I am a daughter

I am the "daughter" of John Peter & Grace Elinor Hergenrader. My beginnings are clouded by the fact that Grace Elinor did not give birth to me, HER daughter did. The woman that donated the egg that came to be half of my genetic make up is the daughter of my mother. Got that? She was 16 at the time of my birth and was sent to live with my "sister" Judy before my arrival. My opinion is so that it wouldn't embarrass anyone, but my opinion at that time didn't matter.

When I was 18 months old my illustrious egg donor decided she had enough of her imposed exile and prepared to depart the dessert of AZ and return to her native mid western home in Nebraska. This is when my story gets fun. "Mom" and "Daddy" would only support her return to her home if she left me behind, and if that was her choice then she must agree to them adopting me as well. The egg donor chose freedom from the responsibility of raising me and departed before the ink was dry....and thus I became the daughter of Pete and Elinor.

When I was 12 I discovered that Mom and Daddy weren't really my parents. Now, of course by this time they were both retired and any child of average intelligence should have by this point questioned why her sister had a child older than she, and a child her age....why her sister in fact was old enough to be her mother. Well, I do claim at the very least average intelligence but nevertheless never knew until finding the documentation. I remember vividly the things that transpired that day. I snooped through a hall closet and came across a blue metal box. In that box were my adoption papers. I put them back, jumped onto my bicycle and rode as quickly as I could to my sister's home. I asked her about it and she told me the truth. The truth that apparently everyone but myself knew, even the neighbors! She told me that HER sister was my birth mother and that she had always refused to tell anyone who had donated the other piece of my genetic identity. (To this day she still refuses.)

I am the daughter of Pete & Elinor. Even though my therapist (bless his soul) has attempted to convince me that my egg donor is my mother and my parents are my grandparents, I refuse to even contemplate it for a moment. Pete & Elinor are my parents. I won't budge on this. They did their best in raising me, and although I know I put them through hell many times, they are still my parents and never wavered from that. How dare my therapist try to minimize their role due to a little complication such as neither had anything to do with my conception! My therapist and I have agreed to disagree on this matter, and it is a good thing too, or he would be my FORMER therapist!