Happy 2nd Reunion Anniversary Christopher!

Two years ago yesterday I found the emails from the search angel and one from Christopher saying they were looking for me.  Two years ago today I received my first real email from Christopher.  The one that answered the questions that haunted me almost daily for nearly 30 years; was he healthy? happy? did he get good parents?

To answer your long awaiting ?'s - Yes, I'm healthy aside for gaining weight when my wife was pregnant with our son 2 years ago and never losing it : )   My parents are rock stars (not literally but they are the greatest).  And yes I'm a very happy person. 

In those first few sentences, I learned that my prayers had come true, as well as the fact that I had a grandson too!

I mailed Christopher an Anniversary card.  I can't believe I found one that was appropriate, and it had room to write "Reunion" before "Anniversary".  It was so very hard to not get too gushy when writing in the card, but I have been really trying to hold back when writing to Christopher lately.  He's been very quiet for a few months now. 

I've tried to never tell any of Christopher's story here on my blog.  I hopefully will not say too much here now.  There has been a big change in his life, which I believe is part of why he is quiet.  In December Christopher wrote to tell me that part of why he had been quiet at that point was because he had been going to several doctor appointments and was diagnosed with a pretty serious heart disease.  He has since been evaluated at Mayo Clinic, got a very reassuring report that the condition shouldn't get any worse, that it should be well controlled with medication and only minor restrictions in physical activity.  His first emails after diagnosis were very down, he couldn't help but wonder if he was going to see his kids grow up and get married, become parents.  One of my replies to him told him that he wasn't going anywhere because I had many dreams for our future ~  dreams I had never told him of because I worried I would be imposing myself onto him. 

Now, he's quiet again.  I hope that once he has had time to adjust to this change in his life, he will be back again as before.  I hope I haven't scared him off by wanting more than he is willing to give. 

I hope the jars of homemade salsa I canned last summer and mailed to him today, with the Snoopy anniversary card, warms him up to me again!


So much has changed since those first days of reunion two years ago, I feel like a completely different person.  Yet.  So much has stayed the same.  I still sometimes feel like that scared, insecure 15 year old.  Afraid of losing her son all over again.  

Acceptance?

This notebook doodle really has me thinking. 

I define my life in 3 stages.

Before Christopher

After giving him up for adoption

After reunion

Was it meant to be?  Was he not meant to stay in my life?  I do not believe in "destiny", as far as my life being pre-destined.  I don't believe that I was born to give birth to a child I could not raise.  I don't believe that Christopher was conceived by me in order for N & F to become parents.  Saying goodbye was the hardest thing I have ever done.  My life changed drastically at that point in my life.  

Then...

Saying hello again in reunion was the change that broke me down, making me more vulnerable than I ever thought possible.  There have been many times during these last (almost) two years that made me think this change was more than I could bear.  There were many times I wished I could go back into that lovely place called Denial.  In some ways being in denial was so much easier.  In reality though, this change has saved my life.  I finally had answers.  I knew my son was alive.  I saw the ways that the loss of my son, the denial of the grief from that loss, was effecting every aspect of my life.  In finally being vulnerable, by telling my story, I have found strength.  In being vulnerable, I have begun to finally live an authentic life.  

In the weeks after Thanksgiving, I had come to realize there is another change that is necessary for my well-being.  I needed to accept that my "fantasy" reunion is just that.  It is a fantasy.  The reality of our reunion is a happy one.  We have discovered that we have a lot in common.  We have answered many questions for each other.  Christopher came into this reunion only wanting info, yet he quickly said he wanted "more".  Even though he does not email frequently anymore, he will reply when I send him one.  We are Facebook friends.  This is so much more than I ever thought I would have.  

The change I have made is that instead of praying for Christopher to want "more", I have been praying for acceptance.  Acceptance for what is.  I have felt at peace with this for a couple of weeks now.  I cannot change the way Christopher feels (or doesn't feel) about me, but I can change the way I look at our reunion, our relationship.  

I still have hopes for our relationship to grow deeper in the future.  I still yearn to see photos of him as a child, photos of him growing up.  I still pray that some day I will get to meet his family, that I will have a chance to know my grandchildren.  I will always hope that some day Christopher will want "more"; in his own time, not mine.  I accept where we are at right now.  I rejoice in what we have right now.  

