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

Looking for submissions - A book being written for adoptees

If you went to check out Kevin Hofmann's blog post I wrote about yesterday, you already know about this project.  I thought I would help Kevin spread the word, it sounds like a great book idea.

THE ADOPTION PROJECT:  I am working on a special project that will combine the shared experiences of adult adoptees, First mothers, and Adoptive parents, in a powerful way to send an empowering and inspirational message to today’s adoptees.  If you are interested in sharing from your own experience please contact me for the particulars @    Kevin8967@sbcglobal.net. 

Some more info about the project that Kevin shared with me:

Each page of the book will include a member of the triad.  It would include your bio, where you are from etc.  Then the next portion of the page would be your message to adoptees speaking from your experience.  Something you wish you knew growing up about adoption(adoptees), the frustrations about adoption, etc.(adoptees, parents)  A love letter to your adoptee,  the real story and feelings behind relinquishing a child,  a love letter to your child(first mom and dads).

We want this to be inspiring but at the same time real.  We want it to be positive but also we want to share the reality of adoption. 

If you are interested in learning more about this project or being a part of it, please email Kevin for more info at:
Kevin8967@sbcglobal.net

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

 

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

 

Lost Daughters

There is a new blog that I am really excited about!  Some of my favorite bloggers have joined forces to create the blog Lost Daughters.  In their words, here is what this new blog is about:

This blog was created by female adoptees, for female adoptees as a place to exchange ideas and opposing views in a respectful atmosphere.  While each adoptee has a unique experience and their own opinions, in general, we each support Adoption Reform, Adoptee Rights, and Family Preservation.  This blog is a place for female adoptees to share their experiences and think critically about adoption.  We do not write pro-adoption posts or repeat stereotypes about adoptees.

We acknowledge that adoption also impacts male adoptees and appreciate their viewpoints as well.  We hope to include guest blogs by men who have been adopted throughout our blog journey.

We also acknowledge that adoption impacts more than just adoptees and that others may identify with many things we write, even if they are not also adopted.  While this is an adoptee blog, we welcome anyone who would like to follow along, read, and comment.  Please just keep in mind that the site content will be geared toward female adoptees.

If you agree with our blog's mission, are a female adult adoptee, and would like to contribute to this blog, please email declassifiedadoptee [at] gmail [dot] com .

Good luck ladies!  I wish you much luck in your endeavor towards Adoption Reform, Adoptee Rights, and Family Preservation.  This mom looks forward to reading and learning from all of you!

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. 

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.

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. 

Neurotic Worries..

I really get nervous that somehow my son will find this blog.

I try to not write anything about his life, as it is not my place to tell his story, so that's not what I worry about.  What I worry about is him taking any of my garbage onto himself.  Or him thinking that I am in reality a "bitter birthmom" that he wants nothing to do with.  I already think that a lot of what he says/doesn't say is just because he is really a nice guy & doesn't want to hurt me. 

I am so much more than a first mom.  This blog is just my place to vent about that part of my life.  My place to try to come to terms with all of it.  I started this blog to speak out my truth.  To "cancel out" one of the happy-happy-birthmom blogs that I see more and more of out here in blog-land. 

I just can't help but worry that if Christopher finds this blog, it will scare him away.  Because the neurotic 15 year-old in me worries about that often. 

When Others Want You To Stay In The Closet

  From a blog post I read recently:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tornadoes of Thoughts

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

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

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

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

Sometimes I feel like Dorothy ~

First Family and Forever Family?

I read a blog post today written by an adoptive mother, about adoption loss.  Her seven year old daughter is starting to realize the contradicting reasons given for her adoption, and is experiencing deep grief for her loss.  She doesn't understand why she can't be with her first family, as the reasons given to her don't make sense.  (This family has a completely open adoption.)  This adoptive mother goes on to tell of a recent experience, and tells of the great sadness she has for everyone because of their adoption loss.

If adoption is truly for the best interest of the child, wouldn't it be in her best interest to end this grief and loss that the daughter knows is unnecessary?  If this first family is now in a "better" place to raise a child, doesn't that make sense?  Why does the first mom & especially the child have to live forever with such deep loss and grief?  

Yes, it would be hard for the adoptive mom, but isn't it supposed to be what's best for the child??  The loss is acceptable if it's the first mom experiencing it, what's different if it's the adoptive mom?  If the adoptive mother was still able to be a part of the child's life, if it was a "reverse" open adoption of sorts...  

This little girl could grow up in her family of origin, she could grow up knowing her ancestry, she wouldn't have to live with the feelings of abandonment, the questions of why she wasn't good enough to "keep", etc. 

Just wondering...

Since adoption is supposed to be about the child...

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.