Another Milestone ~ 8 years and 8 months in the making!

Another milestone in my reunion with my firstborn happened last weekend.  (It only took 8 years and 8 months!)

For the first time ever, all of my children AND (almost) all of my grandchildren were together! It was the first time Christopher's two children met their aunt, uncles, and cousins. 

It was an amazing weekend, to say the least.  I am so thankful that all three of my raised children fully accept Christopher and his family into our lives.  And equally thankful that Christopher, his wife and children fully accept us into theirs.  There is no greater joy for me than to see the kids (grown and littles) all laughing and talking and enjoying each others company.  I am so very, very blessed. 

The weekend also brought an answer to a question I've wondered often since reuniting with my son and getting to know his children (10 yr old son and 8 yr old daughter).  I didn't know if they had ever wondered or been told exactly how I was "Grandma" to them.  I got that answer as we were walking from one zoo exhibit to another, when his daughter and I were lagging behind the others and talking.  She got quiet for a few seconds, looking at me, then asks "Why did you have daddy when you were just a teenager?". 

After I came out of shock I think I said "Well", with a long pause, then "That's just what happened." I was not prepared AT ALL for that!!  Thankfully some of the other kids ran up at that moment and the subject was changed.  Later in the day, it was just us again, getting popcorn in a busy concession stand line when she brought it up again. She asked why I couldn't be his mom because I was a teenager. I told her it was for lots of reasons that she wouldn't understand and that it was very hard and sad but I was so very happy that Grandma Pam and Grandpa Tom could be his parents for me. She said "Yeah, but you were his very first mommy."  Somehow I could still talk after that and said "Yes, I was, and isn't it wonderful that dad has both of his moms now?" She got a huge smile on her face and exclaimed a loud "Yes!" just as it was our turn to order.

Grandkids watching the penguins.  I so loved watching them all be together!

By late afternoon the kids were all ready to leave the zoo and head to our hotel to swim and order pizza in for dinner.  We took over almost the entire pool and then reception/breakfast area at the hotel ~ we were 8 adults and 9 children from 7 months - 15 years old.  

All My Sons (plus one wife!)

 
Christopher's kids seemed a bit overwhelmed with all their cousins, aunt, and uncles ~ trying to remember names, but at the same time also seemed very comfortable with all of them, like we had always been a part of each others lives.  

My firstborn son with my latest born granddaughter!

  Discussion has already been started on where our next get-together will be. 

Life is Good!

(Birth) Moms ~ Search for Your (adult) Child!

from: Wild Women Sisterhood

FULL MOON PRAYER by Rumi

What in your life is Calling you,
When all the noise is silenced,
The meetings adjourned..
The lists laid aside,
And the Wild Iris blooms
By itself
In the dark forest...
What still pulls on your Soul?

Are you a mother who lost a child to adoption?  
Does your (now adult) child call out to your soul?  
Are you too afraid to answer that call?   
Please, PLEASE, do not give in to that fear.  
Yes, it is hard to face the loss and grief that has been buried for so very long.  
Yes, it is frightening to let the world know that which you were told to never speak of again.  

But.  
But...  
It is so very worth it!  

Your world may fall apart ~ only to find it's way back together again ~ this time whole. 
This time with no secrets.  This time with answers.  No more wondering, worrying.  No more fear.

For it's true,
The truth shall set you free. 


And.
And...
Your child deserves to know their answers.  Just as you do.
Deserves to see your face ~ if only once.  Just as you do to see theirs.

Most states do not give adoptees their birth information.  
No ~ the adoption agency lied.  They are not given their information when they turn 18.  
No ~ the adoption agency lied.  You will not be breaking the law by looking for them.

Do you feel the pull of your soul?
Do you yearn to know if your child is still alive?  Happy? Healthy?
Then search.  

If you can't search, make yourself "findable".
Register with ISSR
Register on adoption.com
Register with the adoption agency that facilitated your adoption.
Google your state, country, province and "adoption records", "reunion registry" to see your local laws and resources available.

Then go find healing, here are some ways to start:
Find other natural/first/birth moms online or in area support groups.  
Concerned United Birthparents
Read some books
Listen to some adoptee stories
Read some adoptee writings
Read some more books

Open your heart

Listen to the cries of your soul

Search

Leave A Trail ~ Be Found

Breathe

American Adoption Congress Conference 2016

After attending AAC 2016, I have too much to write about to fit it all in one post.  Here is a summary of the experience, more to come in the following days:

The Week of Firsts

• I attended my first ever "real life" adoption event ~ the AAC 2016 Conference.  
• I traveled alone for the first time, which I surprisingly actually enjoyed.
• I was a presenter on a workshop panel ~ the first time I've ever spoken out loud to a group regarding adoption loss in my life.  Another thing that I very surprisingly enjoyed! 

The Stories
The biggest take-away from the conference for me were the stories.

So very many different stories.  

Different stories, but all rooted in loss and covered in confusion.

Adoptees, mothers, and adoptive mothers ~ even a raised son of one of the mothers presenting on Saturday morning spoke a little.  

Not only stories of the keynote speakers and the various workshops I attended, but also many people attending.  The questions and discussions from the audience after the keynotes and workshops were also insightful.