Acceptance of what I have versus what I dream of is a welcome change to my weary heart and soul.

The "change" that reunion brought into my life became too much for me to bear as it had been.  I believe that this latest change, acceptance, is the only thing that saved my sanity through the holidays and now into this new year.

As long as we are seeking something, 

be it a state of being or something material, 

we will always be seeking. 

When we stop and accept what ever it is we are seeking, 

we allow the experience of it.

Holiday Blues

Last year was my first Thanksgiving and Christmas after reuniting with Christopher.  It made the holidays so much sweeter ~ KNOWING that my son was alive, healthy, and happy.  I have always loved the holidays, despite the fact that my firstborn son was missing from the family celebrations, but last year the holidays were true celebrations.

This year I found myself with underlying sadness as we celebrated Thanksgiving.  I thought it was partly because I hadn't heard from Christopher for a couple of weeks. 

The sadness still clings.  Yes, I am so happy and thankful that I now have Christopher in my life.  Yet...

I don't. 

I'm sad.  And mad.  That my firstborn child is not my child.  I am his mom, yet I am not.  Why is the knowing not enough?  Why does my heart want, need, more? 

I thought it would get easier.  It's getting harder.

I want to celebrate Christmas with my family.  ALL of my family.  This holiday season I am feeling the loss of Christopher so much more than I ever have.  He's no longer "the baby I had to give up".  He is an actual person.  Christopher.  A husband and a wonderful father.  An artist.  Who lives four and a half hours east of me.  Whose life is complete with his adoptive family.  

My life has not been complete since May 8th, 1979.  You would think I would be used to this by now.

Thank God that November is Over!

This month has been a tough one. 

I started out the month thinking I would post every day for the Adoption BeAwareness Month.  It was too draining to try to get the words out of my head every day. 

A month of inescapable stories about the wonders of adoption.  The stories that began to feel like stabs straight to the heart.  Adoption ~ the loving option.  Yeah.  Loving.  That's EXACTLY what has been brought into my life because of adoption.  Adoption brought anything but love into my life.  Loss of my son, grief, denial, self-doubt, self-hatred.  Those are just a few of the things adoption brought into my life.

I have come to hate November.  The fact that Thanksgiving is in the month makes it even worse.  Thanksgiving used to be one of my favorite holidays.  But thankful and adoption do not belong in the same sentence, much less month.  Don't get me wrong, I am so very thankful for the blessings my son has had with his adoptive family, I am thankful we have been reunited.  But there is nothing thankful about the fact that adoption is a part of my life 

The Next Step In Finding Myself

This is from a post on a non-adoption related blog I follow.

This is a post that pushed me to take the next step in dealing with all my locked-up emotions.

This is a post that enabled me to finally call the therapist I found in July. 

I have been trying to find myself, the "me" that was before adoption entered my life.  I really don't think that girl exists anymore, but I hope at least a part of her does.

I know I need help, I need someone to help me open up things I have buried deep.  I need someone to help me cry again.  I need to get all of this sadness and grief out of my head and heart.

How sad that I need to go talk to a stranger to feel safe enough to open up.  Safe enough to "be", instead of stuffing everything inside. 

I'm scared to death, yet at the same time looking forward to continuing this journey towards living an authentic life.  I have overcome my fear of letting people know about Christopher, I was able to overcome the fear of what people might think of me because I was a teen-age mom who gave her son up for adoption.

Now I need to overcome my fear of myself.  The fear of my own emotions.  Or maybe my fear of even having emotions?  Again, I am not finding the words to express my thoughts, my fears. My fear that if I begin to open up to all the emotions I have buried for so long that I will lose myself.  I will lose myself in the huge, gaping hole in my heart.  The gaping hole left from the loss of my son to adoption.

Same Story, Different Story

In every adoption story, there are at least three, usually many more, completely different points of view.  The natural parents and their extended families, the adoptive parents and their extended families, and the adoptee.

Points of view that often change over time. 

I myself have had three different "stories" about adoption.  One before adoption entered my life, one during my son's childhood & early adulthood, and yet another after reunion.  I went from seeing adoption as a way to save my son from the life I was living, to seeing adoption as causing a deep and painful hole in my heart and soul ~ yet at the same time as "the right thing for teen moms to do", to now realizing that everything possible should be done to honor and keep the mother and child bond intact ~ no matter the age, marital status, etc.  I believe that the only time infant adoption should happen is when the mother fully and truly has NO desire to raise a child, or if abuse or neglect is part of the equation. 

