Monday, May 23, 2011

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. 

Monday, May 16, 2011

When Will May 8th Be Over??

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

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

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

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

"It is a strange feeling, this straddling two worlds.  In World One I am a mother that is recognized and in World Two I am not.  I exist in both worlds and yet I feel incomplete in each one simultaneously.
...I reflected on that today as I thought about mothers like me often have the reverse problem, or perhaps the same problem, only slightly in reverse.  We are also wiped away, disappeared at the time of separation. We go on, in many cases, as we once were. We suppress the memory of our child and we go along with the great charade of society and pretend we are not a mother.  Then one day, upon reunion, whether it be our doing or forced upon us, some person tells us that person that we denied DOES exist and damn, they want to know that person....
...Other mothers like me, we embrace that existence, but really, we don’t know how to live that life, particularly when so many continue to deny it.  It is the stuff psychological disorders are made of. Multiple personalities. Dissociation.

Sure, my mother and my sister and my friends acknowledged me today, but did my daughter? No. Do her parents? No. Does society? No. So where do I go?
 
I guess I'm hoping that by getting  all of this out here, I can get rid of this nagging desire to write to Christopher.  To say more than I should.  Another catch-22 ~ so much I wish he could know, that I pray that he never finds out. 

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

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


Susie
P.S.

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


It is the stuff psychological disorders are made of.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Family Preservation, Not Anti-Adoption

What Is Family Preservation?

Family Preservation began in the 1890s, and in the 1909 White House Conference on Children it was the top ranked issue.  The movement was started to help keep children at home with their families.  Before this, children were often taken out of homes if parents did not make enough income to support them.  Many of the leading authorities of this time period argued that extreme poverty was reason enough to break up a family.  Support for family preservation can be traced back to the Orphan Train movement
Family Preservation has been seeing resurgence in the last decades.  Just a couple of the more recent organizations to take on this issue are Origins-USA and The American Adoption Congress  Other signs of the growth of the Family Preservation movement are seen in the positions held by The United Nations, UNICEF, The UN CRC, the Hague Convention on International Adoption, and Save the Children - all of which call for family preservation first, then kinship care and stranger adoption as a last resort - with international adoption the very last resource after no domestic adoption can be found.

Does being for Family Preservation mean I am Anti-Adoption?

No.  I am not naive enough to believe that adoption will ever be unnecessary.  There are some women (and men) who truly have no desire to be parents.  Unfortunately, there are also parents who cannot overcome their addictions to alcohol and/or drugs, there are those who are with a violent partner and cannot break the hold their abusers have on them, or are themselves abusers.  Only in the cases of abuse or neglect, or the lack of desire to parent a child do I feel adoption should be necessary.  I believe that father's have just as much right to raise their child as the mother does.  If a mother chooses to not parent her child, the father still has every right to raise the child.
I don't like the term "anti-adoption", as it is used with such deep negativity.  "Anti-adoption" brings the attention to someone who is perceived as bitter or angry instead of being about the best interest of children and their families.  There are some who see "anti-adoption" as being the extreme viewpoint that supports each and every mother raising their child.  In reality, I don't think that even the most extreme "anti-adoption" advocates would support every mother keeping her child no matter the danger involved for the child.  

In Cases Where Adoption Must Exist ~ I Am Pro-Adoption Reform

I am against the billions of dollars per year profits that adoption agencies see.  Take a look at the top salaries in the adoption industry and tell me they are truly not-for-profit companies.  The adoption industry also spends millions of dollars every year researching how to best convince mothers to give their children up for adoption. 
I am against coerced adoptions.  It is impossible to list each and every way coercion exists ~ I consider adoption to be coerced if a mother is made to feel unworthy of being a parent when compared to an adoptive family.  It is coercive to tell a mother she is too young or too poor to raise her child.  Using the fact that the mother will be a single parent to feel "less than capable" of being a mother is also coercive.  I consider pre-birth matching to be coercive.  I consider the use of the label "birth mother" when referring to a pregnant woman who is considering adoption to be coercive.  I consider it coercive when a mother is not given any information regarding the life-long effects of adoption on her child, herself, her extended families, etc.  An un-informed choice is not a choice.  If there is no alternative given other than adoption, there is no choice.  There must be something else to choose in order to make a choice. 
I believe that we need to raise public awareness of the realities of the effects of adoption on all involved. 
I believe in the right to identifying information for all adopted persons and their birth and adoptive families through records access (adoption papers, original birth certificates).
I believe that all states need to legalize open adoption agreements.

I am not alone in my adoption reform ideas.  Here are just a few links for more information:

http://www.pear-now.org/
http://www.cubirthparents.org/personalhist.html  
http://www.americanadoptioncongress.org/mission.php


Many states also have their own adoption reform groups.  Google "adoption reform" with the name of your state to find more information.



Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Mother's Day/Birthday Blues


As expected, May 8th was really tough this year.  It was not only Mother's Day, but it was also Christopher's 32nd birthday.  The two hardest days of the year for me, rolled into one!

As much as I try to not get my hopes up, my heart can't help but daydream about a phone call that begins with  "Happy Mother's Day Mom!" from my firstborn.  And of course that dream phone call would end with "Bye Mom ~ Love ya".

So.  When the day came and went with no acknowledgement of Mother's Day at all from him, and my phone call to tell him Happy Birthday unanswered...  Well, let's just say it wasn't a good night once my raised kids and their kids went home and I was left with my thoughts returning to Christopher again.

(I did have a wonderful evening with my raised kids and their kids.  My daughter made a beautiful handmade gift that represented ALL of my kids.  It is a sculptured tree with birthstone crystals representing all of the kids and grandkids.  It's shiny and it sparkles in the sunshine ~ photos don't do it justice or I would post one.  Maybe I can talk my talented daughter into getting a great photo of it for me...)

The rest of the night was spent in a pity-party and a half bottle of tequila's worth of margaritas.  I prayed to be able to go back into the adoption closet, take a trip back up that wonderful river of Denial.  To go to that place where I again was not "really" a mother to Christopher, did not feel the intense pain of the loss of him.  I thought that if he didn't want me in his life, I should just accept that and step back and out of reunion.  Yesterday was a doozy of a May 8th hangover (more emotional than alcohol induced) ~ to say I was a bit crabby would be putting it mildly.  

Last night I was reading some of the last emails I received from Christopher.  I hadn't realized that the last one he sent was before his last visit on April 21st.  It was just six weeks ago that he had met his siblings, nieces and nephews for the first time, two weeks since he came back for a second visit.  

I wish that I could call him and ask him how he's doing.  I wish we could just sit down together and honestly talk about everything.  I hate to speculate on what he may be thinking about all of this, but it has got to be so very difficult. I try to imagine what he could be going through, what parts of this reunion would be hardest for him.  I think one of the things would be the difference between his two families.

Our family gets together often, not just for holidays and birthdays.  It's not unusual for me to get home from work and find a grandkid or two at the house just hanging out, or for me to get a phone call from my daughter or son saying that their family is coming over for dinner just because.  It is usually noisy and chaotic when we are together, from laughter, talking, kids playing, my youngest son antagonizing his nieces and nephew.  We just love being together, and don't need a reason to get together.

I don't think his adoptive family gets together very often, unless it's for a holiday or other special occasion, or if it's been a while since his parents have seen the grandkids.

After realizing all of this last night, I began to (thankfully) get out of my pity-party mood.  I looked at how far our reunion has come in the last year.  Just one year ago I hadn't even met Christopher in person yet, nor did he have any desire to.  Just short of seven weeks ago he hadn't met his siblings and their families yet.  I am so very lucky that my dream of having ALL of my children together in one room has come true ~ twice! 

As I went to bed last night ~ counting my blessings instead of focusing on what I thought I didn't have ~ I had a great nights sleep.

Today I received my "Daily Truth" email and it was again so very appropriate.























Our relationship IS growing ~ slowly but surely.  It may be growing slower than I want it to ~ but it is happening.

There IS so much fabulousness wrapped up inside of every stop of this difficult, long journey of reunion.   I have learned so much about myself.  I have "met" some wonderful people in my quest to heal from the loss of my son.  Through an online forum for mothers, I have been a part of keeping a mother and her child together so that they won't ever know the pain of adoption loss.  Through that same forum I have been a voice of truth regarding adoption loss for other mothers as well as prospective and adoptive mothers.  I have come to "know" some amazing adoptees and other mothers through their blogs.  If not for everything I have learned from my online friends, I can't imagine where I would be on this journey of adoption loss and reunion.  I am so very thankful for all of them.

I am thankful for this Daily Truth ~ pushing me even further out of my May 8th funk! 

I wish it wasn't so easy to get lost in the pain and grief of adoption loss.  Will that hole in my heart ever really be filled?  I dont' think so...

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Birthmother's Day... Is Nothing to Celebrate

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To everyone living without a child because of adoption ~
You are a part of your child
Your child is a part of you
Your child is OF you
Happy Mother's Day

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Heartbreaking Rejection In Reunion

There have been some heartbreaking posts lately on some of the adoption related blogs that I follow.

A daughter rejected ~ with a half-piece of paper torn from a legal pad.

A daughter pondering how long the relationship with her father will be kept a secret.  Wondering if her mother ~ his wife ~ will ever accept her or tell her full siblings about her.