I am a people watcher, and couldn't help but watch and eavesdrop listen to the many stories being told all around me at various times throughout the conference.


The People
I thought that my favorite thing about attending was going to be meeting some of my adoptionland friends in real life.  It was awesome meeting Suz & Amanda, as well as seeing and meeting others that I "knew" through various blogs and forums.

The thing that most effected me about the conference though was the experience of just being with so many people who "got it".

The son, who was about the same age as Christopher, and his natural mom.
The daughter, also about the same age as my son, and her adoptive mom.

The moms.  Oh, the moms.  There were some amazing, strong, beautiful women of many ages, a few years to decades of loss, in or not in various stages of reunion with their (now adult) children.  All so supportive and caring.

The adoptees, who were so open to sharing their own reactions in reunion.
Who spoke of the times they pulled away from their original mothers and couldn't even explain why. Who were so open with helpful advice or caring, supportive words.

People who didn't look at you with pity, or reply with "what a wonderful thing you did" or...  

Validating My Motherhood

One of the biggest hurdles I have had to overcome in the six+ years since being reunited with Christopher has been the claiming of my motherhood ~ from my very first pregnancy, not just from the birth of the children I raised. 

For I never allowed myself to consider that Christopher was my child, therefore I was not "really" a mother to him.  He was always "the baby I couldn't raise". 

The things your psyche does to protect itself...

The first crack in that thinking was 16 years after his birth, when my daughter was 13.  She found the envelope of papers and photos of the brother she didn't know existed.  When she finally confronted me with the knowledge, she called him her brother.  My brain screamed "he's not your brother!" (I may have even said it out loud?).  Then my heart skipped a beat as I realized that yes, he was.  He was not just the baby I couldn't raise.  He was her brother.  He had two younger brothers also.  He was my son, I was his mother.  But I wasn't...

After reuniting and being able to fully acknowledge my motherhood, I still struggled with it.  I struggled with letting what other people think make a difference.  I allowed other people's attitudes that I wasn't really his mom since I didn't raise him take away from my truth.  I was letting my assumptions of Christopher's feelings (or lack of feelings) for me take away my truth also. 

When I was finally able to allow my heart to know and embrace my motherhood, to know what every other cell in my body knows is true ~ no matter what society or anyone else may say ~ that was a major milestone in my healing. 

While outside validation shouldn't be necessary ~ oh how wonderful it is to get it though!  Especially when it comes from outside the adoption world and friends I have found online. 

I got the most amazing and unexpected validation just a few days ago.  Christopher's mom and I occasionally send texts, have talked about getting together again for another visit.  I had been in their part of the state recently (to visit Christopher!) but didn't have enough time to stop on the way home and visit her this time.  I messaged her that I hoped I would be in her area again soon.  She replied back, and part of her message said "Don't we have a terrific son?" and "I hope you had a terrific visit". 

"Don't we have a terrific son?"

Six little words...  As happened in Whoville long ago, my heart grew three sizes!

I know I shouldn't need validation from anyone, but...  wow.  To get that validation from his mom is about as good as it gets for me.  Especially since it came on the heels of an after-visit melt down a couple of days earlier.  In such a short time to be at the steepest drop and then back up to the highest high ~ a roller coaster ride for sure!

I don't know what I've done to be so very blessed in this reunion journey of ours, but I am thankful for it every single day! 

Oh ~ and the visit!  I went on a road trip west to spend the evening with Christopher and his family last Friday.  It was a wonderful visit that had been too long in the making ~ it had been 14 months since I saw him and his wife, two long years since I saw his son and daughter.  We went to dinner then back to his house for a few hours.  The highlight of the night was hearing my sweet little 6 year old granddaughter calling me "grandma"!  She also gave me a tour of her bedroom and all her treasures. (There is a heaven on earth ~)   I had a great visit with Christopher and his wife after the little ones went to bed.  I even got a little one-on-one time with Christopher as he gave me a ride back to the hotel.  My heart was full as I was able to give him a hug goodbye and once again tell him I loved him in person. 

Life is Good ~

Adoption Reunion From An Adoptee's Point of View

Most of the stories you see of adoption reunion in the media are just sort snippets in time ~ the moment that family members see each other face-to-face for the first time since birth.  How happy and exciting it all is.

Those short snippets don't show what happens in the time after the first emails, letters, in-person visits.

Reunion was life changing for me.  There are still times, six years later, that I find myself lost in some aspects; trying to figure out how to navigate this new life with my firstborn son included.  

Today I read this adoptee's story of her experience and feelings in being reunited with her natural family.

It's an important read I think, especially for those expectant mothers considering adoption who are still landing here on my blog.  If the hope of a future reunion with your child is something that you are holding onto in order to be able to go through with adoption ~ take that hope off the table.  It's not a sure thing.  I have come to know some wonderful reunion stories, but there are far more where either the natural mother (or father) or the grown adoptee is unable to have a relationship with the other. 

Here are a few things that Jessenia said that I want to share here, but if you have time please go read Jessenia's post here.  (I added emphasis on the words that cut like a knife into this mothers heart)

I used to think that searching for my birth mother would be the hardest part about my adoption besides dealing with being adopted (I got used to that already). However, I learned that life post reunion has to be the most difficult part about being adopted.

