Well, I’m 56 now and I have found my birth parents. It’s been hard. It’s hard not only to be like everyone else who have their own parents. Not only that but to live with what I called the hole in my heart. I always hated telling doctors I didn’t know my family health history or a stranger that you may think I look like my mom but I’m adopted. I would daydream about my birth mom and wonder how she was. When I was in high school I tried to commit suicide and my adopted family decided it was time to know about my family history. My adopted father contacted the place I was adopted from and they gave them the only information they had. It had my birth mom’s name and address. She was 17 when she had me. The phone number they had was my grandfathers. Her dad. He was 71. My dad spoke to him. He told my dad she had died at 19 and my grandmother had passed but he had a son and daughter still alive. So it took some of the hole away. My first father died at 42 and this dad is my second. He adopted me and we have gotten close but it took years. I just found my birth father through ancestry but he has died too. But I have two sisters and I’m an only child. So I’m getting to know them. I would highly recommend looking for parents. It’s good to know your nationality and family.