Another daughter wondering if pursuing a relationship with her father will jeopardize her relationship with her mother, while worrying about how and when to tell her adoptive parents that she is in contact with her natural parents.

A mother who has been fully rejected by her daughter ~ the mother was told to not call, write, communicate in any way.


I am so very, very, blessed to have a successful reunion with my firstborn son.  I am so very blessed that my son did indeed get the wonderful family and childhood I dreamed of for him. I am so very glad that Christopher went from only wanting medical and family history in the beginning to wanting to know me and his siblings. 

Even though our adoption journeys would probably be described as being great ones, it does not make up for the deep loss and grief that I have lived with for almost 32 years now.  I cannot imagine how much harder healing from the adoption loss would be, if my son had rejected me in reunion. My heart stops at the thought of it.

It absolutely breaks my heart when I read stories from the mothers, fathers, and adoptees who are rejected in reunion. 


I completely understand why some mothers are unable to fully embrace reunion.  At the same time ~ I will never understand how a mother could reject her child... for the second, or third, or final time. 

As hard as it was to do the work necessary to come out of the adoption closet, to come out of the fog, it would have been so much harder to lose precious contact with my son again.  I have loved my son since before he was born.  Denial kept me from knowing the full depth of the love I had for Christopher.  Reunion opened my heart, and I have only grown to love him more over these last couple of years.  I truly love him no less than the children I raised.  I am so blessed that I was able to open my heart, instead of closing it like some mothers have.  My heart breaks for those mothers and for their children.

When I read the words of adoptees rejected, I cannot help but feel I myself am to blame for a part of their grief.  (I just cannot get my thoughts on this into coherant written words ~ so frustrating.)  I don't mean responsible for one certain adoptee's personal grief, but in the general grief felt by any adoptee.    My part ~ in believing the sunshine and rainbows myths, in believing the "blank slate" theory,  in choosing adoption for my own firstborn son, and then by staying silent for decades about the truth of the depth of adoption loss, I feel that I was a part of the "adoption is wonderful" culture.  It is that culture that refuses to acknowledge the loss that adoption is built on.  It is that culture that keeps parents and children separated and unable to reunite. 

A mother unable to see that society was wrong for putting labels on her when she was young and pregnant.  A mother unable to face her past because of the stigma that society put on her.  A mother unable to tell her raised children, or husband, or parents, about the child she gave up because of the deep-seated shame she took onto herself as an unwed mother. Sadly, these stigmas are still put on unmarried mothers, on mother's deemed to be too young, or too poor.

The ones given up for adoption who are unable to embrace their natural family in reunion ~ out of anger, or fear, or loyalty...

As I was typing these last words, wondering where I am going with this rambling post.  Wondering why I have been thinking so often lately about those suffering in rejection, a song I haven't heard for a long time came on.  It speaks to the grief felt by those whose love is not returned...

Cause I can't make you love me
if you don't
You can't make your heart feel
something it won't
I will lay down my heart
And I'll feel the power
but you won't
No, you won't
Cause I can't make you love me
if you don't


 My heart goes out to all who have been rejected in reunion.  I pray that one day the closed hearts of those you love are able to be opened.   As this song so beautifully says, we can't make anyone love us.  All we can do is learn to love ourselves, and be true to our own hearts.  Even if that means loving someone who can't/won't love or show love in return.

Susie

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Stop Shorstein Network

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

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

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

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

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

 From Stop Shorstein Advocacy Group:

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

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


  •  Were promises made to you that were false and damaging?
  • Did you sign legal documents under false pretenses?
  • Were you manipulated, coerced, or tricked?
  • Have they made excuse after excuse for failing to follow through with their promises?
  • Have you been denied the relationship with your children that you were promised?
  • Have you and your children been harmed and damaged?
You aren't alone in your pain. Please connect with us today.
email: reunite@stopshorstein.info

 

Sunday, April 10, 2011

It's been a while since I have made the time to write anything here.  Part of the reason is that I am so very happy with how things are turning out on my adoption reunion journey.  Another reason is that I am finally comfortable with who I have become after reunion.  It is so freeing to be able to get rid of the secrets.  To be able to stand on the hilltops and tell the world that I have four children, not three.  I am able to live an authentic life, not a life of lies.  The truth did set me free ~ in many ways.  It has been a rough road ~ finding myself again ~ but it was certainly a journey worth starting.

In believing the reasons that helped me make the choice to give my son up for adoption, I didn't realize that I was also taking on some pretty big beliefs about myself as a person.  Beliefs that didn't stay related just to my decision for adoption.  I took them onto my entire self, my entire being.

It has taken me more than two years to shed some of the lies I had told myself for decades.  To shed some of the lies that I allowed others to put onto me.  Lies that I took fully onto myself, so much so that they became Truth.  Truths that were so deeply believed I still find myself beginning to put them back on, like an old comfy sweatshirt.

