If you don't know already, HotMommy was adopted when she was six months old. Before Buzzkill and I knew we were pregnant with Punkinhead (but were in the planning phase), I sent a letter to my birthmother asking for medical information so that we'd have as much knowledge as we could about possible complications, genetic diseases, etc. If you want to read more about it, I blogged about it on my old Myspace blog back in '06.
So, the sadness thing. My head understands that she's not willing to provide me that information, but every day before the mail comes, my heart leaps a little and I wonder, "Maybe today I'll get something."
I wonder when my heart will give up the hope?