It's complicated. Everything about it is complicated.


It was well over a year, maybe two, that I reunited with my birth family face-to-face. Simply put, I wasn't ready. I learned that I had six siblings - two older and four younger. That in itself added another degree of pain to know that my birth mother had other child and more children. Why was I the one that was abandoned? What was so bad about me? I struggle with it often till this day because I don't have all the answers, but even with them, I am afraid I will always feel this way.


Today, in my heart and in my mind, I struggle with how to live my life with two mothers even though my adoptive mom is my mom. She is number one and will always be that because she raised me, loved me, and never gave up on me or our family no matter how tough it was. She worked three jobs and did her best as a widow. That is what a mother does. However, be it the loving person I am, deep inside I want to be able to love my birth mother and call her "mom" or something close to that, but I can't. I want to compartmentalize everyone into their spaces. Two mom's just doesn't feel right. It doesn't fit. It is awkward. It is like I have a family over here and a family over there. And I must keep them separated, my moms anyways. I am afraid that one will feel loved more than the other. Not that my adoptive mom ever said anything like that to me before. It's an adoptee thing. But I have no desire to love my birth mom how I love my adoptive mom. I just wish things could be normal? Whatever that is.

However, on the flip-side, my biological siblings are dying to be in my life and want to do all that, but I cannot let them in until I figure out things with my adoptive family. Because again, I don't ever want my adoptive family to feel that I am showing more love to my birth family. My mind won't let me rest on this. These are the effects of adoption.

There is so much more to this story, but the bottom line is that I still don't feel like I am connected to anyone. I learned that blood or biological ties really doesn't secure a bond like I had imagined. That comes with time. Unfortunately, my siblings are having to pay for the decisions that was beyond their control because I know they love me like crazy, but I won't let them grow close to me. I am traumatized by what has already happened in my reunion that I am afraid to subject myself to more pain that I can easily avoid by closing the door. I wish I wouldn't do this to them, but this is what being abandoned and adoption did to me. I pray like crazy that one day I can let my guard down and be open to love without fear.

Oh Jessenia...  I hope and pray also that one day you can let your guard down and be open to love without fear.  I hope that for all adoptees.  I also hope that for all mothers who have lost a child to adoption.  Myself included.

a

Five Years Ago Today ~

My life changed once again.

Before this day five years ago, I defined my life as "before" and "after".  Before I lost my firstborn son to adoption and after.

At 4:50 pm on January 16, 2009 my life again changed ~ never to be the same again.  Now I have another "after" ~ after reunion!

I learned that Christopher was indeed alive!  And healthy and happy.  And that he grew up with wonderful parents.

What a whirlwind my life became in the days, weeks, months, indeed years became after reading those wonderful first emails!

As in the previous years since then, this year did hold some big moments.  I finally got to meet my handsome and charming 6 year old grandson and sweet little almost 4 year old granddaughter in July.  In September Christopher & family got to meet some of my closest friends when we all traveled east to attend his art gallery opening.  There I also got to see and visit with Christopher's mom again ~ as well as finally meeting his dad, sister & her hubby, and his mother-in-law. 

Life is good...

I don't know if I have ever mentioned that I am a quilter.  I have had some hand-dyed fabrics for several months but I didn't know what I was going to do with them.  The fabrics were a set of browns called "Earth" and a set of fire colors called "Fire".  They were too beautiful to cut into just willy nilly so they have been sitting on my cutting table for me to look at whenever I was in my sewing room.  One day a couple of weeks ago I was looking at some photos of my son and his artwork when suddenly I knew what those fabrics were supposed to be!  The process of creating this piece became a meditation for me.  As I sewed (and ripped out many seams!) I thought about our (Christopher & I) relationship compared to earth & fire, to firing ceramics in a wood-fired kiln.  The quilt turned out beautifully ~ I named it "Of The Earth ~ Into The Fire".  Where every quilt I'm working on/finishing at the moment seems to be my favorite one, I think this one might stay at the top of the list for a while!

"Of The Earth ~ Into The Fire" and the inspiration behind it

National Adoption Awareness Month - Day 1

Today is the first day of National Adoption Awareness Month.  I am going to try to post often during this NAAM ~ focusing on adoptees since that's what adoption is supposed to be about!

This month was created to bring awareness to the children who are available for adoption through foster care.  However, the adoption industry has high-jacked it to be a month long advertisement for their multi-Billion $$ per year industry. 

Adoption in the case of getting kids out of foster care is a wonderful thing ~ every child deserves to be raised in a loving and caring family. 

Adoption in the case of domestic infant adoption is completely different from foster care adoption. 

Adoption ~ even when an absolute necessity such as a mother and father having no desire to raise their child, or if abuse is a part of their lives ~ adoption is built upon loss.  Even if the adoption is a storybook example, that doesn't take away the fact that the infant had to lose everything in order to be adopted. 

The message of awareness that I would like to get across is that adoption should be a last resort.  Adoption is supposed to be about providing a loving home to a child who NEEDS one.  It should never be about providing a child to a home that WANTS one. 

