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? 

Is your unmarried/young daughter pregnant?

Then I have some reading for you!  Danielle at "Another Version of Mother" writes a fabulous post for the Open Adoption Roundtable #35 regarding Grandparents.  Do yourself, your daughter, and your grandchild a favor and go read this blog post.  Then read it again. 

Open Adoption Roundtable #35: Grandparents

 

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...

Pit of Despair

The comment left by Suz on my last post has reminded me of something.  Suz said about the emotions of losing her child to adoption:

I am TERRIFIED of their power. I am afraid if I really let them out, really cried, the weak hold I have on reality would be gone for ever.

Last year as I was trying to work through yet another layer of adoption loss, I was finding myself terrified of the deep grief I was beginning to acknowledge.  It was so deep, so...  all-consuming.  I was at a loss of how to even describe it.  One day I was reading a post over at Suz's blog "Writing My Wrongs",  where she described being at an adoption-related conference and finding herself being swept down into a pit of despair, and thankfully someone behind her noticed her distress and put their hand on her shoulder, helping pull her back to reality.  (I tried to go find that post, but kept finding myself lost in reading other old posts of hers and losing track of time so I gave up.  If somehow you don't know Suz's blog, you need to check it out!) 

I so clearly remember reading her words about the fear of that pit of despair, and it was as though I was reading an exact description of the fear I hadn't been able to put words to. That fear of falling into the depths of my grief became very overwhelming last fall, it was with me constantly.  (Brought on I'm sure by the beautiful October day that I finally got to meet Christopher in person.) 

I don't know what the point to this post is, I guess I just found myself lost in the remembering about the deep fear of losing myself to the grief.  It's still there ~ the fear of falling into that pit.  Somehow I was able to bury it again, to not be overwhelmed with it.  I wish I could find somebody who could help me safely face an express the grief.  I feel as Suz speaks of in her comment:

Its a safety mechanism for me. A protection of my mind and soul and life I live today. In saying that I realize that approach has an effect on this life, but negatively effecting my life and still living is better than not living at all. I hope that some day I can truly get through it all, somehow, someway, with a safe person that I can be confident will get me through the agony and pull me out to the other side. Until that day comes, it stays in side and seeps out every now and then.

So maybe I need to stop thinking of my inability to cry as something wrong, and think of it as something keeping me safe until I am able to face those deep emotions.  Now if only I could find a way to do that...


Susie

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

Thoughts from First Mother Forum

Over at First Mother Forum there have been some great posts about adoption reunion.  If any of you reading here don't know about this wonderful blog, you need to go check it out, it's one of my favorites.  The blog posts are great, the comments on them are just as good.  Several things on these recent posts had me wanting to comment, so I thought I would just write about them here. 

We natural mothers long for a kind of normalcy with our reunited daughters and sons that we cannot have. What has gone on before will not allow it.

Oh how I long for "normalcy".  Even though I know normalcy is unrealistic ~adoption takes away any sense of normal.  Adoption is not normal...

A comment from Von:  I think we all long for normalcy, but for many adoptees, most if not all, it is not possible, never will be because of the loss which reunion never 'cures', makes up for or deletes.  How to trust someone who walked out on us?

I hope that Christopher trusts me.  I hope he believes my promise to only be honest with him, no matter what he may ask.  I hope he knows that I won't ever walk out on him again.  (Just had a thought ~ maybe he thinks it isn't a good thing that he will never be rid of me!  Poor kid is stuck with me forever!)

Kristie says: I don't believe that adoptees go "in and out", "advance and retreat". We just live as we always have, not knowing where exactly we belong, trying to protect ourselves all along the way.

 So how exactly does any reunion go smoothly? If both of us are trying to protect ourselves along the way?  How do we get "beyond" that?  God, what I wouldn't give to be able to sit down with Christopher and have an honest to goodness "heart to heart" and just get it all out there without either of us taking anything the wrong way, without either of us hearing something in a hurtful way when it's not meant to be hurtful. Maybe one day...

Kristi says: But the reality is that .... For you, we are that missing part of yourself that was ripped from your body. To us, you are a curiosity - "who, what, why, when, how and where" is what we really want to know. 

This is something I wish that every expectant mother considering adoption could know, I mean really and truly KNOW.  I wish that I could have known this before reunion, before my heart went all out crazy thinking I had my son fully back in my life.  Not all adoptees feel this way, but many do.  Then there are the adoptees who do not feel this way, but will never let us know differently out of fear of being rejected again.  Or out of fear of being unloyal to the mothers who raised them.  This is a possibility that we must be ready for though ~ we may only be to our sons and daughters the answers to long wondered questions.  They already have a mom who they love and who fully loves our sons and daughters in return.  Our sons and daughters may never have had, may never have, a need for a mother/son mother/daughter relationship with us.  I've touched on this topic before ~ I'm not saying it's "wrong" for an adopted person to feel this way, it's just a possible truth in adoption.

 "We cannot sustain a loving heart in a constant state of confusion and imbalance. We start setting up our own protective walls."

