Picking Scabs-

It occurs to me that once I wrote about healing, and how to do it. I was talking to my daughter yesterday and we got onto that subject. Via my talking about a paper I did on suicide, PTSD, natural mothers and adoptees. Gotta love Abnormal Psych and it's subjects yeah? Anyway, I did well on the paper, not as well as I thought I should have, but that's ok. My professor told me in part it was because of personal bias. Well duh-how could there not be some personal bias in a subject so near and dear (?) to my heart?

I said that re-visiting our trauma's is a bit like picking a scab off of a wound. You can only do that so often, making yourself bleed, over and over just isn't healthy. Eventually you have to let scar tissue form, sure it might crack open occasionally and bleed a bit, but you have to be okay with that. I stopped picking scabs a couple of years ago, I found that having relived my trauma over and over, learning to deal with the emotions I had helped me to deal with that trauma. I can't change what happened, I can live with that. I truly believe that once you come to that point, further therapy really does no good. All you can do once you get there is rip the scab off again. Instead of good healthy scar tissue, you have a festering wound that just keeps bleeding. Why would anyone want to do that? I don't understand it at all..

If you feel as if you have gotten all you can get out of a particular therapy, then perhaps it is time to move on- if you have learned to use the tools you have been given, then why keep on going through the same exercises over and over ad infinitum? Does that make any sort of sense? I don't think so- but perhaps some of you have different ideas? Please share if you do. As for me? Well I think scar tissue is much better than an open festering wound you keep picking at, don't you?

It's Been An Strange Year~

I have been reading past posts and comments today. Sadly, I still see the same sniping and fighting I have in the past. School has been a long haul this semester-worth the effort yes, but guh, buried in reading and work.

I have read much about Grayson and his father, and wannabe parents- I am so very angry at the whole situation. Once again an agency and people who think they are better than natural family, who are so entitled and arrogant have tried to deprive a father of his child. They lost, they have lost at every turn, because for once the court system actually worked as it was intended to. And you know what? They still won't give u! They got bad advice, had a bad attorney, and bad spirtual guidance. It's sickening to me that even after they have been shown over and over that their adoption was not and never was going to be allowed to go forward that they continue. They have many "fans" both on their website and Facebook. Never in my life have I ever come across such a bunch of ignorant gits. The things they have said are just mind boggling. If you would like to read more about it please visit The Daily Basterdetter, or BirthMother FirstMother forum. Many good post's about the situation-

As for me- well today I am off to finish baking and shopping. Then tonight wrapping and other prep for this weekend. I hope all of you have a safe and wonderful Christmas and New Year's. I am thinking about all of you my friends- this time of year is so hard for so many of us, and it even in reunion it can be hard. So know that I am sending all the best to you and yours~

This post caught my eye-

Nutcookie found it elsewhere- see her post here: http://nutcookie.blogspot.com/2010/11/on-scale-from-1-to-10.html

On a scale of 1-10, 1 being the bottom of course-I know where I fall, as does the Nutcookie- how about you?

1. Being unable to raise your child

2. Having your child not have access to sealed and amended information

3. Losing your child without the ability to have a connect to you and your family

4. Having unequal rights in the U.S.

5. Adoption stereotypes that are applied to mothers

6. Not being able to see your child grow up

7. Knowing your child has no access to family medical information that could save their lives

8. Being looked at by everyone, family or not, with disdain, pity, disgust or hatred

9. Not having verifiable answers to your questions

10. The way the media talks about mothers

Time Is A Face On The Water~

I wonder if any of you understand that phrase? I read it for the first time in a Stephen King novel (from his Dark Tower Series) and it resonated then as it does now-

When I think about time, I often wonder where it went. Other days I wonder how it could have passed so slowly- 21 years seemed like 210 years. Thinking about my daughter and wondering where she was, how she was, or the worst thought, was she alive?

Think about that for a while, let that thought percolate through your brain and really think about it. Can you imagine having to wonder if you child was alive and well? It's excruciating, and wounds in way's I can't begin to explain.