Society told me I wasn't good enough to be a mother.  I believed I wasn't good enough.  I often heard that I was stupid as I was growing up ~ becoming pregnant at 15 proved to me that it was true.  Society told me I was sinful for having sex outside of marriage.  Society told me I wasn't worthy to be a mother, while prospective adoptive parents were wonderful, capable, married couples who were more than ready to be parents.  I wasn't married, old enough, rich, or ready enough... I simply wasn't enough.

These last couple of years spent trying to find myself again have let me realize that I was and am good enough, smart enough.  I am worthy of everything I have denied myself for years.  I. am. enough.

Take a day to heal from the lies you've told yourself and the ones that have been told to you.
a
Maya Angelou

It has taken my much more than a day.  It has taken more than two years.  I'm not sure that the lies will ever be completely gone.  When a young woman is made to feel unworthy in order for the adoption industry to procure another child, it doesn't just ensure a choice for adoption ~ it effects her entire life.  But mothers aren't told that when they are considering adoption.  That's just one of the things that mothers find out after it's too late...

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Adoption Reunion Story by A Raised Sibling

Today I have a "guest blogger" of sorts!  My daughter started off writing a Thank-You letter to the Search Angel who made the reunion with Christopher possible.  The "Thank You" ended up being a beautiful short story of sorts that she sent to Christopher and I.  After asking each of them for permission to post it, I wanted to share it with all of you. In the original letter, she referred to his "real" name ~ the name his parents gave him.  To keep his privacy, she changed it to "Chris" so I could post it here.

Adoption Reunion Story by A Raised Sibling


My two younger brothers and I grew up in a very idealistic world. I had both my parents,two younger brothers, grandparents and an aunt and uncle just blocks away from us. My other set of grandparents lived about 20 minutes away but we saw them often along with the various uncles, aunts, and cousins from that side of the family.

We lived on a cul-de-sac street full of children our ages as well as a few childless couples who were always happy to entertain us. (Well, except for that one old guy next door, but the use of his garden as playground by all us neighborhood children may have contributed to his sometimes crabby bark.) My mother stayed home with us and operated a home daycare for a few years; when she was working outside of our home we always had our maternal grandmother there.

I have a terrible memory; most of it is in bits and glimmers but the ones that are there are so vivid, so much like a fairy tale. Growing up I had no idea how lucky I was, I thought every child had princess tea parties on the front porch, complete with mini sandwiches and lemonade made by Grandma. I thought every child had a band of recorders, mini keyboards, and oatmeal container drums (we “performed” in the tree house my father built, charging .25 to listen to our beautiful music and eat some Oreos we’d borrowed from my kitchen). I thought every child had a park just blocks away, a cul-de-sac to play baseball or hopscotch in, a neighbor with unlocked doors and a freezer full of homemade popsicles just for us, and the ability to pick flowers for their teacher on the short walk to school. I thought every child was welcomed home at the end of the day with hugs from Grandma, cartoons, and cookies fresh from the bakery where Grandpa worked. I thought everyone’s mom sewed them custom skirts and leggings. I thought everyone’s dad built tree houses and teeter-totters and hand painted holiday decorations. It seemed natural that every girl would have porcelain dolls from her Grandma G’s trips overseas and a small town to visit where they could walk and play for hours without fear of strangers. I was sure that everyone had great holidays like mine (we shared one meal with my mothers family, complete with holiday themed decorations and treats from Grandma; then another meal with my Grandma G and Grandpa G where I had so many cousins that I had to write it out on paper to be sure I wasn’t missing anyone when I counted them up.)
It wasn’t until we were discussing the “typical American childhood” in a college class that I realized just how lucky I was. I was stunned to find out that my experience was nothing like most of my classmates, that they would have given anything to have a childhood like that. Funny how we don’t see how blessed we are sometimes. I certainly didn’t when I was a child; I just thought it was all normal. I thought I was a normal happy little girl. Until I morphed, that is.

Enter teenage angst. I wasn’t the friendliest teenage girl on the block; in fact, the friendliest teenage girl on the block lived 2 houses down from me and in comparison I was a vicious brat. So the day I went snooping in my mothers closet and found a manila envelope labeled “Christopher” I thought I had hit pay dirt. A secret child? A lie told to me all my life? (I know, what a terrible way to see the news of an older brother given up for adoption. I am ashamed to admit now that I felt that way, but I’m trying to be honest with a fragile topic here.)