I have done that. Built the walls. Again. The love I feel for Christopher, that I can't express, because some don't understand ~ and worse, the others who don't care to try to understand. It's just too much sometimes to deal with ~ it's easier if I push it down, bury it, keep it hidden behind those protective walls. I wish that it could be like it was when first in reunion again...  I find myself hiding the depths of my feelings from Christopher himself.  Sadly, I think I started building up the walls at a time that most people would begin tearing them down.  On the day that we were finally going to meet in person for the first time.  The only way I knew I would be able to make it without crying is if I wouldn't let the reality of the moment sink in.  So I buried it.  Made the meeting "less than" in my mind.  And heart.  I didn't allow myself to think about the past, I took the baby I gave up for adoption out of the day.  I was simply meeting the young man I had been happily getting to know through many emails.  I hate that I did that.  I hate that my "survival mode" is so strong that it could take over such a huge moment in my life.  I hate to admit this to myself, much less put it out there in writing.  (I will be surprised if I don't erase this last bit before posting!)

 From a comment, which sums this all up so very well (my emphasis): 

..This, I believe, is not intentional on most people's parts. It is part of the dysfunction of adoption. What happened to us was so incredibly unnatural. In more civilized societies, children and parents would never be legally banned from knowing each other even if other people are doing the upbringing of the child. The inhumanity is damaging and reunification is anything but simple.

-Mara

Smashing Fun House Mirrors

I often find myself identifying with the words of other first moms.  It used to be such a surprise to me that someone else felt the way I did about or because of adoption loss.  I am no longer surprised when I read the words of my heart and soul expressed by another mother.

I am often surprised though when I read the words of an adoptee and find myself identifying with something they have written regarding adoptions effects on them.  Kevin Hofmann's latest post "Smashing Fun House Mirrors" had me surprised again.  Kevin is speaking about his experience as a panel member at a camp for teen adoptees.

As another panel member was speaking, Kevin found his mind wandering ~

 I was still part of the conversation but preoccupied with other thoughts.

 About 10-12 beautiful adoptees sat in front of me ranging from ages 13-17,  and mostly female.  The thought that keep bouncing around in my head made me sad and very reflective.  I wondered if the kids knew just how beautiful and special they all were.  Churning over and over in my head was the thought of myself at their age.  That split from my first mother played itself out over and over and over in friendships and relationships in ways that I was blinded to at their age but in ways that are so clear to me today.  The fracture of the very first relationship I ever had tilted every other relationship since then.

After I gave birth to my firstborn son and walked out of that hospital alone, I felt as though I was a different person.  A broken and fractured person who would never be whole again.  The split from my son played itself out over and over again later in my own life as a parenting mother.  I was blinded to it when my children were young, but now that I have "come out of the fog" of my adoption loss, I see it.  I see many places where the fracture of the very first maternal relationship I ever had tilted my relationships with not only my raised children, but with most of the people in my life.
  

The subtle whispering that crept through my thoughts convinced me of a picture of myself far different than was actually there.  It was as if I stood in front of a fun house mirror everyday and the image that reflected back to me was distorted.  It was this image that I took with me everyday that told me I wasn’t good enough; I wasn’t worthy.  This image and subliminal understanding affected how I interacted with people.  It created an invisible line that I rarely would cross.  My relationships and friendships were superficial and kept at a safe distance.  This protected me from the rejection that I feared and came accustomed to expect.  If I only waded in to relationships, I couldn’t be drowned by the rejection that was sure to follow.  So I stood back, and watched as others formed deeper relationships and wondered why I couldn’t do the same.  I wondered why my emotional roots only went down so far and others had deep strong giant oak-like roots that drew people in and hugged them.  

From the very moment I gave birth, when my son was no longer "of me", I felt exactly as Kevin wrote above.  Kevin is speaking from the break with his mother, but his words also speak for me from the break with my firstborn child.

I did not realize how much the loss of Christopher effected my life until we were reunited.  The day I read the emails from the search angel and Christopher changed my life.  For the first time in almost 30 years my heart was flooded with love.  It was as though my heart opened wide and was finally able to fully accept love from others and also fully give my love to others.  I was finally able to acknowledge the deep and never ending love I felt for the child I gave up, the child that society told me I should have been able to forget.  I felt as though my heart was too big to stay contained within my chest.  I realized that I had even been holding myself back from fully loving or being loved by my husband and children.

This post by Kevin really hit me hard.  It has taken me several days of pondering to even attempt to write about.  Not only because of the parallels that it held for me in my life as a first mom, but also because of the raw emotions it brought to me regarding the children we gave up.

It is so hard to know that what I chose as the "best thing" for my son could have caused such deep problems instead.  It cuts me to the quick when I learn of an adoptee who has the deep wound of feeling unworthy because their mother gave them up for adoption.  For I am "one of them" ~ the mothers who caused those wounds.

As I continued to read, I became inspired by Kevin's words.  By his realization of the teens' altered self-images and the fact that he wanted to share with them the truth of their images.

