.png)
4 hours ago
6
I grew up in a small town in Connecticut. I always knew I was adopted: my mum told me that, as well as her, I had my “tummy mummy”. I was adopted from the Dominican Republic. My mum there was called Julianna, and she and my dad gave me up for adoption because they were poor.
Fast-forward to 2013, and I was 24 and working in a restaurant in New Haven. One day, one of my co‑ workers, Julia, noticed my Dominican Republic flag tattoo. She told me she was from there, too. I said I was adopted from there, and she said she was as well.
Julia was 23 – we’re 17 months apart. We hit it off right away. People would always tell us we looked alike. We would joke and say: “That’s because we’re sisters.”
We decided to compare our adoption paperwork, but our birth mother’s names were different, as was the place we were born. It was anticlimactic. After that, we let it go. We only worked together for about six months, but stayed in touch.
I still hadn’t given up hope of locating my biological family. In 2018, my mum got me a 23andMe kit for Christmas. About three weeks later, my results were ready. I discovered I had a first cousin once-removed in Connecticut. I clicked on his 23andMe profile and it said: “If you were adopted from the Dominican Republic, I might be able to find your family.”
I messaged him and asked if he could help. He replied and told me his mum was my mum’s cousin, and they had been good friends. He said that my mum had passed away since, but my dad was still alive, and I had lots of siblings.
News travelled fast. Suddenly, I had all these Facebook friend requests from new relatives, including seven siblings. At the time, I didn’t speak Spanish, so a friend came over to translate. I had a video call with one of my new sisters and it was like looking in a mirror.
A few days later, I talked to my dad for the first time. It was amazing. We both cried. He said: “I want you to know that your mum and I always thought about you.”
I flew out to the Dominican Republic to meet everyone in March 2019. I felt as if I was going to throw up – I was scared, nervous and excited. They were the most loving people.
A year later, I got a message from someone named Molly, who was also adopted from the Dominican Republic. Her paperwork said her birth mother had the same name as mine. She thought we might be related, although we didn’t look alike. She did a DNA test – it showed we didn’t have the same parents.
But that interaction revived an old nagging suspicion of mine. I video-called my dad to ask if he had given up another girl for adoption; he looked as if somebody had taken the wind out of him. He said that they had, and told me about her. Julia fitted his description. I couldn’t believe it.
I just knew she had to be Julia. Since then, I had moved away from Connecticut to Virginia, but we’d stayed good friends. I got in touch and convinced her to take a DNA test.
Two and a half weeks later, in January 2021, the results came back. She called me and said: “Are you ready? We are sisters.” I lost it. I couldn’t stop crying.
We met up two weeks later. I get goosebumps thinking about that moment. We weren’t meeting as friends any more, but as sisters. We think our birth papers got mixed up – maybe Molly, the woman who had contacted me earlier, had ended up with Julia’s papers.
In October 2022, I went with Julia to the Dominican Republic to meet our family. Everyone was waiting for us at the airport wearing T-shirts with a picture of us on them. My dad scooped her up – it was a beautiful moment.
I always wanted to find my family, but never in a million years did I think that this would be how it happened. Now, Julia lives in California and I live in Virginia – we’re 2,500 miles apart, but we FaceTime all the time.
Sometimes I think about what would have happened if Julia and I hadn’t met. I think I would have found my family regardless, but I don’t know if I would have found her. Even now, it still doesn’t feel real – I can’t believe she’s my little sister.
As told to Isabelle Aron
Do you have an experience to share? Email [email protected]
