Separated At Birth

It was a typical December day in 2007. I was getting my daily fix of Guatadopt, what kept me sane or made me more insane during my process. And I came across a post by someone who would become a dear friend, Sandy. She was anxiously awaiting her PINK appointment so that she could bring her precious Elliana home. She waited. She waited. She waited. And she waited some more. After waiting, and waiting, and waiting some more, she started inquiring only to learn that her Cable 37 was not in Guatemala City but rather in China.

I remember reading her post and my heart breaking for her. So I sent her a prayer. Little did I know how God would minister to her through that prayer or how God would tie us together through that prayer, but God did. Not only did God part the Pacific Ocean and get all the necessary paperwork from China to Guatemala but He bonded two sisters, Sandy and Ana.

The more I got to know Sandy, the more I was convinced we were separated at birth. We thought alike, we had similar senses of humor, we liked similar things, we had similar philosophies and doctrinal beliefs. It was great! When she started blogging, I would check her site regularly to see how God was speaking to me through her. It was really cool. Then, we both got into "designing" the blog, another opportunity for the bond that is created when you mess up your blog and your virtual BFF is online and fixes it.

So, as you can imagine, I was extremely excited to learn that Sandy was coming to town. Sandy was visiting her in-laws in Key Largo and invited us to go and spend the day with them.

I loaded up my little SUV and headed south on the Florida Turnpike. Alberto was in the backseat listening to the same song on the CD playing over and over and over and did I already say, "over" again. I used that time as he was singing to the Beatles, to think. And I was marveling at how my life had changed now that I had a child. I was thinking about how being a single woman was different from being a single mom. And then a thought crossed my mind, how do I really know that Sandy is Sandy?

So the paranoia in me set in full force. I started thinking of those Dateline Predator Specials and wondering if Sandy's posts on Guatadopt and her blog were just a cover up, a scam, a way to attract unsuspecting, naive women with small children and sell us into slavery. I was wondering if it would be a good idea to give my family my whereabouts and tell them that if they don't hear from me to send the authorities looking for me.

The more I thought about it, the more preposterous it became. It would have required a lot of work. But then, if she was really not a she but a sicko who had a lot of time on his hands, maybe he could have created the entire Sandy persona. I decided to block all of that out of my mind and continued driving south to the Florida Keys. Granted, I took comfort in knowing that I left the email where she gave me directions open and that my mom knew I was heading to the Keys.

As you can imagine, it was a PHEW moment when I pulled up and sure enough Sandy was Sandy and not a candidate for Dateline.