One of my biggest worries when first in reunion with Christopher was that I would say something that I meant as something good, but he would take it as something hurtful or mean.  In the beginning of our reunion, he said some things that I know were said only in kindness and maybe love, but to me they were not. 

That is what originally led me to start reading blogs by adoptive parents and adoptees.  I did not want to say anything that would hurt my son more than I may already have. 

I still struggle with those worries with Christopher.  I also try to be mindful of that when writing blog posts and commenting on other blogs and forums.  Since I have not been in the shoes of an adoptee or adoptive parent, I cannot know how something innocent to me may be harmful to another. 

Because, after all,  we do not see things as they are ~ we see things as we are.  We see things through our own points of view, our own life stories.  


I know there have been times I have responded in anger and/or hurt from something said by one of the other sides of adoption.  I need to be more aware of my words when posting with anger or grief.  

I also need to remember to not take on the views by other adoptees as the views my son may have.  My last couple of posts have been proof of that need. 

Everyone is on their own adoption journey.  All sides of the so-called adoption triad.  All in their own places in the adoption/reunion.  All coming with their own life-experiences effecting their outlook on life and adoption.

Everyone with their own hurts, their own blessings, their own truths.  

I do not want to be the cause of hurt to anyone because of my words.  There is enough hurt in adoption.

I have bookmarked this simple, yet wonderful reminder that my truth is just that.  Mine. 

When Others Want You To Stay In The Closet

  From a blog post I read recently:

Additionally, and slightly more profound for me, is that I actually married a man that kept me closeted as well. I was not conscious of this of course but it became painfully obvious when I started to tip toe out of the birthmother closet and he rushed to put me back in. This too was my own doing. I did not want to deal openly with my own horrors so I sought loved ones who helped me keep the door closed.

That's me.  Exactly.  I didn't even know it until I read these words.  

When I read the above blog post comment, it was a HUGE ah-ha moment for me.  I am scared to death to fully come out of that closet in real life.  I am scared about my relationships that are built on the lies of denial.  Scared to open my heart, only to be hurt.  I am allowing the people in my life who are not comfortable with my coming out of the closet to keep me there. 

For the last year or so, I have been slowly creeping back into that closet.  Slowly closing my heart off again.  Scared to completely open up my heart to my son because I worry that he doesn't want or need it.  Scared to open up to my family (specifically my husband and in-laws ~ who are more like parents to me than my own) because I fear that they won't understand it, or worse ~ that they don't care to understand. 

When my son and I first reunited 20 months ago, I wanted to stand on the highest hills and scream to the world that my son was alive and well.  That I had four, not three children.  It felt so freeing to be able to talk about him, to acknowledge my true identity, not the lies I had been living for almost 30  years.  

Then I started getting the mixed reactions from people.  People that said they were happy for me, yet uncomfortable talking about my son.  The people that told me what a wonderful thing I had done.  The people that responded to my deep desire to meet Christopher in person by telling me that I had to remember that I gave him up, that I had to honor that.  The people that were confused by me calling him my son, since I didn't raise him.  

I hate the lies adoption is based on.  I hate that I am 47 years old, yet in so many ways I am still that stupid 15 year old.  I hate that I am scared to do what I know I must do in order to claim my sanity.  In order to heal from all that adoption has brought into my life.  From all that adoption has taken from my life. 

Tornadoes of Thoughts

So many things about adoption and reunion cause tornadoes of thoughts for me.  I often find myself with contradicting thoughts swirling through my head.

One of them is regret.  On the one hand, I deeply regret giving my son up for adoption.  Oh, how I would love to go back and be able to raise Christopher.  What I wouldn't give to be able to do that.  But then, would I be denying him the life he has had?  Does my wishing I had raised him say that I would deny him the family he grew up with & loves?

Another thing I often wish is that he felt something for me, or maybe something more.  I don't want to speak for him, but I don't think he feels much for me because he has no desire to meet in person.  On the one hand it hurts to know that he does not feel a desire to "know" me.  But then the swirling begins and I think that it's a good thing that he doesn't.  I'm glad that he did not live his life feeling a huge void because of me.  It would be so hard to know that he grew up hurting because of me ~ I never wanted to hurt him.

