Since my husband Michael and I had traveled all the way from our home in Northern California to rural Louisiana to join my biological brother and family in putting my birthmother, Belle, to rest... the story is over, right?Not even close.

At last the day had arrived for me to join my biological brother Jonathan and family in putting my birthmother, Belle, to rest.  I wasn't sure what all to expect, or how I would feel as we spent the day surrounded by family, some of whom would not know who I was, some of whom I had met once almost 25 years before on my first visit to Louisiana and all of them mourning the loss of the person who had given me life, even while knowing that the task of raising me would fall to a different set of parents.  What I did know was that the day would be full of emotions and full of learning, about Belle, about my biological family and about myself.  The day proved to be everything I had hoped and more.

Have you ever heard someone say that they are a classic first born?  Or the baby of the family?  People my age recall Jan Brady's frustrations with being the middle child... Do only children display unique characteristics?  Where do you fall in your family's birth order?My answer is complicated, but I got to experience a different role than I typically fill spending the day on the lake with my brother Jonathan and his family, before we would welcome more family the next day to spread my birthmother, Belle's ashes.But for Friday, it was just us, the lake and an opportunity for me to learn more about Belle, Jonathan and myself.

You know that feeling when you meet someone and you know you were always meant to be in each other's lives, even though time and distance kept you apart?  Or recognized a piece of yourself in someone that was so familiar it was startling?  Maybe not, but that's what it was like reuniting with my biological brother, Jonathan, as I journeyed to join him in spreading the ashes of my birthmother, Belle.  Today was finally the day I would get to see him and his family.  But first?  Kayaking in the swamp and poking an alligator with a man named Bingo.

The slogan for New Orleans is "Laissez les bon temp rouler" meaning "let the good times roll".  Thanks to my biological brother, Jonathan, our day was spent maximizing our opportunity to experience the food, culture and history of the city.  I had no idea how deeply I would connect with people who had survived a different natural disaster than I have.  Unbeknownst to us, a little bit of Louisiana magic was already at work behind the scenes in ways I would not fully discover until getting together with family, many of whom I had never met, to scatter my birthmother Belle's ashes three days later.(Photos of the trip will be found on the website www.DoYouKnowYourRealMom.com as well as on Facebook and Instagram @doyouknowyourrealmom)

Leaving my kids on the 1st day of school, traveling nearly 5,000 miles over 6 days, visiting sites built in the late 1700s, Bourbon Street, benignets, Voodoo, Sazeracs, poking alligators, family reunited, pontoon boats, epic food, spreading ashes and peace.  My trip to Louisiana had it all and more.  Getting to know the state my biological family loves while traveling closer to them every day, knowing our visit would culminate in putting my birthmom, Belle, to rest is nearly indescribable, but I'm going to try anyways!

My mom is a talented quilter.  You're not still wondering which mom, are you?  Sometimes I feel like a quilt... Lots of pieces of me that have come together in an unexpected way to make something unique.  Traveling to Louisiana nearly 25 years ago to meet my biological family for the first time helped my gather more fabric to add to my quilt.  Listen to hear more about that trip and how it will compare to my upcoming trip to attend my birthmother's memorial.

Identity is complex.  I think we become who we are through a mishmash of genetics, relationships and experiences.  For me- growing up with a closed adoption meant that I knew there were more pieces to the puzzle than I currently had.  Hearing from my birthmother, Belle, and my biological brother, Jonathan, for the first time was starting to help me discover some of the missing pieces.  Years later, going through the fire forced me to reexamine my identity in new ways.  And now, I'm taking the time to process through how these events tie to my identity and  Belle's passing, before I make my way out to Louisiana to learn more about who she was.

When people ask if I know my "real mom", I know they mean my birth mom... and I was about to find out.  Who was she?  What was her name?  Where could she possibly live that will take me over 2000 miles away to attend her memorial almost 25 years later?

My name is Kelli, but that's only my name on ONE of my birth certificates.  The other one is blank.  I don't remember what else was on that one, since I lost it in the fire.  It's just one of the pieces I will try to regather during this journey.