Sean McConville is lost in a crowd. It’s the summer before senior year of high school and he’s standing in a parking lot at 7 a.m. in Stillwater, Minn. Thousands of other runners are milling around, gearing up for the 10-mile race set to begin. He’s searching for someone. She’s supposed to be standing by that sign, but she’s not. He turns around and is immediately greeted by a woman with deep brown eyes and a big white smile. He’s looking at his birthmother for the first time in 17 years.

 McConville, Minneapolis, Minn., senior, grew up knowing he was adopted. Pictures of his birthmother, Becky, were in his family photo albums. She wrote him letters describing her daily activities and eventual graduation from college. The letters arrived once per year around Christmas, right before his birthday. McConville didn’t write back. He says he didn’t know what to say to someone who already knew so much about him from his adoptive mother, Sue. His was an open adoption, and Sue had kept Becky up-to-date on his development.

The consistent relationship between McConville’s adoptive mother and birthmother allowed him to understand his adoption, but growing up an adopted child wasn’t always easy. In his early teen years, McConville began to recognize the differences between him and his adoptive family.

 He remembers sitting inside a cozy cabin on Lake Superior, his parents absorbed in books while he was itching to go outside and enjoy the beautiful weather. McConville says he likes being active, enjoying activities such as fishing and hunting. He says the differences between his on-the-move lifestyle and his adoptive parents’ homey hobbies made him feel isolated.

 Around the age of 14, McConville’s adoptive parents approached him with the idea of meeting Becky. McConville says he’d always been curious about her and wanted to see her. McConville’s adoptive mom, Sue, told Becky and they arranged a reunion. They planned to run the 10-mile race together as a tribute to their similar participation in track and cross country. Open adoptions make it easier for adoptees to locate and reunite with their birthmothers because birthmothers and adoptive parents often stay in touch, as Becky and Sue did.

 Open adoption isn’t a legal term, says Marilyn Waugh, director of Adoption Concerns Triangle, an adoption- and search-support group in Topeka. “Open adoption is designed to be a child-centered arrangement based upon the premise that humans need genetic continuity to attain a healthy identity,” Waugh says. Historically, the push for open adoption began in the 1970s, when the stigma of unmarried mothers began to diminish. By the 1990s, closed adoptions were a thing of the past, giving way to open adoptions that facilitate ongoing contact between the birthmother and child.

 Back in the parking lot, McConville is overwhelmed in the moment of meeting Becky. “Oh, god, what do I do?” he thinks. Becky is accompanied by her husband, Jim, and three daughters, Clara, Carly and Cece. Everyone smiles and looks at each other. She asks if it’s OK to give him a hug. “It was the most surreal thing I’ve experienced,” he says. “I felt like I knew her my whole life.”

 He and Becky get on the bus that takes them to the start of the race. They talk for awhile but McConville, who’s not a morning person, starts to doze off. “I’ll just let you sleep,” Becky says. As the race is about to begin they jostle with the crowd for starting positions near each other. The gunshot sounds.

 In between strides, Becky tells McConville of her relationship with his father, Dan. He was shut-off from the beginning, not really wanting to be involved with the adoption process. She describes her pregnancy and her decision to give him up. She says she wouldn’t have been a good mom and wasn’t in the right place at the time, wanting to maintain her life as a fun-loving college student. “You would’ve hated me,” she says.

 Waugh, of Adoption Concerns Triangle, says meetings between birthmothers and their children benefit adoptees because it allows them to see someone who looks like them, realize their similar interests and understand any lack of connection they may feel with their adoptive family. “It’s like going to the movies,” she says. “You always want to see the story in the beginning.”

 At the finish line, McConville waits for Becky, who slowed down after they ran the first nine miles together. She was prepared for this to be the one and only time they meet, but McConville wants to keep a relationship going. They talk on the phone once per month and McConville visits when he’s back in Minnesota. Although he has a continuing relationship with Becky, he’s still never met his birthfather, Dan.

  McConville has had Dan’s number for five years, but keeps putting it off. He says Dan’s closed-off demeanor may be a factor in his hesitation. Despite his reluctance, McConville says he would regret not meeting Dan after hearing about their similar mannerisms and interests from Becky. McConville hopes to meet Dan sometime after graduating from the University in December.

 After a successful meeting and continued relationship with his birthmother, McConville says he’s happy with the way his life’s played out. Becky is supportive and loving, but doesn’t try to replace his adoptive parents. “They’ll always have the first 17 years,” he says. McConville says he sees Becky more like an older sister than a mother. She doesn’t try to “raise” him, and allows him to be his own person.

 Another student raised by adoptive parents, Leah Cullen, is just starting down the path McConville has taken. Cullen, Overland Park junior, thumbs through an old yearbook at Haskell Indian Nations University. She lands upon a volleyball team picture of the purple-clad Lady Indians and spots a familiar face. It’s her birthmother, Shelley. They have the same athletic skills, the same dark hair and the same brown eyes. “This is so weird,” Cullen thinks. “I’m the same age, and I’m in the same place as you were.”

 Born at Lawrence Memorial Hospital in 1989, Cullen never thought she would be back in Lawrence. She was looking to play volleyball at the University of Arkansas, not considering attending school 30 minutes from her hometown. But now, Cullen is a KU student, and being here has made her want to find her birthparents, she says.