Even more shameful is that I used the information to deliver a blow to my mother. We were fighting one day, who knows about what, typical teenage daughter versus at-her-whits-end mother stuff. When my mother accused me of lying about something I threw my new information at her face. “At least I didn’t lie to you that you were the oldest child all these years! I know about Christopher, and not telling me is the same as lying to me!” When the words came out, it felt good. It felt good to have something to say back to my mom when I was in the wrong and unable to admit it. It felt good to finally admit that I knew about him. …........Then I looked at her face. I will never in my life feel more shame than I did in that moment. I had hurt my mother to the core. I may as well have opened her chest and stabbed a thousand tiny needles in her heart. She sent me to my room and I went without a fight.

A few days later my mom sat me down to talk. She told me a story about a young girl, a crazy decision, and a shocking realization. She told me about the options presented to her and about the anguish of saying goodbye to a child she might never meet again. She told me about years spent wondering. Years spent worrying and hoping and dreading all at the same time. She told me the story, and then she asked me to keep it secret for her, she still accepted his conception as shame- a feeling our society still pushes on young mothers to this day unfortunately.

For a few years I spent a ridiculous amount of time thinking about my older brother. During those years I was part of two peer groups. One from my school, full of brilliant minds and days spent in a local coffee shop drinking coffee and debating for hours over which approach to take on a mathematical problem from our honors class or breaking down theories from our biotechnology class. Then there was the other group. This one was from my otherwise really good neighborhood, full of corrupted minds and days spent sitting around doing nothing and skirting encounters with the police and parents. Unfortunately, I spent more time with the neighborhood crowd out of convenience. I allowed the boys in that group to treat me like an object; to talk to me as if I had no feelings or thoughts, and to make decisions for me. Looking back I realize that I must have known the situation was not good for me- because I spent all that time fantasizing about my brother. Not about who he was or where he was, but about him somehow finding us and coming in to save me from the fools I hung out with. Why I didn’t think to save myself I’ll never know.

Well, time moves on, and my brother didn’t find himself magically transported to our house and into our lives. Eventually I quit thinking about him as much; I had much more pressing things to think about from the age of 16 on. You see, I had a baby of my own.
Because of the anguish my mother had been through, she didn’t encourage adoption. She didn’t outright say no to it, instead she and my father just said that I would have to work harder now. I would finish high school and go to college, and I would be taking care of a child along the way. There was never any question of it- it was just a fact of life. So I did finish high school, and I am proud to say I finished with honors while still taking my advanced classes in math and science. And I graduated a semester early so I could jump right into nursing school. I had dreamed of being a doctor but for some reason I set up my mind to believe that tiny bumps in the road were equal to mountains and I limited myself. It turns out this was a wonderful choice, though, as I am now on my way to finishing my Masters degree and being a Nurse Midwife. I’ll work in the same context as an OBGYN doctor, but with more freedom to give my patients a natural and whole birth experience. Oh, and between that age of 16 and now, between letting go of one dream and embracing another, between a marriage and a divorce, between an achingly painful loss and beautiful additions to life- I had 4 more children, all girls. It’s been a crazy decade! So I think it is understandable why I didn’t devote too much time to daydreaming about a lost siblings return. I thought of him, of course, but I no longer dreamed of him coming to save me- I was too busy saving myself.

So I was shocked when my mother came to me 2 years ago with a disk labeled “Chris”. She had decided that it was time to quit letting her fears dominate her thoughts of her son and to look for him to find answers and closure. She had found that society’s idea of what should be her shame was grossly incorrect, and she was ready to find her son and to tell the world of his existence and their story. This is where the miracle woman comes into play. (I originally started writing this as a letter to her to let her know how much of a difference her volunteer work does, and then realized there was too much to say and so many people in my life that I wanted to share it all with.)

My mother posted on an adoption reunion board with her information. My brother posted on an entirely different adoption reunion board with his information. This miracle woman, this adoption angel, saw the similarities in their posts and sent them an email. It seems she does this in her spare time, trying to help people reunite. Imagine how many families must be in touch now because of her. Families who could have gone the rest of their lives thinking the other didn’t want to find them when in reality they were just posting on different message boards. Obviously I like to write, I love literature and language; but this is one of those times when I dislike the English language. Because the words “Thank You” are just not deep enough, large enough, or sincere enough to say what I want to say to her.

So my mother had been talking to Chris via email for a while (a few months maybe?) before she had built up the courage to tell us kids about her discovery. I don’t know for sure, but based on the emails she sent me during that time I think she was worried that we kids would feel slighted by her search- as though we weren’t enough for her. I never felt that way- I knew how much the unanswered questions and the fears pulled at her heart. I understood her need to find him and know he was okay, to know she hadn’t made a terrible choice all those years ago.