The fun house mirror that I constantly struggle with is making house calls to generations behind me and I wanted to stand up and tell one adoptee at a time that the reduced image of themselves was altered.  The image that I see of them stands taller, is more capable, is funnier, kinder, more powerful, and their REAL potential is so bright it was burning my corneas.
I wanted to shout down the whispers that began at that initial separation from their first mother that says they are not good enough.  I wanted to summon all the strength I’ve gained from my own powerful introspection and use it to strangle the exterior coy messages that support those whispers.

“They are better than the image they see,” 

What a wonderful message Kevin.  I wish that all of the teens in your groups, that all adoptees struggling because of the loss of their natural families could know that.

I think this is also a great message for mothers considering adoption ~ if they could see their true image then perhaps it would keep an infant with their image intact. 

If you aren't a reader of Kevin's blog "My Mind On Paper", please go read this entire post, you won't be disappointed.

Susie

Father Thomas Brosnan; Through a Priest's Adopted Eyes

Tonight I found myself lost in reading the words of a Catholic Priest who was adopted as an infant.

Father Tom Brosnan, B.A.,M.Div.,M.F.A. who is an international speaker and writer. Father Brosnan has advocated for adopted persons, who seek the same civil rights as their non-adopted peers --- access to their original birth certificates. Father Brosnan understands the search for origins as “a religious experience, a pilgrimage of self knowledge, a holy endeavor.” In September, 2001, Father Brosnan received the Angels in Adoption Award presented by the Congress of the United States.

Father Brosnan was told he was adopted at 12 years of age, searched for and found his natural parents when he was 32 years old.  He was in reunion with his mother for 10 years before she died, and is in contact with his 6 maternal siblings. He also found and met his father, who denies his parentage of Fr. Brosnan.

I was rather surprised that Fr. Brosnan is an active priest, yet speaks out (beautifully) about the wrongs of closed adoptions and records ~ which the Catholic Church advocates for.  He speaks of the "lies" in adoption also.  I was completely surprised to find myself lost in the writings of a Catholic Priest!

Below are links to transcripts of some of the speeches Fr. Brosnan has given. 

Through A Priest's Adopted Eyes

More Adoption Related Posts By Father Brosnan

Susie

I was reading the words of an adoptee the other day, I read these words and found myself nodding in agreement:

No one believes me that my mother is an ordinary woman. An ordinary person who cares for her children. But that can’t be true, because she gave me up. So she loved me enough to give me up but not enough to keep me – yet she’s “okay” because she kept her other children – but because she kept her other children and didn’t keep me, she’s seen as an abnormal woman.

She gave me up and kept two others, so there is something wrong with her. She didn’t love me enough, she loved me selflessly, she loves me but just not as much as her other children, she was foolish for not being able to take care of me, etc etc.

 It took me a few days of reading and re-reading this post to figure out what exactly had me going back to it.

It's no wonder that the average Joe has these beliefs about mothers who have given a child up for adoption.  I myself believed these things for many years.  I didn't think I was "good enough" when parenting my raised children because after all, I had given my firstborn child away.  There was something wrong with me because I was stupid enough to get pregnant so young in the first place, then to top it off I gave him up for adoption ~ making my "mistake" even worse.  How could anyone look at me as an "ordinary woman" when I had failed my firstborn son so badly??  How could I ever be considered to be a good mom to my raised children when I had failed my firstborn so badly??  I doomed him to be an illegitimate child, to life as an adoptee.  I told myself that I chose adoption out of love for him ~ but if I really loved him, wouldn't I have done everything possible to raise him?  I didn't even know if he really did get that "better life", if he really did have great parents who were better than I could have been.  How could I have put such blind trust in complete strangers? Is there anything less "ordinary" than that for a mother? 

I still found myself going back to Mei-Ling's post with an unsettled feeling.  I went back to read the post yet again, and saw it this time:

Granted, when I see the statement “a mother kept one child but gave up the other[s]“, it does make me wonder. All the intellect in the world doesn’t matter when semantics come into play. And oh lord, does it ever make me hurt for the day the relinquished child will discover their mother kept siblings. Because I know how it feels, and it can be excruciatingly painful to witness that, to have to live with the knowledge that you were given up but your siblings weren’t, so you’re automatically deemed as less worthy. I know how it feels to be an outcast, to be fed crumbs and know you only get those crumbs out of pity.

…..

Case in point: If my mother woke up tomorrow and got in a traffic accident on her way to work and ended up in a hospital overnight with a severe brain injury, how would I know?

Quite simple: I wouldn’t. Because I was relinquished and I’m not part of the “real” family over there in the way my kept and raised siblings have been.

…..

Because a mother who has given up a child and who ultimately kept her other children, is not worthy. Our brains give us all the legitimate, politically correct terms the whole wide world has to offer, but at the heart of it all, the raw truth is that it translates to:

Your mother didn’t care enough.

 
That was it.  The fear I had about reunion.  The fear that my son would one day find out I had gone on and raised three children after I gave him up.  I was so very fearful that he would be angry about that.  So fearful that he would hate me for that. I was terrified that Christopher would think that I didn't care enough. 

This one single post of Mei-Ling's touched on so many things for me.  So many of the beliefs I had for so many years after giving my son up, beliefs that changed dramatically after we were reunited. 

