‘I Found My People’: Fredericksburg Woman Met Her Birth Parents; What Then?

FREDERICKSBURG, VA — Annemarie Landry likes to say she won the Powerball jackpot when it comes to family.

It’s shorthand for the discovery of her birth parents, two biological brothers, cousins, aunts and uncles, and grandparents — an entire tribe of people who look like her and share her DNA.

The 59-year-old Fredericksburg piano and before-school Spanish teacher always knew she was adopted. Precocious as a child, she proudly proclaimed, “I’m adopted!” It meant she was chosen, special.

“I would say I was a bit of a princess,” Landry told Patch.

“I had the best parents and best life growing up, but I was always curious about my birth parents,” she said. “All I knew growing up was typed on an index card my mom kept in the safe deposit box at the bank that I would see occasionally that listed ‘mother’ and ‘father’ in two columns.”

It has basic information — her biological parents’ height, hair color, and eye color — but nothing that would identify them.

Annemarie Landry grew up in San Antonio, Texas, about 80 miles from the Home of the Holy Infancy in Austin, operated by the Ladies of Charity, a Catholic order, to help unmarried mothers and adoptive families.

‘The Right Thing To Do’

Mary Jo Huard, a 19-year-old University of North Dakota student, had selected it in 1966 when she and Dale Mlcoch found out they were going to become parents, something neither was prepared for.

“I couldn’t have given her the upbringing in those 10 important first years that her parents did,” Mary Jo, now 79, told Patch.

Mary Jo’s parents, Walter J. and Delia Marie Huard, knew nothing of their daughter’s pregnancy, and Mary Jo intended to keep it that way. She hid the bloom of pregnancy under loose-fitting, baggy clothing.

Under the ruse of taking a semester of classes at the University of Texas to see if this boy, Dale, was the right one, she took off alone for Austin.

“My birth mom was the MVP here,” Annemarie said of her birth mother’s courage and resolve. “She found a place to live, a job in a town where she knew no one, had me by herself, gave me up for adoption and moved back home in time to pick up her schooling and no one knew she had gone away and had a baby over the summer.”

Her parents would have supported her, Mary Jo said.

But it may not have been pretty. It was 1966, and though an era of huge social upheaval and profound change was underway elsewhere, in Grand Forks, North Dakota, “You didn’t have a baby out of wedlock.”

“I was a very virtuous, clean-cut American girl, and here I had done all that,” Mary Jo said. “I would have been branded a slut, basically.”

And who knows how their child would be stigmatized.

She and Dale decided that putting their baby up for adoption “was the right thing to do.”

Mary Jo never wavered. It helped that her much older brother and sister-in-law adopted their children. She knew adoption stories often have happy endings.

“I saw this happy scenario of adopted babies. I don’t know if I would’ve had the ability to give her up without that inspiration,” Mary Jo said. “He had no idea the impact that had on my decision-making.”

‘Someone Else’s Darling Baby’

Annemarie was never not wanted, Mary Jo said.

“She was never not loved, cared for, talked to and patted,” Mary Jo said. “But I knew she was not mine. She was going to be someone else’s darling baby.”

After Annemarie was born, Mary Jo was given a chance to hold her. She declined. Though she could have loved her and, in fact, did, “I never really ‘owned’ her emotionally — that’s the only way I can explain it,” Mary Jo said.

Mary Jo did go to the nursery to see the baby who would always be part of her and Dale, but someone else’s child.

“She looked exactly like my baby pictures,” Mary Jo said.

She was confident that Edwin and Evelyn Landry, both social workers with master’s degrees, would provide a stable and loving home. Older than most first-time parents — Evelyn was 27 and Edwin was 30 — and had been married for five years. They longed for children, but had been unable to conceive. When they decided to adopt, they went to Austin.

Mary Jo had a year to change her mind. There was never a time when the adoption agency didn’t know where she was and how to reach her.

“I’m not going to try to find her, but if she ever wants to meet me, I want to meet her,” Mary Jo told the social workers.

After the baby was born, Mary Jo moved back to North Dakota and picked up her life as if nothing had happened, holding the secret close. She felt a particular longing every year on Sept. 14, Annemarie’s birthday. She added a charm to her bracelet, a stork. It was just another of many charms, and only she and Dale knew its significance.