I have to admit here that I had very mixed feelings about the reunion as far as myself and Chris went. I was so happy for my mom, but I just couldn’t find it in myself to see him as my brother. My brothers were those boys who I babysat when I didn’t want to. The ones who I had funny stories and inside jokes to share with. The ones who made me laugh, and cry, and fume, and worry. The ones who I spent my entire childhood with. How do you see a stranger as important as those you grew up with? When talking about him to my friends, I would usually stumble on what label to use. Sometimes I called him my moms oldest son, sometimes I called him my half-brother, other times I’d just say “my brother, kind of”. I just couldn’t figure out how to give him the same label as my two (sometimes annoying but very wonderful) little brothers.

Despite that conflict of heart, I chatted with him via email, IM, and fb messages because I was curious to know how he was. I liked him right away. He is an artist, making beautiful pieces of pottery- one of which sits in prominence in my kitchen to this day. He is married and has two adorable little children. He is nice and funny and he thinks my photography is beautiful. So I guess for a while there I saw him as a really cool cousin type person, or a good friend who had a past history with my mother. I didn’t feel any negative feelings about him; I just didn’t understand how to fit him into my idea of my immediate family.

Well... things change. So do feelings and understanding. Chris called me about a month ago to let me know that he was going to be working near our hometown and that he was ready to meet us siblings. He had met my mother in person a few months back, and she had been giving him hints that she’d like him to come here to meet us. (Knowing my mother, the hints were not very subtle!) But he had one condition, he wanted to surprise mom. So we planned a surprise dinner at my parents’ house and carried it out this past Thursday.

I won’t go through the entire evening, but I will share the results. I had thought the meeting would be great for our mom, and that it would be nice to finally meet Chris in person. I had no idea that I would go home that night knowing that I had gained an older brother. I had no idea that I would see a photo of us together the next day and realize that it was complete. As I said before, I had a wonderful childhood and I am not saying it was not complete- but looking at that picture of the four of us just seems right. It feels like I had put this puzzle together long ago and had thought it was great. But I hadn’t noticed that a piece was missing until someone put it into place. I looked at that picture of us for so long, stunned at the feeling of wholeness.

A funny thing happened in the course of that evening. I quit trying to figure out how Chris fit in. I didn’t have to figure it out, because there was nothing to figure out. He just fit. We all fit. In the course of a few hours I went from stumbling over “my brother, kind of” to just “my brother” when talking about Chris to my friends. Because he might not have grown up with us, he might have his own history and a whole different family- but he is still my brother. I spent years knowing I had an older brother out there somewhere, and then I spent a few years knowing I had an older brother living only a few hours and an email away. But he was always this abstract concept. Now he is real, he is a part of our lives, and I look forward to getting to know him better and to sharing the coming years with him.

I think all our lives are changed for the better from that night, and it all goes back to one woman and her desire to help strangers reunite and to my brothers’ courage and his desire to meet his siblings. Thank you doesn’t say enough, but it is all I have. So Thank You to my moms’ adoption angel. You are a beautiful person. And thank you to my brother Chris; I think our family has a beautiful future waiting for us.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

March 24, 2011 ~ The Surprise of My Life!!

A day that at one time I thought would never happen.  All of my kids ~ together ~ in one place!

Last Thursday I came home from work and saw my daughters van in the driveway.  Nothing unusual.  Then I saw my son & his wife's car.  Still not too unusual, but they usually tell me they are coming.  The grandkids were all playing outside so I went to visit them for a while.  As I was walking to the little ones on the swingset, I was joking with them asking why they were here.  One of the three year olds said "We are surprising you!"  I told her she sure did surprise me.  Then one of the others said that mom and dad were making dinner for me too.

As I was walking into the house, I was thinking that it doesn't get much better than this ~ I get to see all my grandkids and don't even have to cook dinner.  I assumed they would be fixing something quick and easy, but all four of them were working in the kitchen, cooking a really good dinner, making it even better.  There was even dessert!

I took the baby, who was one month old that day.  (My kids made that out to be the reason they came over, so my daughters kids could see the new little one as they have only seen him a few times.)  A few minutes later I was in the living room secretly helping one of my youngest granddaughters rock the baby (she had been told she had to wait till after dinner) when daddy came in and without saying anything took his baby from her.  I said "uh oh ~ we are busted!".  I turned around to head into the kitchen to see how things were going, got about two steps and saw Christopher had walked into the house!!!

I could not believe my eyes!  I thought I was going to have a heart attack my heart was beating so fast!

Christopher travels for work, was working only about an hour away from us last week  When he found out about a month ago that he would be so close, he called the kids to plan a surprise visit.  It was a surprise all right!  I had NO clue anything was going on at all.  I later found out that almost everyone knew, even everyone at work.

It was so amazing to see him in our house, so wonderful to see my children meet each other for the first time. There was LOTS of laughter, talking, comparing, and photo taking.  It is so unbelievable how much he resembles my raised kids, how well they all got along ~ from the very first moment.  There was not one uncomfortable minute, for anyone.  From the minute he walked in the house it was as though he belonged here.

