming for perfection, and it has nothing to do with Zoe’s special needs and acceptance. It is all about belonging, I want my kids to know that family is a place where they belong. I am adopted. 

I am an adoptee, I have searched for and found my birthparents. I was lucky enough to unravel the truth behind the false birth certificate I grew up with. All of my original  records remain closed,( for now in the state of Ohio ) yet still I was able to first find my birthmother, who told me the story of my “ famous” father. I was able to reunite with my birthparents and find that part of “me”. I was even fortunate enough to co-present with my birthfather, the keynote address at The 30th Annual American Adoption Congress , Adoption Network National Convention.

I remember the exact moment I got the news, when my world stopped and for the moment -nothing else mattered. I remember the way the doctor led us across the recovery room and into the makeshift office of the medical tech I saw scurrying away.  Some guy who, at the doctors urging, left so fast, his abandoned cup of coffee still sat steaming on his desk. We sat talking until that cup of coffee grew cold.

 At first there was relief, I was strung out from sleep deprivation, and determination. I knew something was very wrong, but no one in  Arizona could figure it out. Thanks to my father’s celebrity connections,  Zoe and I had flown across the country to meet with a team of special doctors. 

  I made it through that meeting , learning a lot from the doctors words and more from those converstions that  followed.  Most doctors are practiced at the art of breaking bad news.

 Over time I have learned how much to say, how to have these conversations- and when it is best not to try.