Then there's my mom.  I wish that she was still alive so she could know about my reunion with Christopher.  On the other hand, I'm glad that I don't have to work through all of my reunion stuff with her too.  I don't think I could tell her the truth about why I really gave him up.  How do you tell your mother that she was a huge part in you losing your child??  No matter how ugly things were, she was my mom & I love her ~ I would never want to hurt her.

Sometimes I feel like Dorothy ~

Coming Out Of The Fog

I started a draft of this post a week or more ago, but I couldn't find the words to say what I really wanted to.  I will never get my thoughts out as well as Cassi does in this post that inspired me to come back & give it another try.  It never ceases to amaze me when I find other first moms that speak the words of my heart.  Sadly, it appears that most first moms share much of the same story...

In the  first 6 weeks or so after reunion, I was so extremely happy.  I felt like a different person.  I truly have never in my life felt so... complete and at peace.  

This sounds really corny,  but at times it felt as though my heart would burst open with love.  I felt more love for my husband, my raised kids, everybody.  It was like the door that I had closed that afternoon at the hospital was swung wide open and torn off the hinges.  It was during those first few weeks that I realized how much I had shut down my emotions, how much I had closed myself off.  

I was amazed that people didn't ask why I was so different.  Didn't ask why I was so happy.  A few of my close friends did notice, but I thought it had to seem obvious to everyone how different I was.  During the first couple of months into reunion I also lost 20 pounds ~ effortlessly.  

I had such a turn-around of so many beliefs I had held in the almost 30 years since giving Christopher up.  I never really allowed myself to think of him as my son.  He was the baby I couldn't raise.  I loved him & missed him always, but had never allowed myself to be his "mom", never allowed him to be my son.  

Before reunion, I truly felt as though I was simply an egg donor and an incubator.  I was just a birthmother (although I have never liked that name).  I didn't know or understand why that name bothered me, but it did.  

At first, when reunion was new, I worried about what Christopher's parents thought.  I felt that if I was starting to come between him and his parents in any way that I would have to back off our reunion.  I didn't want to come between Christopher and his parents.  I felt like I was the outsider who had no rights to interfere in their family.  

Before reunion, probably even a few weeks into reunion, I held the belief that young moms should give their children up for adoption in order to give the child a chance at a better life with parents that were ready & able to be parents.  It saddened me to see young moms keep their babies, thinking that they were being selfish and not putting the babies best interest first.  (I did not ever promote adoption, as I wanted nobody else to have to know the pain & loss that I did.)  

I held the belief that I was stupid.  Stupid for having allowed things to go too far & becoming pregnant that first time.  Stupid for having to give my baby up for adoption.   

About six or seven weeks into reunion, I started to have thoughts and feelings that contradicted everything I had believed for almost 30 years.  

~ I realized that the love I felt for Christopher was no different than the love I felt for my raised children.  I started thinking of myself as Christopher's mom.  Completely.  
~ I started to think that it didn't matter what Christopher's parents thought about our reunion.  Reunion was between him and I.  Nobody else.  
~ I realized that I was not stupid.  I did the best I could as a 15 year old with nobody looking out for my best interest.  
~ I realized that the reason I hated the term birthmother was because it belittled who I was in my son's life.  I did not stop being his mother at birth ~ I would always be his mother.  
~ I started to become heartbroken at the thought of young moms giving their children up for adoption.  Knowing how their life is forever altered, forever broken, without their child.  I realized how strong & important the mother/child bond is.  I realized it is something to be treasured & cared for, not torn apart.  Not only for the mother, but also for the child. 
 
When I first started having these realizations, I wondered what was wrong with me.  Why was I suddenly feeling so angry about everything?  What was wrong with me??  Was I finally losing my mind??

Thank God for cyber-space!  I found blogs & a forum where other first moms spoke of the same feelings.  I was not going crazy!  Everything I was feeling was "normal".  

I realized just how deep my denial went.  I realized that in order to be able to go on with life, my mind went into "safety" mode.  I truly believe that if I had faced just how deep the grief over the loss of my son to adoption went, I could not have survived the first few years.  I would have become one of the statistics of first moms that become alcoholics, drug addicts, or suicide victims.  

