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

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

 

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 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. 

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...

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.

Visit Claud and Comment to Oprah

Claud has a great post today, a letter to Oprah Winfrey.  Claud tells us at the end of her post  "I invite every reader, lurker or visitor of this post to add a comment addressed to Oprah asking for her help and explaining why."

 I think this is a wonderful idea, so I thought I would spread the word.  Claud is a wonderful writer, if you don't know about her yet, you should browse her blog for a while.  On the right side of the page, about half way down, she has a link to her most popular posts.

I know I haven't posted for a while.  I've actually been working on a page to add to this blog.  It will be a page with links to some of my favorite blog posts, some great research pages, and adoption related videos.  Great resources for mothers considering adoption, for first moms coming out of the fog, anyone wanting to learn about the effects of adoption on those of us who actually live with it.  When I was first reunited, I thought I was losing my mind.  I had so many thoughts and feelings that contradicted everything I had been told, everything I had believed to be the truth.  Finding some of these bloggers truly saved my sanity.  They let me know I was not crazy ~ everything I was feeling was the truth, was "normal" for my not-so-normal life.  Hopefully in the next few days I will have enough info to get the page added.

Another reason I haven't been writing much is because I've finally been back in my sewing room!  I finally finished the quilt I started making my daughter over a year ago, but hadn't worked on for about 9 months.  I also have a new grandson who will be born in about four weeks, and now a beautiful quilt is almost ready for him!  I will have to post some photos here one day.  I do have a life outside of all this "adoption" stuff you know!

Happy February everyone!  Only 48 days until spring!

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.

Happy Thanksgiving

I have so much to be thankful for again this year.  I have more blessings than I could ever list, but there are a few that I want to acknowledge here.

First and foremost, I am so thankful to have my firstborn son in my life.  Especially thankful that I finally got to meet Christopher in person this year.  This will be my second Thanksgiving KNOWING that he is alive and well, not just praying that he is.  Before reunion, I really did not believe that I would ever be reunited with him in any way.  I have to remind myself of that when I find myself wanting "more" of a relationship with Christopher.  I am so thankful that he did get great parents, that he has a wonderful extended family as well.  I am so thankful that he is healthy and happy. 

I am so thankful for all my children.  I am so thankful that my three raised children have accepted and welcomed Christopher as a part of our family.  It is so wonderful to see my kids as young adults and also to see two of them parenting their own children.  I am especially proud of my daughter, who had her first child at 16, becoming an amazing mother at such a young age.  I am thankful that all my children and grandchildren are healthy, happy, and enjoying life.

I am so thankful for my group of close friends.  Two of us have been friends since 2nd grade, the rest I met in high school.  There are 5 of us, and I would be lost without them.   I have many friends, but The Girls are a part of me.  I am so thankful for our special friendships that have grown for over 32 years.  My grade school friend and I have been friends for 40 years now!  They have been with me through thick and thin, they are completely supportive of my reunion, and they always include Christopher and his children as a part of my family. 

And last, but not least, I am so very thankful for all the "friends" I have met online in my quest for finding myself after reunion with Christopher.  I truly don't know where I would be right now if I had not found all of those who validated the confusing thoughts and feelings I was having.  I am pretty sure I would have stayed right in that closet, scared of my own feelings, thinking something was wrong with me. 

I wish each and every one of you a very blessed Thanksgiving.  I hope you enjoy a fabulous day full of family, friends, and too much good food!

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. 

I Am Complete...

I met my son on Saturday!  It  had been 11,456 days since the first and only time I saw him when he was just 3 weeks old.  I spent a glorious hour with him, it was just the two of us. 

I was traveling east for a quilt expo, while he was traveling west to get some supplies for his new kiln.  We were going to be only an hour apart from each other for the day.  I suggested meeting for dinner, before each of us had to head back to our homes, since we were going to be so close.  His first response to that suggestion was that it probably wouldn't work.  Then on Friday he emailed me that he would text me Saturday afternoon if it looked like the timing would work.

Saturday afternoon I got the text that he could make it work, that we could meet on one condition ~ I could not cry!  I didn't think it would be a problem, as I have been unable to cry for years ~ a benefit of living in deep denial for decades, denying my feelings.  And from growing up in a hateful house where feelings weren't cared about anyways.  I am great at acting like everything is great when in actuality I am falling apart.