Christopher even brought his school-years scrapbook.  I finally got to see photos of him as a child.  The youngest photo was his preschool photo at 5 years old, all the way through his high school graduation.  Many  keepsakes, handmade treasures from elementary school.

It was the most amazing evening in my entire life!  Four glorious hours that will never be forgotten.

About an hour after Christopher left, I sent him a text saying that I hoped his travels were coming to a safe end.  He replied that he had just arrived, and that he forgot to get his scrapbook.  Just as I was thinking that I would mail it to him, I was reading the rest of his text message.  "I will get it when I come back next month."

My heart stopped.  I couldn't believe that he was already planning on a return trip.  I found myself wondering what I have ever done to deserve this.

To be one of the lucky ones whose child, lost to adoption, wants to be a part of their first families lives.

I am so very blessed, so very happy, so very complete.  

Thursday, March 24, 2011 was a dream come true.

Monday, March 14, 2011

New Design!

I totally did not plan on re-designing my blog!  I stumbled across the Shabby Blogs website, and remembered that whenever I visit Linda's blog I want to check it out.  I found myself lost in browsing through all her fun stuff, watching tutorials, and playing with my blog.

Through Shabby Blogs, I found FotoFlexer.com too.  What a mistake!  It is so cool and so much fun, I didn't realize how much time I had wasted there. 

That's it for tonight.  Just some fun creative time for once ~ I haven't done that for a long time!


Susie

Thursday, March 10, 2011

There Are So Many Silences To Be Broken

“The fact that we are here and that I speak these words is an attempt to break that silence and bridge some of those differences between us, for it is not difference which immobilizes us, but silence.

And there are so many silences to be broken.”
—Audre Lorde

One of my blogging friends has suffered through tremendous personal attacks and a great loss in this last week or so.  I wish I was eloquent enough to find the words to say what I have been feeling about the situation.  

Yesterday, Cassie (who is always wonderful with words) wrote what I could not.

Today, I ran across the quote above.

THAT is why I blog here.  To break my silence.  There are too many silences in adoption. 

The adoption industry benefits from these silences. 
I think that everyone involved in any way with adoption
are victims of the greed in the adoption industry. 
Even the ones who adopt are victims of the lies.
For if the truth of infant adoption was known by all,
they would lose their billion+ dollar income every year.


People believe what they hear the most
and most people only hear about the "sunshine and rainbows" of adoption. 

The adoption industry spends millions of dollars on advertising. 
They spend millions of dollars in research finding ways to ensure that a women facing
an unexpected pregnancy will consider adoption. 

Then when she considers adoption, they have spent millions of dollars researching
the right things to say to ensure that she chooses adoption.
They often even help counsel how to hide the pregnancy from the father
so that  he will not "interrupt" the adoption process.

This is all a big part of why society doesn't know about the loss in adoption. 
In some cases, it may be more accurate to say that they WON'T hear about the loss of adoption. 
Because it is thought that those speaking out are just "bitter birthmoms" or "angry adoptees".
Because society has been brainwashed from youth about how wonderful adoption is. 
After all, doesn't it give a home to an unwanted child? 

The truth is that most newborns available for domestic infant adoption in the United States
are very much loved and wanted by their mothers and their fathers. 

Society looks down on and oppresses single mothers. 
Society looks down on an oppresses those in the lower/lower-middle class.

So when a single woman becomes pregnant,
especially if she is deemed "poor",
one of the first things many people believe is that
she should make "the loving choice"
and put her child up for adoption. 


This is why I will continue to blog.

It is through the oppression of adoptees and first moms (and dads) that the silence was the norm.
Now mothers in open adoptions are finding themselves oppressed because they cannot speak of the truth of their pain and loss or they may find their adoptions closed by the very people who, while the mother was pregnant, was promised the world and treated like a saint. 

I feel as though I was a part of why this oppression is a factor.
Because I didn't speak of my grief, my deep sorrow.
I did appear to have "just gone on with my life"
I did go on to "have children of my own"

As Cassie explains below: 
And it is First Moms like who I once was and many of the ones you see today who have a part in why this particular mom is being met with such hostility and anger. Why the adoptive parents expected her to be happy and content and couldn’t imagine the loss of her son would hurt so bad.

Because, though not intentionally, we set the standard that is expected from moms who have lost their children to adoption. We give the belief that it’s okay. That it doesn’t tear us apart, rip everything from the very depths of our souls. Change everything we are and everything we are yet to become.

We provide the proof, for those who seek it, for something that, when truly thought about, doesn’t make sense in any way. We justify what is unjustifiable – the terrible pain of losing a child. We become the balm over that deep, forbidden knowledge that losing a child is a horrific event that nobody should ever have to suffer through.

