Putting Up Walls

I had some comments on my last post that I was going to reply to, but decided to write a new post instead. 

First, about comparing reunions.  

I was generalizing in my thoughts about the different things I read at FMF.  There are many who do not fall into the "worst case scenario" when it comes to reunion, but there are many who do.  I want any expectant mother considering adoption who may stumble onto my blog to know the possibilities of "what may be" if they allow adoption into their lives.  They are not giving up their motherhood for only 18 years, it may be forever.  Reunion isn't a sure thing.  Growing a loving relationship after reunion isn't a sure thing. 

Isn't that part of what is so hard in navigating through a reunion?  There is nothing to compare to.  There are also no "rules" to follow.  When there are no rules or nothing to compare your reunion to, there is no real way to go into reunion except with trial and error.  Hopefully the error isn't enough to completely de-rail the reunion.  What works for one person will horribly fail for another.  All we can hope for is that all parties are in it for the best, and are willing to get to know each other despite ourselves.

Now for the part that has really been bothering me.

Putting up walls.

Linda said... I love the "I took the baby I gave up for adoption out of the day" comment. Once I let go of the baby who was given up for adoption (me) it really helped me. I cannot change what my Mother went through, and I cannot change what was done to me. It's taken me 45 years to get to this point.

I don't remember who it was that gave me that advice.  To take the baby I gave up out of my reunion with Christopher.  It was the best advice I received, and was a tremendous help to me when I was first navigating through reunion.  It helped me be happy to get to know the young man who Christopher is, instead of only being sad about the baby who grew up without me.  It didn't always help, there were and still are times it is impossible to take the baby out of the equation.  I love Linda's words "I cannot change what my Mother went through, and I cannot change what was done to me" ~ substitute son for mother, and it's taken me 48 years to get to this point!

lolokey said... I wasn't sure, so I went back and checked. When you met your son for your first f2f he told you one of the conditions was that you couldn't cry! Maybe you put that wall up at his request, not yours? (which by the way is a very maternal thing to do!)

Yes, that was his one condition to meeting that October day last year.  He said I couldn't cry.  Which I didn't think was going to be a problem, as I have been unable to cry in front of anyone for years.  I had become an expert at putting up the walls and not letting out my emotions.  So having Christopher put that request out there only made it more necessary for me to put and keep that wall up.  It became necessary to me to completely take that baby out of the day, in order to make it through meeting the wonderful young man without tears for the baby I lost. 

The thing that really bothers me though is that I have become so good at burying the emotions.  I feel as though it's emotionally unhealthy for me, it makes me angry at myself, it just plain drives me crazy that I don't/can't cry over all of this.  Or is it?  Am I mental (quit nodding), or is it something else?

lolokey said...I struggle with putting walls up as well. Maybe the most important thing is that we allow ourselves to feel the emotions, not beat ourselves up about when we do (or don't) feel them. Maybe we can start to learn to see our walls as a place to lean on when we need support and not use them to protect ourselves.

Is my lack of crying because I buried the tears?  Or have I actually come to a place of.... acceptance?  Maybe I need to quit beating myself up for what I think is not feeling the emotions.  I do feel love, fear, worry, etc. for Christopher, for all the loved ones in my life.  Have I been leaning on my walls, not hiding behind them?  This all sounds so stupid when I go back and read these last words.  I so wish that I was able to get the swirling thoughts out of my head and into a sentence that makes sense when written!!  I guess what I need to do is take lolokey's advice and not beat myself up for not feeling the emotions.  Because maybe that's not what's going on after all. 

*sigh*

I wish there was a guide book for all of this...

Susie

Thoughts from First Mother Forum

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Mara

The Invitation - by Oriah

I was reading through some of my favorite poems today and found this old favorite. It speaks to me today, so I thought I would share it with all of you.

The Invitation

by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know
if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me
what planets are
squaring your moon...
I want to know
if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.

It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
"Yes."

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know
if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.

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

A Mother's Song - taking the crisis out of pregnancy

I found a wonderful new website for mothers considering adoption.  A Mothers Song ~ taking the crisis out of pregnancy is a wonderful resource that I am very glad to have found. How I wish that every mother considering adoption could find this website in order to make a truly informed decision!

I am going to add this to my "Learn" page, but wanted to give it some more attention and help spread the word of this website.  Here is the article that brought me to discover this wonderful resource:

Letter From "Adoptable" Baby to Adoptive Parent

by Julie A. Rist

To Whom it May Concern:
I miss and need my mother. It is no matter to me, the circumstances that led to this day. I am not aware of them. I will not understand them for many years to come – if ever. All I know is that my mother has disappeared. Please show me empathy for this profound loss until and unless I tell you I no longer need it.
Never forget that I spent the first months of my life with my mother getting to know, intimately, her voice, her heartbeat, her taste, her scent, her rhythms, her laughter, and so much more. She has been my Universe since the day I was conceived. Because I am human, I was designed to need and want the familiarity of these things upon emergence from her womb to make me feel safe, to trust, and to feel a part of the Family of Man.
Never forget I have lost these things. I have lost my Universe. I may be your Universe now, but you are not mine now.
Despite your desire for a baby, please understand that, to me, you do not smell right, sound right… feel right. Because of this, understand that I am going to resist you. Understand that I will not trust you, because I lost my nascent sense of trust when I lost my mother. I will have to learn a different kind of trust, and that will take a great deal of work on your part.
Also understand that I will carry the memory of my loss (though hidden from my conscious memory) forever. My bones know it, my heart knows it, my soul knows it. Whether you are honest with me or not, I will always know it, so it would be wise not set up a scenario for my feelings of your betrayal.
I was born with a given set of characteristics and personality. They will not reflect those of your own family. I compel you to honor and respect them. Do not try to mold me to your own; I will resent it forever. If you truly care about my well-being you must perceive, respect, and nurture the person I was born to be. You must also honor and respect my own family - and my relationship to it.
If there is even one feeling or request that you find uncomfortable in this notice, please return me forthwith to my mother. For all her faults, she is still what I want and need most. I would rather live with her in a cold-water flat with just a few rags of clothing than in your 4-bedroom house with a fenced yard and nice dog.
Thank you.
Sincerely,

 

Copyright © Julie A. Rist 2007

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