We met, appropriately enough, at a town off the interstate with a huge smiley-face water tower.  My smile was about as big from the minute I read his text.  I was so excited to finally be able to see, touch, hold, and smell my son again.

I got there early, I wanted to be the first to arrive.  I found a place to park near the back of the lot, where nobody else was parked.  I was so nervous while waiting.  Could I pull off not crying?  Every vehicle that pulled into the lot made my stomach jump.  Would it be uncomfortable?  Awkward?  What do I need to steer the conversation away from in order to keep my no-crying promise?

30 minutes later, I see his truck pull off the road, and head towards me.  Time stopped.  He parked next to me, we got out of our vehicles, he walks towards me, hands out saying "this first hug is going to be a dirty one!".  I told him I didn't care.  That hug was truly the best one I have ever, or will ever get!! 

We talked and laughed for an hour.  We talked about meeting again, this time with his family. At one point in our conversation, I commented that he was spoiled by his parents.  He looked kind of embarrassed and replied yeah, he was.  I simply smiled and said "good!".  I am so happy that he has wonderful parents, who spoiled him when I could not. 

There was not a single uncomfortable moment.  It felt so... right.  I could not quit staring at him, looking into his eyes, seeing my little boy.  He is beautiful, inside & out. 

I did not cry, I only felt overwhelming happiness and fullness. 

One thing I fully was taken by surprise over, was not expecting, had not thought about.  When it came time to leave, we were both in our vehicles.  I could not drive away.  I could not leave him again.  He was going to have to do the leaving this time.  I waited for him to pull out of the parking lot.  He looked at me, let me know he was waiting for me.  I was just getting ready to sign for him to roll his window down, when he gave me a huge smile and a wave and drove away.  I followed behind him to the interstate, he headed east, I headed west. 


Our journey has come full circle.  I truly feel (and hope and pray) that we will continue to move forward, along with his wife & kids, the siblings he didn't grow up with, our extended families. 

A friend sent me a text not long after I was back on the road.  She wanted to know how I was doing.  I replied:   I am fine.  I am... complete. 

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. 

I Do NOT Want Or Expect A Right To Privacy!

An administrator over at GIMH said today:

"it has always been my understanding that in most closed 

adoptions natural/first parents don’t want records unsealed 

because it takes away their right to privacy."

I was NEVER promised, nor would I have EVER asked for anonymity. Quite the opposite happened, actually. I was told that if I ever searched for my son, I would be breaking the law. Thank God that my son and I were able to find each other in 2009. With no help from the adoption agency, Florence Crittenton, who had all my current information.  

When my son contacted them to start his search, he was told it would cost hundreds of dollars for them to “try” to locate me. Even though in his file was every address and phone number he needed to find me and several other family members in case he came looking for me after my death.  Even though my father lived in the same house I grew up in, the same address and phone number that was in my records at the time my son was born.  They were not looking out for either of our best interests. They simply wanted to make a few more bucks off of my son, in addition to the money his parents paid to adopt him.

It makes me SO angry that the adoption industry and adoptive parent groups try to blame natural families for closed adoption records.  If that was the case, the records would be closed when the parents signed away their rights.  If parents sign away their rights, but the child for some reason would never be adopted, the records are not closed.  The records only close AFTER an adoption is finalized.  

The groups that fight against open records for all Americans often cite the "anonymous" natural parents that have contacted them, cowering behind so-called promises of anonymity.  These natural parents, they say, do not give their true identities, out of fear of being "found out".  I believe that the majority of these so-called natural parents are actually pro-adoption advocates that do not want records opened.  

I, and all the other natural moms I "know", want our children to have access to their original birth certificates.  The natural moms I know would never hide behind anonymity.  The natural moms I know would welcome contact with our lost children, if they would come looking for us after getting their OBC's. 

The right to open records should never be based on our wants anyways, as it is not our rights that are being denied.  It is our children whose rights are trampled on.  It is our children who should be listened to when it comes to opening adoption records.  Our children, who as adults, should be able to have their OBC like any other American citizen. 