I look around me and see people like John Wyatt, who is embroiled in a case in Utah with Larry "The Dick" Jenkins leading the charge to keep his child from him. I wonder how that man can sleep at night. Tanya O'Dea asked him that very question on Thursday-he couldn't even look her in the eye, his lip quivered and he cut her off. Hoping to cut off the voice of his conscience perhaps? To still the small part of himself that recoils in horror from what he is doing to men like John Wyatt and Cody O'Dea? I see comments on news stories that spew the same BS the NCFA spews, the same BS agencies spew, the same BS so many adopters spew. Where in any of this are the mother and father actually accorded the full protection of law and the justice system? Why is it that a child born in Virginia, is subject to Utah Law, when her father did everything he could to see her, and claim her, and assert his parental rights? Why is it ok for adopters to take that child to another state and defy the courts in Virginia? Why is it ok for the courts in Utah to defy the order of a Virginia court? Simply because the couple brought Emma to Utah? Because Jenkins and his ilk say so? Because they are "the real parents" but are really only the babysitters, who have kept Emma from her father for months. When they should have returned her the very minute, THE VERY MINUTE they knew her father wanted to raise her. Now they are going to use the tired old arguement that they are her "only family" in order to keep a child who is not their own?

Then I think of that phrase again-and wonder if Emma will understand it, will she know that her daddy fought for her if he loses this battle? Will Cody's child know he fought as well? Will the children who's families fought for them in the end know how hard they tried, and end up as so many do, resenting, or outright hating their adoptive family for lying and hiding the truth? Will they understand that their families did all that they could to bring them home? Will they know and understand? I hope they will, I believe they will. And in the end, I hope the people responsible for these atrocities pay for them. In the words of my daughter "May They Get Exactly What They Deserve." Think about that for awhile, yeah pretty scary isn't it?

Think about this-then tell me

what you think,what does this remind you of?

Memory at its finest lacks corroboration
—no photographs, no diaries—
nothing to pin the past on the present with, to make it stick.
Just because you've got this idea
of red fields stretching along the tertiary roads
of Saskatchewan, like blazing, contained fires —
just because somewhere in your memory
there's a rust-coloured pulse
taking its place among canola yellow
and flax fields the huddled blue of morning azures—
just because you want to
doesn't mean you can
build a home for that old, peculiar ghost.

Someone tells you you've imagined it,
that gash across the ripe belly of summer,
and for a year, maybe two, you believe them.
Maybe you did invent it, maybe as you leaned,
to escape the heat, out the Pontiac's backseat window
you just remembered it that way
because you preferred the better version.

Someone tells you this.
But what can they know of faith?
To ask you to leave behind this insignificance.
This innocence that can't be proved: what the child saw
of the fields as she passed by, expecting nothing.

You have to go there while there's still time.
Back to the red flag of that field, blazing in the wind.
While you're still young enough to remember
a flame planted along a road. While you're still
seeing more than there is to see.


"Durum wheat" by Lisa Martin-Demoor, from One Crow Sorrow. © Brindle & Glass, 2008.

There is a Languor of the Life - Emily Dickinson

There is a Languor of the Life
More imminent than Pain —
'Tis Pain's Successor — When the Soul
Has suffered all it can —

A Drowsiness — diffuses —
A Dimness like a Fog
Envelops Consciousness —
As Mists — obliterate a Crag.

The Surgeon — does not blanch — at pain
His Habit — is severe —
But tell him that it ceased to feel —
The Creature lying there —

And he will tell you — skill is late —
A Mightier than He —
Has ministered before Him —
There's no Vitality.



You may question why I have posted this, but if you knew me, really knew me, you would not question, you would nod, and know I have moved beyond this. That the anger and pain I once felt has changed and morphed with time. If you really knew me, you would know that this blog is not about me blathering on about what I don't have, or about what I have lost, it's about me educating others. It's about me getting on with my life, and loving those I am fortunate enough to have in that life. It's about doing the best I can to truly live.

When I started this so long ago, there were many reasons for doing so. Anger and pain were among those reasons I won't lie and say they weren't. But, this was also a place to explore how I felt, to work out those things and to learn. And, yes, I have learned, a mountain of things. Good things, not so good, and downright bad. But all things that needed to be learned.