And so this gives free rein to the stereotypes, the misconceptions. This gives others the mindset that they can say whatever they want, no matter how true or false or exaggerated it may be. Because all they see is:

Mother gave up her child and kept the other children.

And they think:

Who does that?!

No one cares to know, either.

Because the truth, intellect doesn’t matter. No amount of intellectual explanation matters. The law says she didn’t have enough money. The law says she didn’t have any support. The law says “You need to realize not all parents can care for their kids.” The law says “We shouldn’t have to give a damn about parents who end up in situations where they can’t care for their kids.” The law says “That’s your explanation, we found good parents for you, so what’s your problem? Your mother couldn’t care for you. Not our fault.”

Christopher did get great parents, he did have a great childhood ~ so what's my problem? 

And then, coincidentally, the law says “Other people wish to become parents. Other people want a child to love.” That’s the explanation.

Adoption narrative: The law says “We shouldn’t have to give a damn about parents who end up in situations where they can’t care for their kids.” -> And then, coincidentally, the law says “Other people wish to become parents.”

I hope and pray that through this blog a mother facing an unexpected pregnancy may find the information to make a TRULY and FULLY informed decision for or against adoption.  I hope and pray that these mothers will find the resources to learn about how adoption will really effect herself and the precious child she is carrying, that she can be directed to the support she needs to keep her family intact.  It is not only the natural parents who are deceived by the adoption industry, it is also the adoptive parents who are not told the truths of adoption.  I hope that people can come to realize that the adoption industry and our laws regarding domestic infant adoption in the U.S. are not about a mother, about the family, needing to be cherished and preserved.  DIA has become about the attorneys and agencies ensuring their multi-billion dollar incomes through the women and men who want to add a child to their family through adoption. 

After seeing what I have seen on the blogosphere, and the amount of discussion pertaining to the intellectual and semantic conflicts in adoption, the question is no longer: If my mother loved me, why did she give me up?

I know my mother loved me. I looked her in the eye and I knew she loved me, without any outside influence.

The question is now:

My mother loved me. So why wasn’t she supported to keep me?

I hope and pray that Christopher does truly know how much

I always have and always will love him.

Susie

 

"You Haven't Seen The Last Of Me"

I LOVE the movie Burlesque!  I was listening to the soundtrack this morning as I was getting ready for work. 

As I listened to the song "You Haven't Seen The Last of Me", I immediately thought of a friend from an on-line forum I belong to.  She has taken a break from the forum, as the happy-dappy adoption attitudes and the ap's who like to label us as "bitter birthmoms" have taken their toll on her.   I then thought of all of us strong women who are surviving adoption loss ~ the moms and the adoptees.  For I believe that we ARE strong, even when we are feeling weak.   And that is why I am so very thankful for all of the on-line friends I have met in adoption blog-land.  When I am feeling weak, feeling brought down to my knees and past the point of breaking, all of them, all of you lift me back up again ~ you are my strength until I can stand up on my own again! 

"You Haven't Seen The Last Of Me"

Feeling broken
Barely holding on
But just there's something so strong
Somewhere inside me.
And I am down, but I'll get up again.
Don't count me out just yet

I've been brought down to my knees
And I've been pushed right past the point of breaking,
But I can take it.
I'll be back -
Back on my feet
This is far from over
You haven't seen the last of me.
You haven't seen the last of me.

They can
Say that
I won't stay around
But I'm gonna stand my ground
You're not gonna stop me.
You don't know me, you don't know who I am.
Don't count me out so fast.

I've been brought down to my knees
And I've been pushed
right past the point of breaking,
But I can take it.
I'll be back -
Back on my feet
This is far from over
You haven't seen the last of me.
There will be no fade-out
This is not the end
I'm down now
But I'll be standing on top again.
Times are hard but
I was built tough.
I'm gonna show you all what I'm made of.

I've been brought down to my knees
I've been pushed
right past the point of breaking,
But I can take it.
I'll be back -
Back on my feet
This is far from over

I am far from over...

You haven't seen the last of me.

No, no,
I'm not going nowhere.
I'm staying right here!
Oh no,
You won't see me beg
I'm not taking my bow
Can't stop me
It's not the end
You haven't seen the last of me
Oh no
You haven't seen the last of me
You haven't seen the last of me

(Doll ~ I'm so thankful for FaceBook ~ I wasn't ready to see the last of you!)

Susie

Alone ~ Words of Anguish

A friend of mine from a forum for moms wrote a beautifully haunting post the other day.  I can't get it out of my head.  I asked her for permission to post it here, as I think it is something that needs to be read by many.

My opinions on adoption loss, as well as my stance on family preservation are often said to be irrelevant.  My opinion, the opinions of other mothers who lost children to adoption decades ago, are dismissed as not relevant because "adoption is different" now.  That is a whole different post though.  This post is about the loss experienced by "new" mothers of adoption loss being no different than those of us who have lived with it for decades.  It is painful, it is agonizing.  How anyone can dismiss the grief of another is beyond me.