The last 20 months have been very hard, so very wonderful, but so very difficult.  I am a grown woman, and it has been life changing.  I cannot imagine how my 15 year old self, with nobody to help through the reality of adoptions effects, could have survived loss so great without going into denial. 


I still have a lot of work to do as far as healing my heart & soul from the loss of my son, from the years lived in denial.  I know I need to find somebody to talk to, I need some counseling to help me get through this.  To find strength and believe in myself after living so many years feeling "not good enough" to be my son's mother.  Sadly, there is nobody in my area that helps with adoption loss.  My one attempt, about the time I started realizing the truth about my loss, was a complete waste of time.  The details of that one session will probably become a blog post someday.

Since reunion, adoption is on my mind almost 24/7.  I cannot concentrate on anything to save my life.  I am so distracted at work, at home.  I used to read books all the time.  I can't read anything longer than a magazine article anymore.  I have gained back the 20 pounds, plus another 20, in the last 18 months.  My house is a mess.  I don't even enjoy things I used to.  I love quilting.  Now I can't even force myself to finish several projects I have in various states of being done.  It has been months since I've turned on my sewing machine. 

There have been many times I almost found myself wanting to go back into the fog, into the denial.  In so many ways it would be easier.  But I refuse to live a lie any longer.  I refuse to hide the love I have for my son again.  It would kill me to live another day of not knowing where Christopher is or how he and his family are doing.  The great joys of knowing my son far outweigh the hard work that reunion has brought into my life. 


I am so glad that I have been able to begin shedding all the lies and untruths about myself, about adoptions effects on my life.  I am so glad that I found all the other first moms on-line that have helped me begin to find myself again.

Happy Adoption Story?

You could say, if you had to label it, that my adoption story is a good one, maybe even great.  After my son was born, I did go on to have a great life.  I went back to my high school & old job the fall after I had my son, resumed my life as a typical teenager.  It was only eight months after I had Christopher that I met my husband, who I have now been married to for over 27 years.  We have three children, and 6 (soon to be 7!) grandchildren.  I get to see my kids & grandkids almost every day, as our grown children both chose to live close to us.  I have more friends than one could hope for, a job that I love, a beautiful home, more blessings than I could ever deserve.

(I don't mean to speak for my son, but the following are things he has said regarding his life.)  Christopher was adopted by wonderful parents, he had a big sister (also adopted) who doted on him also.  He lived a small town life ~ full of extended family that loved him too.  He wanted for nothing, says he had a "Leave It To Beaver" childhood.  He participated in sports and other extra curricular activities, he was taught to work hard, was raised in a Christian church, enjoyed the family cabin on the lake every summer, was sent to college.  He received everything that I ever dreamed for him, and so much more.  He got married to the love of his life after graduating from college, and they are now parents to a son & a daughter. 

Our lives however, are not the makings of a fairy tale.  Even though our lives could be portrayed by some as a positive, happy, adoption-is-wonderful, story.  Adoption is built on loss.  I lost a child, grandchildren, a life of loving on them.  Christopher lost his natural parents, his geneology, his ancestry. 

If I had not been dealing with such a tremendous loss, would I have been a better student?  A better employee?  A better friend, wife, mother to my raised children, better to myself?

If Christopher had been raised by me, would his life really have been that much different?  He may not have had a father in his life at first, but I believe that I still would have met & fallen in love with my husband.  He would have been a great father to Christopher.  Perhaps if I had raised him, he would have brought some happiness and love into our house ~ my parents became excellent grandparents just 2 1/2 years later when my daughter was born.  They are far better grandparents than they ever were parents.  Christopher may not have had a vacation home on a lake, but he would have had his entire natural family, his history.  He would have had his 3 siblings in his life, his nephew & nieces...

This post is a jumbled mess of thoughts, really going nowhere.  The point I want to make is that even though ours is a "good" story, it is in spite of adoption entering our lives, not because of it.  I did not go on to have a better life because I wasn't "burdened" with a child.  Christopher may well have had just as great, maybe even better life, if he had never been given away.  That is one thing we will never know.

So, even though I have gone on to have so many blessings in my life.  Even though my son seems to have had a wonderful life with his adoptive parents.  Even so, I would not wish my life as a first mom on anybody ~ even my worst enemy.  Adoption was a permanent solution to my temporary problem. 

Little did I know that adoption would become a much bigger permanent problem in the end.