Adoption today is different ~ they say.  Yes, it is different.  We can no longer say that adoption is only sunshine and rainbows for all involved.  There are too many people telling their stories, too many studies easily available.  It is  known now the life-long effects of adoption on those adopted, the natural mothers, as well as the adoptive parents.  It is time that people in the general public became aware of the reality of adoption and quit allowing the adoption industry to sell it's lies. 

Adoption today is built upon a foundation of loss and lies.  Even in an era of open adoption adoptees are still denied the truth of their own birth.  Only a few states allow all adoptees to receive a factual copy of their birth information.  What a crime that is! 

Speaking of lies in adoption, for this first day of National Adoption Awareness Month 2013, I'm going to share a request from an adult adoptee:

Dear Friends,
I am working on a slide show and power point presentation on the history of lies and corruption in adoption. one of the sections includes lies surrounding our adoptions. I would like to show the photo of the person along with 3 or 4 sentences describing the lies, corruption, or deceit.

Please consider participating in this by private messaging me your story along with any photo you are comfortable sharing. This will be presented by me in November at a conference on adoption with the primary audience comprised of a-parents and social workers. I want to sock people in the gut with this seminar.

Also, please spread the word. I would like tons of these experiences to pick through; especially lies propagated through agencies and case-workers.

Thanks,
Jeff Hancock

 You can share your lies with Jeff through his facebook page.  If you aren't fb friends with Jeff, send them to me and I will forward them to him ~ either message me through my facebook page or email them to me at findingchristopher at gmail.  Jeff is looking for photos/messages from adoptees as well as natural moms & dads. 

Here is what I'm sending to Jeff:

I was told that I wasn't allowed to see or hold my son when he was born.  Yet I was allowed a one hour visit with him when he was three weeks old ~ doing my best to be a "good birthmother" so I didn't even consider easing my heartbreak and raising him myself.  I was also told that I would be breaking the law if I EVER searched for him. Thank goodness I didn't care if it was true or not and signed up on some reunion registries online making it possible for my son to find me!  After almost 30 years I was finally able to learn that he was indeed alive ~ as well as healthy and happy. 

"The Strings of Life"

I stumbled onto the writing of Dabeshim a couple of days ago.  One of his poems caught me from the very first stanza.  I again am amazed at how the words of someone adopted can be so meaningful to me as a mother of adoption loss.  Below is the poem, interspersed with my own rambling thoughts brought to mind as I read the words. 

There once was a day

The winds were cold, darkness creped as far

As the inside, It had its say

We did as others wished

Serving them on a golden dish.

We knew no other way.

Like marionettes we lived,

Upon the Strings of Life.

Giving no thought at all.

The Florence Crittenton building was a big, old brick building. Dark. Cold. Always. Not the temperature, it was the atmosphere in that building…

I did only as they wished. As society expected of me. I made sure to let them all know that I wasn’t “one of those girls”. I really was a good girl, not a crack-whore. I really did love my baby, I really only wanted the best for him ~ It wasn’t at all that I didn’t want to be a mom, it wasn’t that I wanted to have a life full of fun instead of responsibility. I proved that I really did love my baby, loved him even more than I loved myself. I served my son up to the adoption industry on a golden dish…

What a good marionette I was, right in line being the good birthmother without any further convincing necessary. I already knew that there was no way I would raise a child in the way I was living. I knew that the only way I would be able to raise my child would be to move out of the house, and that would have been impossible on my own. I gave no thought towards the future, only to finishing what I had started by becoming pregnant while unmarried and young. No thought was given to what it would actually be like to give birth to my child, much less live without him. No thought was given to the fact that I couldn’t really ensure that my child would have a better life. No thought was given to what an adoptees life was like, how their life was affected by adoption. I was just following along with what was expected of me, like a marionette I lived…

I returned to school that fall unable to really be myself. I was sure that any classmates who knew of my pregnancy thought of me as either the classic whore or as a heartless person who gave her child away. I never breathed a word of my son to anyone afterwards, losing the freedom to be myself. Always fearful that someone would find out the truth. In addition, without even realizing it, my heart was locked up tight in order to not fully feel the loss of my son. How heavy was the weight of that prison I imposed on myself…

For our own freedom, our own call.

Now after so many years

I awoke to see that the power to live is

In you and in me.

We could be

Light as the air

With the wind through your hair

Free to move, here and there.

There and here, everywhere.

Now that we are no longer tied to the loom.

We can go from room to room.

We are Free at last,

no more strings of life to hold us down,

making us like clowns

In the moment of reading the first emails telling me that my son was looking for me, I awoke. I awoke from 30 years of denial and felt the power, the freedom, of living in my truth. I felt as light as air ~ the weight of that self-imposed prison was lifted. Once I had the chance to bask in the joy and treasure this new life that now included my first born son, I wanted to share the news with everyone. Christopher himself told me that I could go stand on the sandhills of Nebraska and yell the news out to the world. I was no longer tied to the loom that was labeled birthmother. The loom of shame. Shame that wasn’t mine to take on, but that I willingly accepted from the judgment of our society. The loom of despair and grief from the loss of my son ~ loss that I wasn’t even allowed to speak of. Loss that nobody in society sees, much less understands to have any empathy for. (Except for the others who live with the loss of adoption that is)

In talking to the search angel who matched our profiles, I felt as though I had beaten the system. Even though deep down I knew it wasn't true, the remnants of former beliefs were still there. I had believed the social worker when she told me it would be against the law to ever look for my son. Taking on that lie, it tied me further to the loom of adoption loss. Now here I was, being told by an angel named Kim that my son had been searching for me for a while, was very excited and waiting to finally hear from me. Just as I had been tied to the loom of adoption, so had he. In the finding, we were both freed from the looms, we were free to go from the room of secrecy into the room of truth.