Here are the words of a mother who lost her child to adoption just over two years ago.

I feel so alone now,
The days pass by so slowly.
I feel I have been left behind,
Forgotten and pushed to the back of your mind,
The gift I gave you,
Has taken a huge toll
On my mind, body, spirit, and soul.
I alone paid the price,
Made the ultimate sacrifice.
And you were the only ones with something to gain,
I'm the one left with the pain.
The days drag on,
Until each one combines into the next one.

And I feel so alone, 

I feel so alone...

How do the adoptive parents make you feel?

As a mother who placed, how do the adoptive parents make you feel?

This question was asked on a forum I belong to recently.  Normally I ignore most of the adoption questions there, but for some reason this one keeps coming back to me.  When an idea or thought gets stuck in my head, it usually means it is something that I need to deal with for some reason.

One of the reasons I started to write and blog about my adoption story was because I was having such a hard time putting my thoughts and feelings into words.  I often felt like I just had a bunch of random words and bits of thoughts swirling like a tornado in my brain.  When I would try to put them into a cohesive thought or sentence, I couldn't.  It's like I had spent so many years, decades, hiding from the thoughts and feelings about my son and his adoption, it became all but impossible to finally face them and put words to them.   This blog has helped me with that so much.  It helped me to come fully out of the fog and finally know and accept the effects of adoption loss on my life.  I finally put an end to the constant tornado.

I had all but forgotten that feeling of the swirling thoughts that wouldn't settle down no matter how hard I tried.  Trying to put thoughts or words together to describe how Christopher's parents make me feel have brought it right back.  I am going to attempt to answer that question, hoping that by writing it out I will figure it out.

The very first and most simple thought/feeling that comes to mind when thinking about them is gratefulness.  It seems... wrong somehow?  to want to express my thanks to them for being wonderful parents to Christopher though.  I don't know why it feels wrong, but it does.  Maybe because of the hurt I felt when I read his mothers words of thanks to me for my "selfless decision".  The thanks were meant completely out of love and gratefulness, and I did read them as loving words, but it later felt like a kick in the stomach, a "thanks for living with life-long grief and loss that is unimaginable by anyone who has not lived the life of a mother without her child".  Maybe I feel ambivalent about saying that I feel grateful to his parents because to them it could be seen as hurtful, not with the love that I mean it in; but since I am not an adoptive parent I don't realize how those words could be perceived as hurtful.  (Those were some rambling sentences ~ I hope that they make at least a little sense!)

So.  Overall, how do Christopher's parents make me feel?  ... Confused?  Intrusive?  Sad?  I guess that since I have no idea how they feel about me, about me being in their son's life, it just leaves me wondering. 

After I gave Christopher up, I often fantasized that I was somehow able to write to his mom.  I used to actually write the letters, but had nowhere to mail them to.  I imagined that I was able to become pen-pals of sorts with her.  I dreamed that I was able to KNOW, not hope, how he was doing as he grew up.   I was able to learn the funny things he said and did as he was growing up.  I got to read about when he started to walk and talk, ride a bike, start school...  I was able to learn how her life was changed as a mother to a son.  I was able to see photos of him, of them, as Christopher grew up so I could stop looking at every little boy his age and wonder if it could have been him.  I wanted her to know how my life was going too.  I wanted her to know the milestones that happened in my life.  I guess I mostly hoped that she cared how I was doing.  I felt a bond of sorts between us ~ two mothers with a deep and profound love for the same child.  I still feel that bond, even though we have never met, even though we have never become the "pen-pals" that I dreamed of.

I guess how his parents make me feel is wanting.  Wanting to know them, wanting to act on that bond I feel with his mother.  Wanting to be a part of their family and for them to be a part of mine.  Wanting to have a relationship in real-life, not just in my heart.

Susie

 

I received a comment on old post the other day.  It has me thinking about open adoption, as well as adoption in general. 

Open adoption is "sold" as better for those adopted as well as the natural families.  But.  Is it?? 

It would have been so wonderful to have been able to know that Christopher was alive and well, healthy and happy.  I used to fantasize often that I had been able to find his parents and write letters back and forth with them.  I often wished that I could have seen him throughout the years ~ been a bug on the wall to see what he looked like, to hear him laugh and talk.  However, for myself, I really don't think I could have participated in a fully open adoption.  I wanted to be a mom to my son.  Since that wasn't possible, I had to completely shut myself off from my motherhood to survive life without him.  If I had been told that I could not choose adoption without it being fully open, I would have chosen to raise my son.  There is no way I could have been a part of his life yet not fully be his mother.  A fully open adoption would have been like rubbing salt in an open wound.  I can't imagine how much worse my anger at my parents would have been ~ to see the son whose life I was missing out on because I refused to raise him in that house.  To have it in my face what my life could have been like (as a mother) if I had received one ounce of love or support (emotional, not financial) from my family.  Of course, I will never know what the reality of open adoption would have been ~ maybe it would have been better...   Who knows...