If you were to ask me today about the state of my reunion, I could tell you honestly that it's good, it's not the be all and end of life these days. But, that is as it should be. I love my daughter, she loves me, we have a good relationship. That's all I ever wanted for us. It's all that matters to me. I don't spend time obsessing over every little thing that happened to us anymore. Why would I? Will it change any of it? Of course not, nothing can change it. Do I still think about it all some days? Of course I do, what mother wouldn't? (Well ok, there are some, but I am not one of them)Do I still hate adoption and what it did to my life, and what it does to others lives? You bet, hate it, want it all to end- and that is why I still write about it.

These days I am far too busy with school, trying to find steady work and dealing with what I have here at home to obsess over all the little stuff. I just don't have time for it. I have enough to do without spending my time worrying about some fool who left an anonymous comment saying horrible things that are not only untrue, but unfair. Why would I waste my time on it? Not that I can't tell who said it, or where they were, and all that jazz. I just will not waste my time over it. It is not worth it.

Tonight it is very quiet here, there is rain on my roof, and once in awhile I hear a distant boom of thunder (or closer) and see the sky light up. I listen to my son playing Mario. My others are not here, and there is no one else to make noise here. So I contemplate things like the poem I posted. I first heard a snippet of it on BSG, and loved it so much that I had to look it up. I did not realize what it was about until I read it entire. Then I knew it could have been me writing when my pain was at it's worst. When I felt there was nothing more that could be done to me, that I had suffered all that a person could. It's odd how clearly you can see that once you have clawed your way back to some semblence of normalcy and balance. I know that there are things I could do better, certainly there are. There is always something, you can do better, As a parent, as a person- but we don't always do things in the best way. We can always improve, it's a thing we all work on.

I have said it before, I am a work in progress, flawed, feeling, and all too human. Like some of you who read here. We are all works in progress, let's try to remember that shall we?

Just So We're Clear

I Do Not Publish Anonymous comments, whether they are kind or hurtful-

Also, so we are clear, this is my place to write my thoughts out, to talk about my feelings, my life, and my experiences. I am not going to stop writing, so once more I will say this. If you don't like what I have to say, don't read it.

That is all~

It's Been Awhile

This post edited for clarity of thought- Because obviously I was very tired and it was not clear who I was speaking about in the latter part of my post. Forgive me, it's been a very stressful month for me.

I did some house cleaning for those of you who noticed. Peacekeeping mode kicked in and while I did say I don't want to play that role anymore, it was in my judgement a thing I had to do.

Things here have been far from peaceful, finals have come and gone, and my GPA is still a solid 3.0 which amazes me given the semester I had. What with people up and leaving, others getting sick, and still others questioning what I knew or don't know about some things going on in my own family.

See the funny thing is this, people can hide things right under your nose. That's why it's called hiding. I can grant you that as a parent I may have blinded myself to some things, what parent doesn't do that?

I am hurt beyond words, and dare I say it? Offended-yes, that is the word for how I feel. By those who sit in judgement of me, of what I say, do, don't do, of what I write. I am heartily sick of all of it. I am also tired of people making assumptions about what I write without asking for clarification.

I am not going to write about the people involved in any of the above things, that's their business and their story. As I say below, the people I care about, I tell them when I am upset. But as for the rest of them? Someday, there will be a reckoning, and I will have my say. If that burns a bridge(s) so be it- Because the people I need to speak my mind to? They don't really matter to me in the long run, but speaking my mind to them will surely make me feel a whole better in the long run.

ETA: IF you think I was writing about those closest to me or to mine when I spoke about having my say, then you are quite sadly mistaken. What I have to say to those I care about, I say-

This is an excellent post

Anger- yep it's about anger. You know what I am angry as hell too. I am angry that the system failed all of us, I am angry that women are lied to over and over and mislead- I am angry that my child was hurt. In fact I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore! Go read this post- and visit me tomorrow for another post. It's been percolating in my brain for days now, and tonight I think I can finally write it~

Cassi- you are amazing!

http://adoptiontruth-casjoh.blogspot.com/

I am-

A slug, I haven't written in weeks- school is kicking my arse and things going on at home have had me quite depressed- but today I found this post and wanted to share it-

http://nutcookie.blogspot.com/2010/04/history-of-our-generations.html

So well said-

And this post, took my breath away and I found myself in tears again, and thinking of my mama-

http://nutcookie.blogspot.com/2010/04/on-death-and-dyingpretty-much.html

Out of the Fog: Oh Yes, Please Save My Soul

Out of the Fog: Oh Yes, Please Save My Soul

Amazing, truly amazing- are there really people who believe the crap this woman wrote? Sadly, the answer is yet-

Please Vote!