The past is the in the past

None of that matter anymore

Yesterday is out the door

Let’s make the most of now

Since time doesn’t last

We made our own many mistakes

Sacrificed the best of ourselves at the stake

Yet we are free now to move every which way

To say what we want to say

no more strings of life to tie us down

making us look just  like clowns

Yes ~ the past is in the past. I can’t get back those lost years with Christopher. I made my mistakes. Many mistakes were made in the years after I lost Christopher to adoption. My biggest wish is that I had been strong enough to live my truth, instead of hiding from it.  For I wasn't really hiding from it.  It was always there, just under the surface, just out of reach of my conscious being.  I not only sacrificed my son, I sacrificed my authentic self. Being silent after the loss of my son to adoption only allowed the myths to continue. Being silent gave the impression that losing my son to adoption was ok. Being silent kept the tremendous loss and grief hidden. Did another mother go on to choose adoption because she saw that my life did seem to go on as before after losing my son to adoption? I will never know. But I do feel that I fed the adoption industry with my silence. The strings tying me down are gone, I am free now to speak of my experience. I am free to speak of the child, now a grown man, forever lost to adoption. There are no self or society imposed strings keeping me silent now. I speak out of the truth of adoption loss on my life. I speak out not because it can change anything for us ~ but maybe I can change something for another mother, for the children of that mother. I speak out now to help another living with the loss of adoption to free themselves from their own loom, to no longer be a marionette of the adoption industry.

We are as light as the air

With the wind through your hair

We have no more cares

That will hold us and keep us,

From ourselves,

like marionettes up on the shelves.

Oh you must believe me!

Oh can you see me?

Can you hear this song I sing?

It brings me here to you!

The strings of life have all disappeared

The strife we lived, sheared and blown away

We are free now to move every which way

To say what we want to say

no more strings of life to tie us down

lifting us high above the ground

We are free now to just be. The strings of adoption no longer control us as though we are only marionettes. I am his mother, he is my son. I love Christopher no less than the children I raised. The strings of adoption could take away my legal rights, but could never take away my love for him.

Oh come with me

And Fly! You will see

The music is playing, the choir is saying

We are Light as the air

The wind through your hair

Free to move, here and there.

There and here, everywhere.

With no more ties

Gone are The Strings of Life.

………………………………

© 2012 Dabeshim

Thank you for sharing these beautiful, yet haunting, words Dabeshim. Thank you for allowing me to ramble on and write of how the words touched my heart.

"The Strings of Life" by Dabeshim at http://anunrequitedlife.wordpress.com/2012/02/22/the-strings-of-life/ 

Letting Go

From this quote at the very beginning of the blog post on Metta Drum, I was intrigued...

We only become what we are by the radical and deep-seated refusal of that which others have made of us.

Jean-Paul Sartre

The following is my rambling brain trying to talk my way through the meaning of Daniel's post (which is in the brown all-caps text) in regards to my life.   This post is just a rambling mess, as are my thoughts...

Lately I've been exploring this idea of transformation as letting go. Letting go of what I no longer resonate with, and nurturing the deeper "me" underneath all that, instead of trying to patch myself up in an attempt to become something new and improved. 

I did let go of that confused, scared, all-alone-in-the-world 15 year old girl who had to give her son up for adoption.

Now I want to let go the wanting more.  I know that there IS no more to be had.  In order to have the more that my heart and soul search for, I would have had to raised my son. In order to have more, my son would also want to have more.

I want to let go of the hurt.  Is there a way to heal the hurts of losing a child to adoption?  Not to just accept it, but to heal it?

I feel that I am a new and improved version of myself ~ having come out of the adoption closet, out of the denial, I've gotten rid of the false beliefs.  But is there more than that?  Can I get to the deeper “me” underneath all of that?

Scraping the layers of paint and dirt off of the mirror, so to speak.

I think we lose sight of who we are when we find ourselves identifying with the paint and the dirt. We think all those layers of "stuff" define us, and then we feel defective. So we try to become less of this, and more of that.

In this way, we continually create a distorted, unsatisfying sense of Self.

You won't find any long-term solutions in the less of this, more of that approach. Instead, consider the idea that the You you've been searching for is already present within you, just waiting for conscious connection. Let go of the idea that you need fixing, because deep down, you aren't really broken. 

Am I really not broken?  I'm Christopher's mother ~ I gave birth to him.  Yet I didn't raise him.  Yet my heart and soul feel him as my son.  Yet...  It's an endless circle.

The truth of the matter is that I gave birth to a son who is not in my life as my soul yearns for him to be.  Is the conscious connection that needs to be made just the "knowing" that I am indeed a mother to my firstborn child?  That I'm not just a "birthmother"  (God, I HATE that word!)  I think I have scraped some of the layers off ~ I no longer look at myself as a "birthmother", I now know that I was always much more than the egg donor and incubator I believed I was.