I can't speak for the adoptee side of open adoption.  Chris' comments make me think about the reality of open adoption on the child growing up.  Just as with everything in life, people react differently in similar situations.  While I know there are some children thriving in their open adoption situations, there are also other children suffering, as in the case that sparked my post "First Family and Forever Family".  There are probably just as many possible downfalls to open adoption as there are benefits for those adopted.  There are just so many variances in experiences, so many differences in the natural and adoptive families, so many things that can change the effects of one open adoption to another.   Open adoption is only as good as the natural and adoptive families work together to make it.  And yet, (this post) shows that even with great relationships between the families the reality can be painful for the child. 

I don't think the question of open adoption being better or worse for the child growing up will ever really be answered.  The problem isn't about which is better.  I think the question needs to be "Is adoption truly necessary in this case?"  Before it even gets to the point that a decision for open or closed adoption is necessary, every effort should be made to first help keep the original family intact.  If a child is being born into a loving family safe from abuse or neglect, they don't need another family ~ they already have one.  Adoption should not be looked at as an answer to temporary problems.  Adoption should not be sold as "a loving choice" to mothers who love their child deeply and would give their right arm to raise her child, but is made to feel "less than" because of age, money, marital status, etc.  "First Family and Forever Family" is a great example of adoption being a permanent solution to a temporary problem. 

I'm not the only one blogging about open adoption today.  For an adoptee's view on open adoption, go visit Amanda.  

***************

 
I had a moment of panic when I first saw the comment from Chris.  I still worry that my son may find this blog one day and think that I have this horribly depressing life because he was born.  That is far from the reality of my life.  I do not write here because my life is all "woe is me, I gave my son up for adoption".  I write here now mostly to advocate for family preservation.  In advocating for family preservation, I am not saying that I would deny my son one moment of the life he has lived.  I am so very lucky that he has had a great life with a wonderful and loving family.   I probably laugh much more in the course of one day than I am saddened by adoption loss in an entire month.  The only place I "talk" about the effects of adoption in my life is here on this blog, and in the blogging/adoption forums.  So of course if you only know me by this blog, you would think that adoption loss is my life.  It is not.  Despite having adoption in it, I have a wonderful life ~ with more blessings than I can count.   

I never dreamed that anyone would want to read my rambling thoughts, my "therapy" of getting all of this out of my head.  The therapy part of writing about adoption in my life was the main reason for starting this blog, but I also want this blog to be a place where an expectant mother considering adoption can find information regarding the truth of adoption loss and family preservation so she can make a fully informed decision for or against adoption.  

Susie

 

I Hate This!

I have had a question for Christopher and a debate with myself running through my brain for weeks now.  I need to get it out of my head so that I don't send it to him in an email.  This sucks.  I hate feeling needy, being uncertain.  I don't write these questions to get answers from anyone, I just need to get the words and worries in writing so they are no longer inside of me, driving me crazy.  Yeah, right.  *laughing*  Like that will make a difference.

Do we need to talk?

Ughhhh... can you sound anymore pathetic?!?  Way to lay on the guilt trip there mom.

But I just need to know if everything is ok.  It's been so long since I have heard from him...

He's busy.  He has a job that requires travel.  He has two little ones, a wife, a home, lots of responsibilities. 

But I've never gone this long without hearing from him.

Did I sense a tinge of awkwardness at his last visit?  He was very short and quiet when I called him on Easter Sunday.  Didn't answer my phone call on his birthday...

Quit imagining things that aren't there.  You've done this before and the worry was for nothing.

Does he have anyone to talk to about all of this?  Do I offer him some blogs, the adoptee forum as places to seek support online? 

What if you are putting thoughts and issues into his head that aren't there? 

If I don't email him tonight, how much longer do I wait?  

For as long as it takes. 

When Will May 8th Be Over??

I have been trying to talk myself out of the funk I have been in since Christopher's birthday.  Which landed on Mother's Day.  Ughhh... I'm whining and I hate that.

I've been trying to stop obsessing thinking about Christopher and his silence.  I've been failing.  Miserably.  Not that I need any reminders, but this morning the first song I heard as I woke up was "Breathe (2 AM)" by Anna Nalick.  The last verse always makes me think of this blog, it is the reason I started writing.

2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to

Tonight Suz had another great post.  She put much of what I feel regarding Christopher's birthday into writing:

"It is a strange feeling, this straddling two worlds.  In World One I am a mother that is recognized and in World Two I am not.  I exist in both worlds and yet I feel incomplete in each one simultaneously.

...I reflected on that today as I thought about mothers like me often have the reverse problem, or perhaps the same problem, only slightly in reverse.  We are also wiped away, disappeared at the time of separation. We go on, in many cases, as we once were. We suppress the memory of our child and we go along with the great charade of society and pretend we are not a mother.  Then one day, upon reunion, whether it be our doing or forced upon us, some person tells us that person that we denied DOES exist and damn, they want to know that person....

...Other mothers like me, we embrace that existence, but really, we don’t know how to live that life, particularly when so many continue to deny it.  It is the stuff psychological disorders are made of. Multiple personalities. Dissociation.

Sure, my mother and my sister and my friends acknowledged me today, but did my daughter? No. Do her parents? No. Does society? No. So where do I go?