There is only a week left for this, please vote!

http://www.change.org/ideas/view/return_adult_adoptees_the_right_to_their_original_birth_certificates

Excellent Post by Lori~

http://nutcookie.blogspot.com/2010/02/moral-majority.html

Names-

What's in a name? A Rose by any other name would smell as sweet~ Shakespeare

Right, and he didn't know what the hell he was talking about when he wrote that line. Because seriously, if you don't think names are important to our lost ones you are so very wrong.

Imagine being called one name your entire life and then finding out you were born with a different name? A name that was given a lot of thought, one that took months to choose. Then boom, along comes a new family and that name goes away, until one day you find say a letter, with your actual name from birth in it? Can you imagine the kind of wierdness that comes after that?

Can you imagine looking in a mirror and saying:
"Hi ----, I'm ----" - "Hi ---, I'm ---" same person two names and you have to figure out who you are all over again. I can't imagine how frakked up that has to be for an adoptee.

I can imagine all too well what can happen if the adult adoptee decides for themselves to take back that name, and make it their own. The fall out has to be tremendous. (Don't ask, I do know) But the best thing to do? Don't let it own you, let those who have the problem own their stuff, you own your stuff. It's really that simple- You make your choice, and you stick to it- and no one gets to tell what to do. You decide, you are the master of your own fate-

Once again I say- life just is- and for that I am grateful. Becuase once in awhile, life cuts you some slack, and things happen that amaze you, even if they aren't done for you, the effect is huge-

By the way, did I mention I am totally in love with my daughter? Yeah, I am- she's amazing, and lovely, and I am so proud of the woman she has become....

Not an If So Girl~

I wrote about those If-Then statements and how they can cause so much hurt and pain- today let's look at If-So

The first time you hear if in adoption is most likely in a statment like this one "If you love your child then.." So what does that tell you from the get go?

It tells me that love is used as a weapon, and that weapon can cut so deeply that the scars never fade-

Consider this quote-

"How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back? There are some things time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep that have taken hold." Frodo Baggins~

When you think about that, it explains so much of my life, how do you do those things? How do you carry on when there is no going back? No do overs? No magic wands? No miracles that let us go back the beginning and start again, and avoid the traps that were lying in wait for us.

But, there are no do overs - it is, what it is. Nothing changes it, nothing fixes it, there are no do overs-

If-So has another meaning for me- if this happens, then this follows, so it makes sense not to do that if the consequences are negative yes?

How could I have been an If-So girl if I didn't know all the consequences?

Yeah exactly- Not an If-So girl-

If-Then-

So, the last couple of days have been pretty hard on a mom friend of mine. She is losing her husband to cancer, and dealing with has got to be one of the hardest things in the world. I know I lost my mom, not so long ago, not the same as a spouse of course, but watching my pop's grieve? Yeah I get it-

So suddenly there are all these negative comments being posted to her blog- by some very angry, very ugly adoptees- Don't people think? EVER?

If you are a mom, then you have no dignity- if you are a mom, you spread your legs, you made your choice, you signed the papers- and on and on and on.

When does this end for us? Does it ever end? If you are so angry about your problems then why take it out on those of us trying to figure out how to heal, to make things better, to actually live our lives without the turmoil, and pain?

I am so sick inside when I read some of those if-then lines these days. Do not any of you ever stop to consider that we moms have feelings too? We hurt, we bleed, we cry, we love, we live, we lose those we love, and stil we are supposed to give all to our children regardless of how invasive it is, how our children (adults!) want to know all the nitty gritty details of our lives, Guess what? Some of it is private- and some of it no one knows but us. And, guess what else? We want to keep it that way. Call it unfair, call it wrong, but every person deserves to be able to keep some things to themselves. I have never denied my daughter any information (just for the record) there are things we have not talked about yet, but that is because it's hard to talk about some things on the phone or in an email. Face to face works so much better- body language and tone of voice convey so much more than mere words on the phone or a sheet of "paper."