Is it that the me I've been searching for is already present in me ~ just the knowledge and belief that I am and was always his mother, despite signing those damn papers?

Is the idea that  I need Christopher to truly be a part of my life in order to be "fixed" a false idea?  In writing out all of my pondering here, the answer to that is yes.  In the creating and giving birth to him I am his mother.  No, not in the way that I wish with all of my heart that I could have been, but signing a piece of paper didn't unbirth him from me.  It didn't take away my motherhood, it took away my parenthood.

You've only taken on layers of concepts, habits and dogmas that aren't serving you, and certain basic needs have gone unmet for awhile.

So begin to strip away those layers that you've built up over the course of your lifetime and discover the truth of who you are.

While I know I am so much more than a mother who lost her son to adoption, it is the biggest part of me.  Isn’t it?  I feel that it is.  It effects everything I do, everything I think, everything I am…

For example: Instead of trying to be less argumentative and more understanding of the viewpoints of others, simply let go of the need to always be right, the need to win. Underneath that, you may discover a fear that you aren't being heard, a fear of being invisible and unimportant. This fear may reveal the need for a very specific type of self-love — and once you understand where nurturing and healing are needed, you can begin your work of letting go at the source.

In being less argumentative and more understanding of the viewpoints of others in adoption, should I let go of the need to speak out of the truth of adoption loss for the mothers and adoptees?  To me it doesn’t feel like a need to always be right, it feels as though it’s a truth that needs to be told and understood.

I DO fear that I’m not being heard.  I do have the fear of being invisible and unimportant.  It’s not really a fear though...  I feel that it’s just the truth.  As far as being a mother of adoption loss, we are not listened to.  The loss that I live with every minute of every day is unimportant to anyone who believes or needs to believe in the institution of adoption.  The rainbows and sunshine of adoption are so prevalent, so deeply engrained in everything/everyone.  Except those who live with the loss of adoption.

I will admit that I do have a fear of being invisible and unimportant ~ To Christopher.  So what does that fear reveal?  What kind of self-love is even possible to overcome that?  Where do I let in the nurturing and healing for that?  What is the source of that?  How do I begin the work of letting go at the source if the source is the very soul of me, of my motherhood?

That's just one example, but it illustrates the process of letting go of the outermost layers of "stuff" and revealing the deeper issues underneath, where you can discover your root needs and begin to nurture them. This is where true healing and transformation take place. This is where your higher Self is waiting to emerge.

My root needs...  to have my son in my life.  Which he is.  Kinda.  I know where he is.  I know of his life.  And I am so very thankful for that.

The problem there is that my heart, soul, and every cell of my body feels for him as a son.  No differently than the sons I raised.  I didn't raise Christopher though...  so our relationship is...  less than?  Less than I want it to be, less than I need it to be.  Maybe that's what I have to finally accept?  That it will never, can never be, what I want/need it to be? To be completely honest with myself, right now I don't even know if what we have now is a relationship at all...

This will not be a comfortable process. You may stir up some scary, negative stuff. You may experience some very unpleasant awakenings that shake you to your core. But on the other side of this discomfort and this work, enlightenment and healing are possible. 

I have never really grieved the loss of my son.  I live with the grief, but I haven't experienced the grief.  I'm scared to allow myself to face it.  That deep, dark hole of despair.  As I referred to in another post, I'm scared of facing it because I'm scared that I won't be able to come out of it.  I fear that it's going to envelope me completely instead of just chewing me up and spitting me out. 

It won't be easy, no. But it will be worth it.

Begin the process of letting go of what you are not, and uncovering your neglected/abandoned needs. Nurture and clarify your true Self in this way. The process of transformation is really a process of discovery and refinement of who you truly are.

Today, you are not asked to change in order to become a better version of yourself. You are free to simply let go of what isn’t You. Free to let go of what isn’t magnificent and beautiful. Free to delight in the nakedness of You. The beauty and excellence of You. The fullness of You. 

Let go of what isn't me...  Let go of what isn't magnificent and beautiful...  Writing and contemplating on this entire post, I come up with two things that I need to let go of. 

The grief and loss that are trapped inside of me, unable to be expressed. 

The expectations of having "more" with Christopher. 

What if in finally allowing myself to acknowledge, feel, and express the deeply buried grief I sink into the despair, never to find my way out of the depths?
How do I let go of Christopher?  Again?  This silence is killing me.  Because I am wanting more.  So, do I just accept that there is nothing more to have, walk away and hope that one day he will again come into my life?  Do I just let go and let God?  Just as before when I went back to my life before I gave birth and gave away my first born son?  Shall I now just try to go back to my life before reading those emails on January 16th 3 years ago?  Walking away from my son again?  Is it walking away if he doesn't want me to be a part of his life? 

I thought that working through this post of Daniel's, it could help me work through some of my confusion.  I'm still confused...  Do I write Christopher a letter asking him what he wants out of this relationship?  Do I force a visit on him to discuss it in person?  Do I just go into silence as he has? 