 
I guess I'm hoping that by getting  all of this out here, I can get rid of this nagging desire to write to Christopher.  To say more than I should.  Another catch-22 ~ so much I wish he could know, that I pray that he never finds out. 

I have avoided writing too much here on my blog because I'm still scared that Christopher may find it somehow.  I don't want him to know how much I hurt.  I don't want to scare him away.  It's not his fault, I don't want him taking my pain onto himself.  All of this pain and loss from one bad decision made when I was barely 15 years old.  Seems like an awful high price to pay...

Why can't society see the deep scars left by adoption?


Susie
P.S.

I think that his job has him only an hour away again this week.  So close...  So far away... 


It is the stuff psychological disorders are made of.

Birthmother's Day... Is Nothing to Celebrate

Today I will not be celebrating "Birthmother's Day".  I have never celebrated the fact that I am a birthmother.  (I also don't care for that title, but that's an entire post in itself.)

I have been working on this post for days.  I have written and re-written and erased more paragraphs than I can remember. 

Instead I'm just going to link to others who have written what I want to say, but can't find the words.

Cassie again speaks the words of my heart and soul when it comes to adoption loss.  If you haven't already read her post "Here We Go Again", you should go read it.  Be sure to read the comments too, they are as important as the post.  They are proof of the deep seated lies in societies beliefs about adoption.  They are proof that the adoption industry has been successful in their multi-million dollar research on how to turn a tragedy (a mother and child, a family, being separated) into something that is viewed as a "loving" action.

Lorraine has two posts about this.  The comments on the first post lead to the second post. 

Amanda writes about Birthmother's Day from an adoptees perspective.

My favorite post declares "Screw Birthmother's Day!".  And Claud is doing that in high style ~ with all three of her children being together for the day. 

I should leave this post on the high note of Claud's post.  However, this last link shows the true pain of adoption loss and the belief by many that because a mother has given a child up for adoption she is no longer a mother.  The adoption industry and this so-called day of celebration kills the heart and soul of many mothers.  Those who believe that it takes more than biology to make a mother are responsible for this young woman's heartache.  My heart breaks for Candace.  I pray that she will one day be able to say that even though she is not parenting her beloved son, she is still one of his mothers.  She is his first mother.  Without her, he would not be. 

To everyone living without a child because of adoption ~

You are a part of your child

Your child is a part of you

Your child is OF you

Happy Mother's Day

Stop Shorstein Network

I post today to help spread the word about a class-action lawsuit against Shorstein Advocacy Group for using coercion and fraud when soliciting expectant mothers.

From Pound Pup Legacy:

Shorstein, a lawyer in Florida known as the "adoption kingpin" is now being sued in Florida courts for using coercion and fraud when soliciting first parents.

He has been known to make promises of open adoption to first parents, and the adoptions quickly close within 3 years-5 years. The significance of this time frame, is that in most cases, it is five years that a person is able to file a lawsuit within the limit of statues time frame. In other words, contact is discontinued at a the pivotal time that first parents have to reinforce their rights.

And sometimes there is a miracle. Now, all mothers and fathers who have been coerced by Michael Shorstein or who have gone through First Coast Adoption Professionals and had Kathleen Stevens as the counselor can now seek relief. All people, regardless of when the adoption happened can now stand up for their rights and join a class action lawsuit against Shorstein and the agency.

Please pass this message along to any person who may have been affected by these people. We want all people who have been made promises to be able to stand up and join this lawsuit. For parents who are new, and whose open adoption is still open, this is your chance to make sure it does not close.

 From Stop Shorstein Advocacy Group:

Stop Shorstein Network

Families united against Shorstein to bring their children home

The Stop Shorstein Network Is Looking For Families Who Lost Their Children To Fraudulent Adoption Practices In Florida!

The Stop Shorstein Network needs to contact families who have been coerced into signing away their rights to their child(ren) by Shorstein. Hundreds of families have been victimized. Please join with us. Together we can create change.

•  Were promises made to you that were false and damaging?
• Did you sign legal documents under false pretenses?
• Were you manipulated, coerced, or tricked?
• Have they made excuse after excuse for failing to follow through with their promises?
• Have you been denied the relationship with your children that you were promised?
• Have you and your children been harmed and damaged?

You aren't alone in your pain. Please connect with us today.

email: reunite@stopshorstein.info

 

I'm Beginning To Fear The Birth Of My Grandson

My son and his wife are going to be welcoming their son into the world sometime in the next couple of weeks.  Last week we thought perhaps he was going to make an early appearance, but he seems to be settling in for the long haul now. 

They want to be alone in the delivery room, without any extended family.  They seemed to think that I would be offended, but I am not in the least.  I am so happy for them, so happy for this new little family that is being born.  It is a special moment for them, one that should be sacred and honored.  (I, of course, will be as close to the door as possible, so when we get the word to come meet Baby Boy I will be right there!)