I feel as if these days I must defend every mother out there- it's like a wave crashing over us- so much anger and hate and pain, and yes, rage..

Guess what? We feel those things too- and just like you, we have to deal with it. Sadly, from what I have seen and read in the last 72 hours or so, alot of you need to do a lot of work and learn that if you are this angry and hurt, then you need help~

Sine Qua Non-

Without which not~

So what does that mean to us? The mother's of loss, the mother's of exile? How does it inform us/or inform others about us.

Without which not- think about that, I mean really think about it. Would any of us be here without what happened to us? Our experiences, our reunions, or lack thereof- about the craziness that our lives become?

Then again, without what happened to me, would I be the same person, yes I know I would still be me, but would my life be very different? Would my course have been easier, harder? I don't know, all I can say is, I know it would have been different.

Just as I know my daughter's life would have been different- not better, not worse, just different.

I think often of her father and the things he must tell himself to justify in his own mind what he did, or failed to do. I think out of everything I have learned over the last almost 6 years, this bothers me the most. (Well that, and some people who think I am crazy and insane, which btw I am not)On many levels I can understand why he would need to do this, I get it, I really do. I grok it- what I can't understand, is why he must continue to do this. I know men are different, they think differently, perhaps it's a matter of his own emotional survival. Because really, if he told himself the truth wouldn't be telling himself he abandoned me, and our daughter? (And he did) That is a hard thing to think about yourself, and I should know, I have felt that too. As in "How could you do that to her? You just left her?" thoughts- I wonder if he ever has those fleeting thoughts, the what if's- if he ever thinks about Sine Qua Non -Without Which Not- If he ever regrets just leaving us, and not trying to fight for my daughter. I know he has had a basically good life, has a wife he loves completely, and is content.

But...

I still wonder what would have happened- and I think often about Sine Qua Non- Without Which Not-

For want of a nail yes?

Perfectly Flawed-

Deleted by mistake-



Reminds me of adoption all too much, but of myself as well- thank you Guy~

So- Perfectly Flawed~

That song got me thinking- Perfectly Flawed? Or, Beautifully Broken? Are we mom's both those things? Are we broken, and then made whole? Do our flaws make us beautiful and unique?

I have a user icon that has the words Beautifully Broken on it- (yes from the song, I first saw it used by my friend Suz, and co-opted it because it fits) Which was the prompt that had my friend Guy post the song I myself posted last night.

It has in the lyrics the words "work in progress" and "Cracks in glass" One of my dear, dear friends, (GG) called me a mosaic, and a work in progress. I like that, because really aren't we all works in progress? Do we not evolve, change and become different people over the course of our years, and through our experience's?

I don't know how I came to where I am now, all I know is I like where I am.

Student, mother, daughter, lover- all those things and more- not exactly in that order of course- but all those things are good things. Wonderful things, amazing things, and sometimes sad things-

We all talk about loss in this thing called adoption, grief, pain, denial, and more grief- But I really want all of us to be able to talk about the good things in life too. Like the joy you find in being found, the joy of knowing, and finally being able to put some of the ghosts to rest- the joy of being one whole again once the missing piece is found..

Because the thing is, the broken part comes not only from the loss, but from the not knowing, the not being able to grieve. Grief smacks you right upside the head when you are found/or you find-and then all these emotions come flooding back, the pain is trebled over what it was you thought it was at the start- But then once the floodgates open, and it's spilling out of you, and the bleeding that started with the loss starts to lessen, and then the wound begins to heal, and one day you wake up and realize, while you may still be broken in ways that will never heal, you are a whole person again. Stronger and braver than you ever imagined you could be.

I know people talk about "coming out the other side" but in order to do that, you have to remember this- to get past it, you have to go through it- a very wise young woman told me that. She was more right than I ever thought she was back then... I have come out the other side now- and really? It sure feels fine~

The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down~

It's Tuesday and snowing and I contemplating so many things. Reading a book called The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down- Anne Fadiman- a story about Hmong immigrants and their child who is ill, and the collision between their beliefs and Western Medicine.

What has struck me so far in the reading is how similar the collision is to the collision we as mothers faced. Caught between two things, the thing we wanted (to raise our babies) and the thing others wanted of us/for us to do.