We become the poster child for what they want,
what they so desperately need to believe.
 I will continue to speak out.  Not because I am a "bitter birthmom", because I am not.  

I will speak out for future mothers and their children, 
for prospective adoptive parents, 
for anyone who wants to open their minds to the truth of adoption.  

The truth that adoption is built first and foremost on great loss that in many cases is unnecessary.
For the child or for the mother and father.


Friday, February 25, 2011

My New Grandson!


I would like to introduce you to my beautiful new grandson Drake!  He is one day old in this photo.  Drake was born yesterday, weighs in at 6 pounds and 14 ounces, he is almost 21 inches long.  He is absolutely perfect in every way!  Momma is a super-hero, only in labor for about 5 hours and this is her first baby!  She better not be too far from the hospital next time...

It was such a beautiful day, an extremely happy day.  My worries were for nothing.  My entire being was in the moment of watching my son become a daddy again, seeing my brand new grandson be welcomed into the world. 

On the way home, of course my mind began to wander.  Remembering the births of my own children.  I of course thought of Christopher's.  I am still rather thankful that I don't remember it.  Only slight memories, like fog covered split-second moments, nothing solid.  Although, it does make me wonder if they gave me something...  If there is a reason I don't remember...  It wouldn't surprise me to find out that they did....

I was rather surprised that I wasn't sad at all yesterday, I only felt complete happiness for Drake and his parents. 

Then today...



An old Tracy Chapman song came on that I haven't heard for a long time.  Of course it had a completely different meaning this time. 

And now.  The thoughts are circling in my head.  I can't get them out...

It breaks my heart..
    For Christopher, much more than for me.
That I wasn't allowed to love him, hold him, let him feel the beating heart that was all he knew before he was born. 

It haunts me.  The thought of that innocent baby.  Taken from his mother immediately.  I pray that the nurses found time to love on him, to nurture him while he was in the hospital.  I pray that the foster family held him and loved on him always while he waited till his parents arrived.  I hope...

It is killing me, the thought of Christopher not getting the loving entry into the world that every innocent baby deserves.  The thought of that innocent baby boy, taken away from all that he knew.  I wish I had been smarter and wiser then, would have been strong enough to stand up against the "norm" then...   I wish I hadn't been worried that I would fall too much in love with him if I didn't follow "their" rules.  (It was too late for that anyways, I already had.)  I wish I would have thought about what Christopher needed at that moment, not what I or "they" needed.

       If I could time travel, I would tell the nurses and FloCrit to go to hell, that I was going to love him while I could, that I was not going to abandon him immediately after birth...

As I shared in my previous blog post, I was worried that this first birth after our reunion was going to stir up things for me.  I just didn't expect a song the next day to spill it over the edge...

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

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...

Monday, February 14, 2011

"Adoption Myth Buster: What It Takes To Wake"

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


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


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


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


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


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


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


I cannot agree more with one of the last sentences in the article:
To force a mother to choose between keeping her offspring or losing acceptance by the culture is to force her to split in half and as a result, to collapse. Rather than divide mothers, can we keep women intact, empower them and thus empower children to feel whole, safe and content?  
Indeed.  What a world it would be if we could do this! 

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Adoptee Rights Demonstration


Adoptee Rights Day and the Adoptee Rights Demonstration is August 8th this year in San Antonio, Texas.  Each year, Adoptee Rights Activists protest at the National Convention of State Legislators in demand of the return of the right of Adult Adoptees to access their Original Birth Certificates

 I hope that someday I can participate in something like this.  
Here are a few blog posts about this event.


Adoptee Rights Demonstration

Angry Adoptive Mom

Adoptee Rights Coalition

The Declassified Adoptee

Saturday, February 5, 2011

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.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

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!

Sunday, January 23, 2011

"The Other"




I watched the above video, posted at this blog today.  I started to write a comment, but it kinda turned into a blog post instead of a comment.  


I couldn't help but think of "The Other" in my case being an adoptive mother or a prospective adoptive mother.  I kept finding myself thinking that The Other would never come to see adoption from my point of view, as adoption to The Other is not about loss of a child.  To The Other, I am someone who wants to take away her ability to become a mother.


I am not anti-adoption, I am pro-family preservation.  "The Other" looks at me as someone who wants to keep children in families with parents who are unworthy of being parents.  Too young, not married, too poor, etc.  Often times The Other looks at adoption in these cases as "saving" the child from a life not-good-enough.


Family preservation and Pro-adoption.  Both sides are convinced that their view is the correct view.  Both sides see that they are looking at adoption as what is best for the child.  Will these two sides ever come together?  


Will the adoptee voice ever be taken into consideration?

Monday, January 17, 2011

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.  

Thursday, January 6, 2011

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.