RICHMOND, Mo. - Everyone wants to know their history. But for adopted children, learning their past often requires persistence.
Last month, Judith Endsley, 70, met her daughter, Nancy Stanley, 51, of Jefferson City, whom she had given up for adoption.
With the help of Ancestry.com and Facebook, Nancy was able to find her birth mother after searching for 27 years.
"It was everything I could ever hope for," Nancy said.
The reunion allowed Judith to finally learn what happened to the baby girl she gave away in 1965.
A prominent family
Judith grew up on an 80-acre farm five miles southeast of Excelsior Springs. Her father was president of the Wallace School District, which operated the two-room country school she attended.
Despite only having an eighth-grade education, Judith's father helped consolidate Ray County schools. Today, a plaque in front of Elkhorn Elementary School in Excelsior Springs honors him.
Judith's parents held conservative views on dating. When she was growing up, Judith was not allowed to attend a single dance.
She asked her father if she could attend prom if a boy invited her.
"I never heard such a fast "no' in all my life," she said.
After graduating high school, Judith began beauty school in Independence, where she met a young man.
"He was a fast-talking, smooth talker," Judith said. "He pursued me."
A family's shame
At 17, Judith became pregnant after having pre-marital sex. Members of her family were distraught when they learned the news.
"My sister-in-law told me it made my oldest brother cry," Judith said, adding he couldn't understand how she could have chosen to have sex before marriage.
Judith said her sister was irate. Her brother Kenneth, however, had a different reaction.
"Kenneth was sweet. He never said a word," she said.
Judith's parents were ashamed their daughter could have done such a thing.
"When people came to the house, I had to hide in the stairwell until they were gone," she said. "I learned to hide and never come out."
Her parents did everything they could to keep their daughter's pregnancy a secret. When family came to visit, Judith had to hide behind a wood stove. She was never allowed to wear maternity clothes in her parents' home.
Judith wanted to keep the baby, but her parents wouldn't allow it.
"They told me I couldn't bring the child home. There was no debate," she said.
Judith's aunt, however, tried to convince her parents to let Judith keep the child by offering to help raise the baby.
She was unable to change their mind.
Today, birth parents have the option to arrange an open adoption, in which they can have some post-adoption contact with the adoptive parents and the child.
That option wasn't available to Judith, who said she would have preferred that kind of arrangement. But even if it had been a legal option, she said her parents wouldn't have allowed it to happen.
The birth
Judith gave birth to a baby girl at the University of Columbia Medical Center on April 1, 1965.
After going through so much shame and humiliation, Judith wasn't even permitted to hold her baby.
"I was carted off to a private room, because I wasn't allowed to be in a room where there were mothers and babies," she said. "The social worker brought her into the room to where I could see her, but I couldn't touch her at all."
On the ride home, Judith told her father she had given birth to a girl. After that, they never discussed the subject again.
"There was no talking about it at all, no acknowledgment throughout the years," she said. "It was my shame."
A chosen child
When she was 8 years old, Nancy Stanley was sitting on her adoptive mother's lap in their kitchen in El Dorado Springs.
Her mom had dark red hair and brown eyes. Nancy had platinum blond hair and blue eyes.
She asked her mom, "Do you think my babies are going to look like me or look like you?"
Her mom took a deep sigh. She knew one day she'd have to tell Nancy she was adopted.
"I need to tell you something. Your dad and I love each other very much," Nancy remembers her mother saying. "Something was wrong with our bodies, and we couldn't have a baby like most people do. But what I've wanted my entire life is a baby, but we just couldn't."
Nancy's mother explained what the adoption meant to her and her husband.
"Most parents don't get to choose their children, and we got to choose you," Nancy's mother said. "I looked at you, and I knew I wanted you more than anything in this world. You're a dream come true."
Nancy said her family never treated her as if she were adopted. She grew up with one brother, who was also adopted.
"They were a very loving family," Nancy said.
The search begins
In 1989, when Nancy was 23, her adoptive mother died. At the time, Nancy was four months pregnant with her first child. Nancy ended up having three children, Christopher, Heather and Abbey.
During her illness, Nancy's mother encouraged her to look for her birth mother. Nancy called the Ray County Courthouse. She also asked her adoptive father for all of the information he knew.