Imagine if you will being in that place, where someone asks you to make two lists, one being: What can you give your baby? one being: What can a married couple give your baby?

Can you see how as a single parent the list you wrote for yourself would be quite short, especially if like many of us you were young and in school and not making much money?

Now imagine the other list- what do you think would be on that list?

I can tell you, the second list is always longer- ALWAYS-

Can you see the way in which this could be called coercion? Can you imagine looking at these lists you have made and comparing them? Which list do you think would win in that little exercise? Right, I thought so too.

So riddle me this, Why use this sort of thing? I find the answer quite simple, it's a not so subtle attempt to make you see things "their way" it's a not so subtle way of getting you ( the mother ) to see things in a different light. It's all about love, and how our love was manipulated by a system that has no interest in doing what is really best for us as mothers, and a system that has a very vested interest in having a baby they can "sell" to a "deserving happy family"

What they fail to explain to those of us who were caught in this collision, is this- even happily married couples get divorced, one or the other may die when a child is young, that in fact, that happily married couple is just as human, as we the mothers are. They have failings, and fears, and doubts just as we do. In short they fail to inform us, that just as we are, adoptive parents as all too human, just as we are.

Being human it all comes back to that- and thus the question becomes, How can humans (women and men) do the things they do to young, scared pregnant women? I wonder how some of them can sleep at night knowing all they do about what adoption does to both mother and child. And then I weep-

Regret~

"Don't live your life in regret" Zoe Greystone

That is a line from the show Caprica- I think it's a great line- in fact I think the show is going to be great- It has everything it needs to be a truly great show (or so I believe) but the show is not the point of this post- Although I do have to give a big shout out to Sasha Roiz and Esai Morales - both are so good (not to mention SEX-ON-A-STICK!) and if you are not watching this show, you should be!

So let's pick it apart this regret thing, it kind of goes with my thoughts yesterday on ways of seeing.

As one commenter pointed out- we see things through the lens of our experiences. I believe that everything in my life has been coloured by the moment I lost my child to what a lot of us call the adoption machine. (and it is the kind of machine that chews you and spits you out, bleeding and ragged)

So the list then, yes?

What I regret-
1) I regret not being informed
2) I regret not being able to truly make a choice (informed or otherwise)
3) I regret all my lost years
4) I regret not insisting on Jack being responsible
5) I regret just letting it go and ending up in a place where I was in no position to think let alone make a coherent decision of any kind.
6) I regret all the time that I have wasted since my reunion fighting not to feel my feelings (although that part has been done for a long time now)
7) I regret all the these things and more-

What I don't regret-
1) Loving my daughter(s) and my sons
2) Loving my mother enough to be with her to the end- as hard as it was for me to watch the woman I idolized suffer, I do not regret one single minute I spent with her.
3) Loving my life, and what I am doing with it
4) Loving a man who has given me so much without ever knowing he was giving it
5) Loving all of my family despite what they may think or believe, that I do not
6) Loving and caring for people despite what I have gone through in my life
7) Writing this blog, it helps more than anyone would ever believe, it is after all my story, my life, and more importantly my feelings
8) Teaching my raised children that love is never wrong, that sometimes being weak, is really being strong.
9) Teaching my children that the words I love you-must mean something if you say them
10) Helping people, even if it has sometimes bitten me in the end. I learned from it-
11) Wanting to help people in spite of my own experiences in life- I believe it says more about a person who has gone through hell, and still wants to help, than doing nothing and wallowing in self pity.
12) I also love the fact that I have come to a place where so many different minds meet and intersect, and while we may not all agree, we can at least agree to disagree-

Funny how that second list is longer isn't it? I choose not to live my life with regret. But to be a woman who is Strong and Beautiful, without regret. (Thank you for that thought Ms Suz)

How do you all choose to live your lives? Do you choose to really see? Do you choose to live without regret? DO you choose to be as strong and beautiful as you can be?

I do choose, and in the end I regret only that adoption hurt me, and my child(ren) funny isn't it, that my entire regret list comes back to that one thing.

As I said, it comes with the way we see things- I feel as if now finally and truly, I am seeing in all the ways that I can~

Ways Of Seeing~

How many ways of seeing do you think there are? Yes, we look with our eyes, but do we always look with more than that? Do we put what we are seeing in context? To time? To place? To self? To others?