“I carried Annemarie with me every day, and so did Dale,” Mary Jo said. “We talked about it. It was truly a bonding experience.”

A couple of years after Mary Jo returned home from Texas, she and Dale married. They had two sons, but divorced after 12 years. Dale had “trouble with alcohol,” but was also charming and often used their shared experience “as one of the reasons to get back together,” Mary Jo said.

During their marriage, Dale’s job with Texaco eventually landed them in Texas, a few hundred miles from Annemarie’s home in San Antonio.

They kept their promise not to seek her out, but the family was closer in 1985 when Annemarie Landry began searching for her birth parents.

The adoption was closed, “so I had to be 18 to even attempt to find my birth parents, so when I turned 18, with my adoptive parents’ unwavering support and love, I did,” she said.

It wasn’t much of a search. Because Mary Jo had been so diligent about making sure the adoption agency had her current address and phone number, the reunion was organized in a matter of days. Six weeks later, Annemarie met the rest of the clan.

“I have had the best of both worlds since we met in 1985 — my adoptive family who raised me, and my birth family,” Annemarie said. “I’m so blessed to know and love and be loved by all my families.

“Not many adopted kids get to meet their birth family, or have it be such an awesome, welcoming, loving family as mine,” she continued. “When it comes to family, I hit the Powerball.”

‘I Couldn’t Take Her In Enough’

The experience was a bit more surreal for Mary Jo.

“I don’t know if there are enough words to describe what it was like,” she said. “It was kind of an out-of-body experience. I couldn’t take her in enough.”

As if Annemarie were a newborn instead of an 18-year-old, Mary Jo sent out birth announcements. For the party six weeks after their meeting, she had a family tree cake baked and decorated that included Annemarie’s name with the rest of the family.

She met her grandparents on the telephone.

“Mom and Dad, I want you to sit down. There’s someone very important I want you to meet,” Mary Jo said at the time. “Immediately, my mother said, ‘I must’ve been a bad mother.’ I said, ‘No, you were an exceptional mother, which gave me the ability to do what I had to do.’”

Mary Jo had missed the experience of counting toes and fingers, something other parents may take for granted, she said.

“Since that day, I don’t think we ever stopped touching,” Mary Jo said. “It’s been every bit the experience new parents get. It’s been 40 years of joy.”

‘Nobody Writes The Recipe’

That’s not to say there weren’t some rough spots. Mary Jo and Annemarie had to learn how to become a family, a topic Oprah Winfrey explored in her daytime talk show’s “Adoption Files” series.

“We had a bit of falling out, some misunderstandings, but you know what, nobody writes the recipe on how to form this relationship,” Mary Jo said.

The falling out was around the time of Annemarie’s wedding. Who would be the mother of the bride, the woman who raised her or the woman who gave birth to her? Would the full brothers she barely knew be groomsmen?

“Whoa, I was knocked out of left field,” Annemarie said. “For a period of time, we butted heads.

“When adoptees want to find their parents, there should be a little more preparation than, ‘Your birth mom wants to meet you. Can you come on Tuesday?’” Annemarie said.

“Those things are in place now, but not in 1985 — things like: Are titles important? What is the relationship with the adopted family? Were you looking for something you always thought was missing?”

Instead, “I had this whole big family in less than six months,” Annemarie said. “It was 360 degrees of wild and crazy, but pretty awesome.”

Forty years later, Annemarie and Mary Jo and their extended families have learned how to be.

“I couldn’t believe I found my people,” Annemarie said. “They brought me into the fold like I had always been there.”

Their conversations are frequent, always punctuated with back-and-forth proclamations of “I love you,” as was the case during a phone interview with Patch last week. They travel and find adventure together, and talk frequently on the phone.

“It’s delightful and amazing. We have such good conversations,” Mary Jo said. “It’s a very rich, rewarding, wonderful and meaningful relationship.”

About Patch People

Patch People is a recurring feature telling the stories of readers, including their interests, passions, challenges, triumphs and seminal moments that resulted in profound change, with a goal of making us all feel a bit more connected. Or, you may want to talk about something entirely different, and that’s OK, too. Readers can submit their stories through this form or by email to beth.dalbey@patch.com.