But Nancy learned it's practically impossible for adopted children to unseal their files to learn the identities of their birth parents. She said doing so would require permission from both adoptive parents and both birth parents.
"If they were dead, I'd have to supply a death certificate to prove they weren't alive," she said. "If one birth parent wants to meet you and the other doesn't, it's closed. Nobody can meet anybody, if everybody doesn't agree."
Nancy would spend the next 27 years searching for her birth mother.
Social media success
Recently, Nancy submitted her DNA to ancestry.com. She was matched with possible relatives who also use the website. Nancy knew her parents were from the Richmond area, and she started talking to possible relatives near Richmond.
That allowed her to contact Barbara Proffitt, who maintains a profile for her husband, Phil Proffitt. Phil was one of Nancy's matches, and Barbara encouraged Nancy to post an ad in the Richmond News.
Instead, on March 2, Nancy posted a baby picture of herself on the private Facebook page of Richmond, Missouri. She said she was looking for her birth parents and included her birth date and where she was born.
The post was shared many times by local residents.
Two days later, when Judith was using Facebook, she saw the face of the baby she had given away decades ago.
"I couldn't believe it. I looked at this baby I had given away for adoption," she said. "All the hair she had, her little nose was all scrunched up. I kept saying, "Is it really her? Is it really my daughter?'"
After Judith gave Nancy away, she gave birth to two children, Cynthia and Tony. Judith had Cynthia call Nancy. After 27 years of searching, Nancy was finally able to talk to birth mother. She asked Cynthia to put her mother on the phone.
"She flooded me with information," Nancy said. "It was everything I could ever hope for and dream of."
On March 5, Nancy and Judith met at Ruby Tuesdays at Battlefield Mall in Springfield.
They embraced, and Judith was finally able to hold her baby girl, 51 years after giving birth to her.
Peace
After she put Nancy up for adoption, Judith wondered if the baby ended up in a good home.
"You know you've got a child out there. You don't know if she's had a good life or if she's been abused," she said. "I was so happy when I found out she had such loving parents."
Judith was relieved to learn what happened to the baby she gave away all those years ago.
"That made me very happy. I did something good for somebody," she said. "I gave joy to them because they couldn't have that child they dearly wanted."
Although neither of them knew at the time, for a couple years, when Nancy was in elementary school, both she and Judith lived in Richmond.
"We were blocks away from each other," Nancy said. "Her sister and brother-in-law were best friends with my parents. They came over all the time. Her sister rocked me in the nursery at the Nazarene Church every Sunday."
A legislative proposal
It was very difficult for Nancy and Judith to find each other. They want to make it easier for other children adopted in Missouri to find their birth parents if they choose to do so.
Both Nancy and Judith are supporters of HB 647, a bill proposed in the Missouri Legislature. The bill would allow adopted children to obtain their original birth certificates, which contain the names of their birth parents, once the children turn 18.
Nancy said the bill would help adopted children like her better understand their past.
"If an adoptee wants to find their parents, all they would have to do is go to the system and ask for them," she said.
Nancy added the change would help adopted children know their medical history, which would allow them to better treat hereditary diseases.
While there was great stigma attached to sex in the past, Nancy believes society has become more accepting. She said this change should make it easier for these records to be opened.
"It's a whole different culture. People are less judgmental, more open and loving," she said.
Nancy said some meetings between birth parents and children put up for adoption might not go as desired. Even so, she said children should be given the option to know their past.
Judith believes the bill's passage would help birth parents like her, who worry what happened to the child they gave away.
"It helped me to know she was raised well with a good family and not abused," she said. "It's cruel to kids who weren't raised by good people who might want to know their birth parents and see if they would accept them."
But Judith does acknowledge there might be some birth parents who might not accept the children they gave away for adoption.
Lessons
After going through such an emotional journey, Nancy and Judith have words of wisdom for those who are struggling with similar issues.
While it's difficult for adopted children to find their birth parents, Nancy said they should, "never, ever give up hope."
Judith said other birth parents who give children away for adoption shouldn't be ashamed of what they did.
"A lot of us have looked for love in the wrong place at the wrong time," she said. "If you gave up a baby for adoption, encourage Missouri to let us see those records, pursue your dream and maybe find your child. If you want to reconnect, do it."