My DIL was telling me about the latest discussion she had with her doctor regarding the delivery.  He believes that the baby needs immediate skin-to-skin contact with momma, for as long as possible.  He will lay Baby Boy on her chest immediately after delivery, so the new family can all say their hellos.  Apgar scores will be done as required, but as far as bathing, weighing and measuring, that will all wait. 

I am so very excited for the birth of this new grandson.  Of our six grandchildren from my raised kids, only the oldest is a boy ~ the next 5 are girls.  We are long past due for another boy!  Grandson #1 is now 12, so he could be a babysitter to # already.  I cannot wait to meet him, kiss his baby cheeks, get a big whiff of his "fountain of youth" baby scalp. 

These last few days though, I have realized I am also beginning to have some fear about the birth of this grandson.  It will be the first time since reunion that a grandchild has been born.  And he's a boy.  Who will be welcomed into the world wrapped in love, with immediate bonding with his mom and dad. 

Since reunion, since coming out of the fog, one of my biggest regrets (other than having to choose adoption in the first place), is that I did not know that I WAS my son's mom.  I had every right to see him after birth.  Instead, he was taken from me immediately after birth.  I don't even remember if I heard his first cry. 

It haunts me.  The thought of my son, an innocent newborn.  Suffering through birth, and immediately taken from his mother.  Forever.  Did anyone comfort him?  Or did they leave him to cry?  Was he loved by anyone in his first days while in the hospital? 

I still have been unable to really cry and grieve the loss of my son.  My heart skips a beat at the thought of the moment my new grandson will be placed in my arms.  While next to me will be his mother and father who welcomed him into the world in such a loving way.  The loving welcome that my firstborn son did not get. 

I'm scared that this will be too much, that it will finally be my breaking point.  I'm scared that instead of being a complete moment of joy for my new grandson, it will be just as much a moment of extreme grief for my firstborn son.  For that innocent baby who was denied a loving birth...

"Adoption Myth Buster: What It Takes To Wake"

I read an interesting article in the Huffington Post tonight.  The author, Jennifer Lauck, is an adoptee and the author of the New York Times Bestsellers, Blackbird and Found: A Memoir.  This current article is titled "Adoption Myth Buster: What It Takes To Wake".  The article is about her awakening from "magical thinking" about her adoption, to the realization of the true effects adoption has had on her life.  


Many things about this article broke this mother's heart.  There were several studies referenced regarding the effects of  infant separation trauma.  I have come to learn of some of these effects in the years following my reunion.  It is still heartbreaking to know that many of us first mothers chose adoption because we believed that what we were doing was only for the best for our children.  Yet, before either one of us left the hospital, life-long damage could already have been done to our children.  


One of the studies referenced was by Joseph Chilton Pearce, an author and human development scholar.  The study states that it takes less than forty-five minutes for an infant separated from his mother to  impact the brain and functions like sight.  I haven't heard of Mr. Pearce before, but I have added a couple of his books to my "read someday" list.  The thing that most interests me about Mr. Pearce is that he is certified as a HeartMath trainer, and is developing extensive insights into the heart-brain connection.  I haven't heard of this before, it sounds fascinating.   Hopefully I can learn more about this someday. 


Lauck also referrenced a study that showed that within six hours of separation from the mother, babies experienced "protest-despair" biology and "hyper-arousal and dissociation" response patterns. The conclusion of the Randomized Controlled Trial was: newborns should not be separated from their mothers.


Lauck states that many professional organizations have made recommendations promoting skin-to-skin contact and oppose routine separation of mother and infant.  My daughter-in-law, (who is due to deliver my grandson in just two weeks!) told me just the other day that her doctor puts the newborn infant directly onto momma's bare chest immediately after birth and leaves the baby there with the mother as long as possible.  They don't even take the baby to wash him/her off until the family has had time to meet each other.  The only time he does not do this is if there is a medical emergency preventing it.  


One of the most surprising references that Lauck wrote about is that of a former Catholic priest, Bert Hellinger.  Hellinger writes in his book  Love's Hidden Symmetry:   "In its most destructive form, inappropriate adoption can lead to illness and even suicide of the natural children."  I found it very interesting when reading about his book that he refers to the natural parents as "mom" and "dad" and the adoptive parents as "adoptive mother" and "adoptive father", and the adoptee as the "adopted child".  


Lauck finishes this excellent article talking about the understanding of and value of motherhood. 


I cannot agree more with one of the last sentences in the article:

To force a mother to choose between keeping her offspring or losing acceptance by the culture is to force her to split in half and as a result, to collapse. Rather than divide mothers, can we keep women intact, empower them and thus empower children to feel whole, safe and content?  

Indeed.  What a world it would be if we could do this! 

Some Great Things I Have Learned In Blog-Land

I decided to add a couple of pages to my blog.

One page is a place to record some of the great blog posts I have read.  When I was first "coming out of the fog", I found much comfort and learned a lot from the words of other mothers and of adoptees.  I wanted to make a list of the posts that I think will help someone wanting to learn about living with adoption loss.

The other page I have added is for a review of the books I have read about adoption.  It is a short list right now, as I haven't really been reading any books lately.  I used to read all the time, but now my attention span isn't long enough to concentrate on a book.