Finding DNA: An Adoption and Ancestry Success Story (Part 1)

Those closest to me know that my mother was adopted.  It’s no secret, never has been.  Her parents (my grandparents) are incredible people who raised her (and me) in a loving and structured home.  My grandmother is my hero and my grandfather(s) encouraged me to put myself through college and succeed like they did.  We couldn’t have asked for more.  But something was always missing in our (my mother and I) lives: our origin.  She grew up an only child, and I grew up an only child.  We were biologically isolated.  We look different than everyone else in our family.  And while others proudly celebrated their ethnic heritage, we couldn’t.  In the past five years home DNA testing has become more attainable and affordable, so we began a scientific and serendipitous journey that led to finding my mother’s biological parents.  This is of our story (part 1).

 

 

We started with mitochondrial DNA tests (mtDNA from cheek cells) on Family Tree DNA as part of National Geographic’s Genographic Project, which tests only the maternal lineage of a sample (in this case, my mother’s) to map ancestral origin/migration and matches HVR1, HVR2, and Full Sequence.  Our haplogroup K (full sequence K1c1) originated between 30,000 and 22,000 years ago in Europe, and includes Ötzi the iceman.

 

 

I reached out to several matches, always with a disclaimer that we weren’t trying to impose or find my mother’s birth parents, that we were just searching for ethnic origins and maybe medical predispositions.  Those that replied shared that they could trace their lineage to the United Kingdom.  Okay, that’s a decent start.

 

 

Wanting more knowledge and having always known my mother’s birth mother’s maiden name (which is omitted in the interest of privacy), I searched on Ancestry for immigration origins and distribution in the United States.  Families sharing this last name generally emigrated to the U.S. from the United Kingdom, Ireland, France, and Germany, and settled in the yellow/orange states in the maps above (including a concentration in Texas, the state that my mother was born).

 

 

We also knew my mother’s birth mother’s first name, Jenna.  So I searched records on Ancestry and found the yearbook photos (above) in Texas in the 1950s.  The resemblance above to my mother when she was younger is uncanny and I felt like the girl in these photos was a relative, maybe even “her.”  But after the 1950s, I found absolutely no records on Ancestry.

 

 

But then I found an obituary and a memorial blog linking the name we were given to a woman who lived the latter part of her remarkable life as a poet and neo-Druid (cool, huh?) in California.  These resemblance in these pictures to my mother (and me!) gave me chills.  I didn’t want to get too excited, so I reached out to the contact on the blog.  Could this Jenna be the same Jenna from Texas?

 

 

 

After some time had passed without a reply (spam filtered), I ordered this woman’s book of poetry for my mother, and delicately explained everything that I had found.  I felt pretty strongly that she was her birth mother or a very close relative, and I explained to her that this was where the search would end.  I even gave her some side by side comparisons that highlighted some uncanny features between us.  We were satisfied with knowing something, and that would be enough.

 

 

 

Meanwhile we both took autosomal DNA tests (AncestryDNA from saliva) on Ancestry that would tell us our ethnic lineage from both parents.  I wanted to compare my mother’s ancestry with my own so I could help pinpoint what ethnicity she received from her birth parents versus what I received from mine.  In addition to her birth mother’s name, we were told that her birth father was an Italian from New York who was stationed at an Air Force base in Texas (I’m keeping it vague for the privacy of all parties).  We didn’t have a name, so I was unable to pursue it any further.  I mean…Italian doesn’t exactly narrow it down, but that did help explain our darker hair and skin compared to everyone else in our family.

 

What showed up in my DNA was a large percentage of Scandinavian, Irish (now part of a larger group in their database: Ireland/Scotland/Wales), and smaller percentages of Western Europe (France, Germany, etc.), Italy/Greece (now part of a larger group in their database: Southern Europe), and Iberian Peninsula (Spain/Portugal).  So basically I’m an Irish Viking with some rest-of-Europe thrown in.  What showed up in my mother’s DNA was a large percentage of Italy/Greece (now part of a larger group in their database: Southern Europe) and Scandinavian, and smaller percentages of Western Europe (France, Germany, etc.) and Irish (now part of a larger group in their database: Ireland/Scotland/Wales).  So my mother is an Italian Viking.  Very cool.

 

 

And then one day, something amazing happened: we got a match.  A CLOSE match.  My mother was matched, a 1st to 2nd cousin relationship with extremely high confidence, to someone in California with the last name that we knew.  These were scary times, as my mother and I were always afraid of rejection.  I can imagine it was scary on their end as well.  But we communicated and confirmed stories, dates, places, and shared many pictures.  The woman in the pictures that I had found on Ancestry and the memorial blog was in fact my mother’s birth mother (may she rest in peace and love).  Though she is passed, she was survived by three other children (my mother’s now half siblings!) who have welcomed us with open arms.  My mother now has a half brother in Hawaii (Thomas), a half sister (Susannah) and nephew in California, a first cousin (Jenna) in California, and a half sister (Mary) and nephew in Maine.

 

 

 

Since these connections were made, we’ve had some mini reunions (unions?) in Texas and California, and we’re playing around with plans to visit New England soon.  We’re still navigating through forming relationships with our new family members, but of what I can share publicly, it has been an incredible and fulfilling journey.  I’ve never seen my mother so happy and complete in my whole life.  And all from a little tube of spit…I never in my wildest dreams would’ve imagined!

 

Next: Part 2 of the story…

And Finding DNA: Additional Testing

 

 

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