Do I walk away from all things adoption?  The forum, the blogs...   In order to try to get back to life before reunion, I would have to.  To accept my life without keeping that adoption wound open, I would have to.  Or not?  Even if I don't keep picking at that scab, will it ever heal? 

Missing Him

So Blue Missing You

I miss Christopher....

I want so badly to see him again. I want to hear his voice. I want to hear his laughter. I want to simply just watch him be.

No.  That's not entirely the truth...

It's more than a want.  My heart and my soul needs to see him, to hear him, to just be with him...

I dream of spending time with him.  Of talking to him simply as mother and son.  Not as two people dancing around the years lost, around unknown boundaries, dancing around the fear of words said and unsaid. 

I don't know what has triggered this. These last few days I have been overwhelmed with it.  I miss my son with all of my being...

Maybe it is brought on by the passing of time.  Or by his continued silence.  Although when he does write he seems to write "deeper" than he used to...    I haven't seen him since last April.  Almost a year ago.  Which is more than many of you have had with your loved ones lost to adoption, I know.

But.

I still miss him...

Me - With No Apologies!

I Am Me

As the title of this blog says, reunion with my son wasn't only about finding and getting to know my son lost to adoption, it is also about finding myself. 

When I was a pregnant teenager in 1979, I took on the shame that society was only more than willing to dole out.  I no longer took into consideration all the good things I had done/did in my life ~ it was the "bad" I had done that I used to define my life.  I took on the secrecy of shame.  I thought that if anyone knew the "real" me ~ the me that *gasp* had sex at 15, became pregnant, then gave my baby away ~ they wouldn't like me.  Or worse yet, that they would hate me or think me to be a mean, uncaring person. 

I was already a "people pleaser", I already was one to avoid confrontation due to the crazy family life I was growing up in.  The shame of being an unwed mother who gave a child up for adoption just deepened this in me.  I set out to only show people the "nice" side of me.  To prove that after all, I REALLY WAS a good girl! 

The only time I felt that I could truly be myself was when I was with my life-long friend that I grew up with, as well as with a few girls we became friends with after I returned to high school after Christopher was born.  They all knew, understood, and loved me ~ the REAL me ~ even though... no matter what.  Until recently, it was only when I was with this wonderful group of friends that I could really be myself, that I could let down all my walls and just be. 

My friends & I ~ The Fab Five

With getting to know my son, getting to know myself, I now know that one bad decision didn't define my life.  Not saying "no" that one fateful night isn't my entire being.  Choosing adoption for my firstborn son doesn't define my love, my parenting ability, anything about me. 

Changing who I was, who I let people think that I was, sadly wasn't limited  to my teenage years.  I continued that into adulthood.  When my children were little I was the PTA volunteer, treasurer, president.  I was the go-to person for the school & teachers when they needed someone to do anything extra.  I wasn't a failure as a mother because I gave up my firstborn child, I was a wonder-mom to my raised kids.  At least that's the persona I took on when dealing with their schools.  12 years ago when my husband moved us to this tiny village where he grew up, I became The Church Lady.  The church lady who was always ready and willing to help with the funeral dinners, to teach CCD, any and everything that needed a volunteer.  I wasn't the stupid 15 year old who didn't know how to say no, who gave her child up for adoption.  I was a GOOD person damn it!!  I would have been mortified if any of my small-town friends, fellow church goers, my hubbies family who has lived here for generations, would have seen me being myself with my girlfriends.  Oh the horrors if they had seen me being the loudest laughing one in the group.  If they had seen me enjoying some Cap'n and talking way too much and way too loudly. If they heard us talking nasty or sometimes cussing like sailors ...

I no longer compartmentalize all the parts of my personality.  From the beginning of this journey of finding myself, I have tried to live an authentic life.  I'm still working on that, but Brene Brown and her wonderful website Ordinary Courage has helped me begin.  I stumbled onto an old post of hers the other day, and as I read these words:

Part of midlife is scooping up all the different versions of yourself that you’ve created to please folks, and integrating them into one whole, authentic person. This is tough work for me. I’m so good at assessing exactly who I need to be and when I need to be it. It’s really too bad that "alternating" eventually sucks your soul right out of your body.

In addition to curbing the chameleon action, the other part of integrating has been the very painful process of reconnecting with the parts of myself that I orphaned over the years. You know – the parts of ourselves that we abandon because they get in the way of who and what we need to be now.

 ..they made me realize how much I used to do that.  I also realized just how much my life has changed these last three years.  Three years ago I was the champion chameleon!  Now?

I am a million different things. 
At a million different times. 
I am ME. 
I am me with no apologies!

I'm far from being done on my journey.  I've put so much into place, but I have so much more to figure out...  But that's another story for another day!

Limbo? Acceptance? Or Something Else?

I feel as though I'm in a limbo of sorts lately. 

Christopher is a part of my life now, yet he's not.  I am a part of his life, but yet I'm not. 

Maybe the feeling of being in limbo is because this "reunion" has become so one-sided. 

I have felt a big shift in my emotions towards reunion since his surgery.  Once the fear of losing Christopher in surgery was gone, I felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off my heart.  The love is still there, bigger than ever.  But the fear, the worry?  Gone.