 Like McConville, Cullen had an open adoption. She says she considers herself lucky to know as much as she does about her adoption. She knows that her birthparents both went to Haskell. Her birthmother played volleyball and ran track, and her birthfather played basketball and football. Shelley got pregnant at the age of 18 and gave Cullen up for adoption through Catholic Charities of Northeast Kansas three weeks after the birth.

 Cullen says she knew she was adopted as soon as she understood the definition around age 3. Her adoptive mom, Patricia, says she began using the “adoption” word immediately in a familiar and positive way to help Cullen understand. Patricia says she let Cullen take the lead and answered questions about her birthparents’ looks, relationship and medical history.

 Ever since first grade, Cullen says she was obsessed with the idea of meeting her birthmother. Patricia had been sending Shelley a letter once per year, and at 8 years old, Cullen asked if she could send one, too. Cullen began writing Shelley letters, hoping she was doing well and telling her about their similar looks and passion for volleyball. The letters were sent to the agency and forwarded to Shelley. Shelley didn’t write back, which was hard for Cullen. Patricia explained that it might be difficult for her to respond because of the emotional difficulty of being in contact with a child she couldn’t keep.

 Undeterred by a lack of communication, Cullen remained hopeful. She says she had a countdown to her 18th birthday when she could begin the search. But two years later Cullen hadn’t made any attempt to obtain her original birth certificate or adoption files. She says she became busy with high school club volleyball and entering college, and didn’t make time for it. “It became less important the older I got,” she says.

 Now a sophomore in college, Cullen wants to pursue her search. She is planning on going to the Kansas Bureau of Vital Statistics in Topeka to get her original birth certificate. On this birth certificate are the full names of her birthparents, Shelley and Todd, as well as the name given to her at birth, Ashley LaMere. Cullen thinks that seeing the birth certificate will make her adoption seem more “real.”

 Cullen also wants to obtain her adoption files, which are kept at Catholic Charities of Northeast Kansas, now located in Kansas City, Kan., and plans to get them before searching for her birthmother this summer. Catholic Charities says that it can help adoptees in two ways. First, it can provide non-identifying information, which may include medical, genetic and social history, but includes no names or locations. Second, the agency can perform a search for a $100 fee, but does not guarantee it will be able to find the birthparents.

 Nancy Bean, director of Adoption and Counseling Services for Families, Inc., in Overland Park, says that it’s important for adoptees to question their fears and expectations before setting up a meeting. Sometimes people get caught up in an idealized image of who their birthfamily is. But adoptees should set boundaries and not let their fears stand in the way of a potential reunion. “The intensity is a little like falling in love,” she says. Adoptees need to be prepared for the rush of emotions they may encounter.

 Even though she was obsessed with getting her “picture perfect situation” when she was younger, Cullen says she gradually began to realize “it’s not all about you” when searching for a birthparent. After watching an episode of MTV’s “True Life: I’m Adopted,” Cullen says she began to understand that giving up a child is a painful thing for a birthparent, and that a reunion might bring back devastating memories.

 Cullen says she used to be selfish in wanting to communicate and have a relationship with her birthmother, but sees that now she could be storming in on someone’s life. Bean says that you don’t want to bulldoze through the process, but should tread lightly. Cullen agrees, and would prefer to initiate contact the old fashioned way by sending a letter. “I don’t think I’ll call her. I think she’d drop dead on the floor,” she says.

 The transition from a romantic ideal to what could be a hurtful reality has been a gradual one for Cullen. She says she’s grateful for how she was raised, being able to attend a private Catholic high school and staying in nice hotels for her club volleyball tournaments. Cullen says she doesn’t necessarily desire a relationship with her birthmother because of her strong relationship with her adoptive parents. She says she would leave the amount of contact up to her birthmother. Her adoptive mother, Patricia, agrees.

 Patricia says she doesn’t see the possibility of a reunion as a threat because she’s secure in her relationship with Cullen. She supports Cullen in her search, helping her contact agencies and getting her original birth certificate. “If it’s important to her it’s important to me,” she says. As far as the outcome of a meeting, Patricia says that she is cautiously optimistic, wanting the best for Cullen.

 Although some adoptees think that meeting their birthparents is a significant part of their lives, others don’t. Chris Albrecht, Olathe junior, says that for him a reunion isn’t necessary. Albrecht’s adoption was closed when he was 7 years old, when his adoptive parents decided it would be best to prevent the birthmother from becoming overly attached. Albrecht says that around age 10, he first asked about being adopted, but didn’t realize the full scope of what it meant.

 Albrecht says one major factor in his decision to abstain from meeting his birthmother comes from his fulfilling attachment with his adoptive parents. He says he wonders about the habits and traits he may share with his birthparents — he knows his father plays the drums, which Albrecht also enjoys — but similarities aren’t enough to push him to want to find his birthparents. “Anyone can father a child, but to be a dad you have to forge a connection at some point.”

 Bean, of Adoption and Counseling Services for Families, Inc., says that the older adoptees get, the more likely they are to seek out their birthparents, but everyone needs their own right time to do it. She says the adoptee should not be going through a life crisis and should calmly enter into the relationship. She also says it’s optimal if the families have been connected since the birth of the child. Ultimately, the adoptee needs to find the right time to do it themselves, and be prepared for a life-changing outcome.