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.

January 16, 2009, 4:50 pm

In 2008, I was starting to realize that a lot of the problems I was having in my life probably all stemmed from the loss of my son to adoption.  To the fact that I never dealt with the loss.  To the fact that I had no idea if my son was even alive, much less happy and healthy.  Sometime during the holidays I came to the conclusion that I was going to talk to someone to start to get all my shit together & deal with the ghosts of my past before beginning the search for my son.

I had to postpone till after mid January when my brother & his family were able to come to town to celebrate a late Christmas.  I was SO ready to get the holidays over with and begin working on healing and trying to find my son to get some answers.  The Friday before, on Jan 16th, I was so impatient to begin.  I was at work, getting ready to leave.  I thought I would just quickly check the email I had set up for replys from the reunion websites I had registered on.

When I first set up my hotmail account, I checked it every day for months.  I slowly started checking it less and less often.  The last couple of years I only checked it probably every few months.  Before that January day it had been maybe closer to 5 months since I had checked it.  I completely expected the inbox to be filled with only junk.

The first email I saw that wasn't junk was from a search angel telling me that my son was looking for me on a different website and gave me the info to go find him.  It was dated December 30th.  There were 2 more from her, and one from Christopher himself on January 9th.  The email from Christopher was short, just one line saying "we can start many ? with answers", and giving me his direct email address.  It takes my breath away just remembering that moment.  Time literally stood still.  I couldn't breathe.  I couldn't cry.  I couldn't believe it.  It seemed like an hour till those 10 minutes passed and I could leave at 5:00.  I couldn't drive home to call the number the search angel left me, as my youngest son was at home & didn't yet know about the son I gave up for adoption.  I drove to a school parking lot & called the number.  I thought the number I was calling was Christopher's mother.  She answered, I asked if this was Kim, she said yes.  I told her who I was and she said "Oh ~ you are Christopher's mother!".  That is the moment I lost it and started crying.  I asked if she was his mom, she told me she was not, she was a search angel.  She then told me that my son was VERY anxious to talk to me, that he had contacted her several times since she sent him the email telling him she found me for him.  I asked if he was healthy.  I will NEVER forget, and can still hear her sweet southern accent telling me "he is healthy, he is happy, and he got great parents".  She knew the three questions that had haunted me for decades.  That is when the tears flowed.  I have never felt such relief in my entire life.

I went home and sent Christopher an email.  I wasn't completely sure it was really him, was scared to get my hopes up, that maybe it was the wrong person, that I wasn't really the right mom.  I sent him an email, with all the info I had on his birth, and told him that I couldn't wait to hear from him.  I then had to go to the store for last minute things for my big family bash the next day.  It was SO hard to go on with my normal life ~ all I could think about was my son, that he was alive, healthy, and happy.  And looking for me!!  My husband was out of town and I wanted him to be the first person I told, so I couldn't even talk to anyone about it.  I think I checked my email every 5 minutes the rest of the night, the following day (even with my house full of company ~ I can't believe that they didn't know something was up!),and first thing Sunday morning when I woke up to get ready for church.  The waiting was pure torture.  I was so scared that he had changed his mind & really didn't want to know me after all.  Just before church, I checked the email one last time, and there it was!  An email from Christopher!

The email confirmed everything I had, even a couple of things I didn't mention in my email to him.  He attached a copy of the info his parents got from Flo Crit about me & my family.  There was NO doubt that he was indeed my Christopher! 

Now, I am a faithful person, but I am certainly no religious freak.  I do however, believe that in my reunion story there are too many things to call it pure coincidence.  The fact that I had decided that after the holidays I would begin my healing & search.  I was not able to begin "officially" getting help dealing with my past, but I had done some deep soul searching to begin to know the "real" me.  The "me" before adoption entered my life.  The "me" that included a son that I did not raise.  I finally made the connection between the loss of my son and so many things/reactions to things in my life.  Then, to find the first email from the search angel dated Dec. 30th.  Coincidence?  I think not.  Call it divine intervention, call it intuition, call it mother-child bond.  Whatever it was, I somehow knew the time was coming and I needed to get ready...