It was more than just the fear of losing him during the surgery though.  It's as though the fear of losing him in any way was gone.  Is this finally acceptance that he will never fully be a part of my life?  Is it finally enough to just know that he's alive, healthy, and happy? Did the fear of his death allow me to finally be at peace with him just "being out there somewhere"?  Even if that meant that he wasn't going to fully be a part of my life?  I no longer worry about sending him emails too often, or obsess over every word I write in worry that I will say something to drive him away.  I am following my heart ~ if I read or hear something I want to share with him, I do it.  When it's in my heart to let him know I'm thinking about him, hoping he's feeling better, I follow my heart now instead of worrying that it's wrong in some way.



These last few weeks have just been so strange to me.  For the first time since Jan. 16, 2009, upon finding those first emails from the search angel and Christopher, he hasn't been on my mind 24/7. He is not always the first thing I think of when I wake up, nor always the last thing I think of before falling asleep.

This feeling of... limbo is very unsettling for some reason.  There's a little voice in my head that fears it is not really acceptance ~ maybe I have instead buried my emotions regarding Christopher again.  And don't even know it... 

 Maybe it's not following my heart so much as subconsciously I don't care anymore about pushing him away?  Does a person even realize it when they are pushing someone away before they themselves can be pushed away? 

*sigh* 

This rambling is exactly why I haven't written many posts lately.  None of this probably makes any sense.  It doesn't even make sense to me!  All of my thoughts are going in circles, winding around on themselves, making it even more confusing than when I first started writing all of this out in an attempt to figure out what in the world I am or am not feeling.  If this blog post was an Excel spreadsheet, I would be getting a circular error warning!

Putting Up Walls

I had some comments on my last post that I was going to reply to, but decided to write a new post instead. 

First, about comparing reunions.  

I was generalizing in my thoughts about the different things I read at FMF.  There are many who do not fall into the "worst case scenario" when it comes to reunion, but there are many who do.  I want any expectant mother considering adoption who may stumble onto my blog to know the possibilities of "what may be" if they allow adoption into their lives.  They are not giving up their motherhood for only 18 years, it may be forever.  Reunion isn't a sure thing.  Growing a loving relationship after reunion isn't a sure thing. 

Isn't that part of what is so hard in navigating through a reunion?  There is nothing to compare to.  There are also no "rules" to follow.  When there are no rules or nothing to compare your reunion to, there is no real way to go into reunion except with trial and error.  Hopefully the error isn't enough to completely de-rail the reunion.  What works for one person will horribly fail for another.  All we can hope for is that all parties are in it for the best, and are willing to get to know each other despite ourselves.

Now for the part that has really been bothering me.

Putting up walls.

Linda said... I love the "I took the baby I gave up for adoption out of the day" comment. Once I let go of the baby who was given up for adoption (me) it really helped me. I cannot change what my Mother went through, and I cannot change what was done to me. It's taken me 45 years to get to this point.

I don't remember who it was that gave me that advice.  To take the baby I gave up out of my reunion with Christopher.  It was the best advice I received, and was a tremendous help to me when I was first navigating through reunion.  It helped me be happy to get to know the young man who Christopher is, instead of only being sad about the baby who grew up without me.  It didn't always help, there were and still are times it is impossible to take the baby out of the equation.  I love Linda's words "I cannot change what my Mother went through, and I cannot change what was done to me" ~ substitute son for mother, and it's taken me 48 years to get to this point!

lolokey said... I wasn't sure, so I went back and checked. When you met your son for your first f2f he told you one of the conditions was that you couldn't cry! Maybe you put that wall up at his request, not yours? (which by the way is a very maternal thing to do!)

Yes, that was his one condition to meeting that October day last year.  He said I couldn't cry.  Which I didn't think was going to be a problem, as I have been unable to cry in front of anyone for years.  I had become an expert at putting up the walls and not letting out my emotions.  So having Christopher put that request out there only made it more necessary for me to put and keep that wall up.  It became necessary to me to completely take that baby out of the day, in order to make it through meeting the wonderful young man without tears for the baby I lost. 

The thing that really bothers me though is that I have become so good at burying the emotions.  I feel as though it's emotionally unhealthy for me, it makes me angry at myself, it just plain drives me crazy that I don't/can't cry over all of this.  Or is it?  Am I mental (quit nodding), or is it something else?

lolokey said...I struggle with putting walls up as well. Maybe the most important thing is that we allow ourselves to feel the emotions, not beat ourselves up about when we do (or don't) feel them. Maybe we can start to learn to see our walls as a place to lean on when we need support and not use them to protect ourselves.

Is my lack of crying because I buried the tears?  Or have I actually come to a place of.... acceptance?  Maybe I need to quit beating myself up for what I think is not feeling the emotions.  I do feel love, fear, worry, etc. for Christopher, for all the loved ones in my life.  Have I been leaning on my walls, not hiding behind them?  This all sounds so stupid when I go back and read these last words.  I so wish that I was able to get the swirling thoughts out of my head and into a sentence that makes sense when written!!  I guess what I need to do is take lolokey's advice and not beat myself up for not feeling the emotions.  Because maybe that's not what's going on after all. 

*sigh*

I wish there was a guide book for all of this...

Susie