Do we also see with our hearts? Our senses? Can you feel what you see? Can you hold it in ways that have nothing to do with seeing?

Do we see with our hands? Can you see with your mind?

I think the answer to all those things is yes, we see in all those ways....


But, I think the thing of more import is what we do not see- or at least what some in this thing called adoption fail to see, or refuse to see.

So if I were to ask all of you who read here, what do you think some fail to see in this mess called infant adoption, what would you answer? Tell me what you all think, and let's see what comes of that, what one thing will prompt me to write a NEW THING- Something that will make every godsdamned fool sit up and take notice~

That is my challenge to all of you-give me a prompt worth writing about-

For now I am going to sit here and dream awake- and think of what might have been...

Memory~

"Memory... is an internal rumor" - George Santayana

So think about that quote- kind of strange to think of memory that way is it not?

I believe our memories are both subjective and objective. (in time at least) But memory is not static, it's a living thing. It breathes, it cries out to be heard, it breaks our hearts, and uplifts us as well.

Since my reunion, I have regained (recovered?) memories that at times I wish would have remained buried in my subconscious. They are painful, dreadful, horrific, and yet some of them, are lovely, sweet and I play those out in my mind over and over.

I remember counting toes, and fingers, and looking at this child in her alltogether to memorize every thing about her. Stroking her hair, holding her on my lap facing me and just staring, and talking to her for hours. I remember sleeping with her in my arms... I remember the way she smelled, soft and sweet and beautiful. I don't remember her crying at all- I remember the way her little eyes gazed into mine, as if she too knew that she needed to memorize my face. Such a serious little face she had. I remember the way her hair laid against her scalp, so dark and unlike my own-

Those are the memories that I think of the most often, not the hard ones, not the ones that make me weep even now 26 years later. Those that come to me in the night as I sleep, and start awake with my heart in my throat and tears on my cheeks. Those memories haunt my dreams- and yet... I need them, they are part and parcel of who I am now. They helped create the me that is writing this- the me, who is determined to try and change things-the me who wants to help children who have been traumatized by adoption, the un-wanted, given back, broken children- the ones no wants (or so they believe) The me who wants to help mothers like myself- the broken, traumatized, unwanted mothers-that no wants to think about, that most have no interst in helping-

So memory is both the bane of my existence and the spur that keeps me moving down my path. I will have what I want, I will have it-even if it takes the rest of my life to get it~

Saturday again-

And here I sit contemplating yet again the road my life has taken. How did I get where I am, when I wanted to be some where completely different?

Choices that are not choices, choices that are choices- and everything in between on the road to where I am...

I often wonder what sort of person I would have been if adoption had not entered my life. Would I still think it was a wonderful thing? Or would I like many realize that there is something wrong with the system? That it is a broken thing, in need of demolishing, of tearing down and not rebuilding it in any way that would resemble what it is now?

I know who I am, and I love who I am, for all the suffering and pain I have gone through has made me a whole person. Not fractured as I once was-when I was living in the land of Denial- that person hid most of herself. Hid the shame and guilt and pain. I don't do that now, I speak right up and tell people exactly what I think of adoption, and about what it did to me, and to my life.

How it almost broke me, almost killed me, almost....

But, but...

Here I stand, not bent, or bowed, but tall and proud of who I am, and what I have accomplished.

I refuse to bow, or to scrape, for crumbs from the table of another woman who calls herself mother. One who can't, or won't acknowledge me. I am not a threat to her, or her motherhood. I am not, but she does not see that- I wish she could~

Something Different today~

Food for thought- a poem- view this poem through the lens of feminism- and think of "The Book of Myths" as The Book of Man, from which women are largely absent. Ask yourself how this applies to adoption- and our place in it- thought provoking indeed~

Diving Into the Wreck

First having read the book of myths,
and loaded the camera,
and checked the edge of the knife blade,
I put on
the body-armor of black rubber
the absurd flippers

the grave and awkward mask.
I am having to do this
not like Cousteau with his
assiduous team
aboard the sun-flooded schooner
but here alone.
There is a ladder
The ladder is always there
hanging innocently
close to the side of the schooner.
We know what it is for,
we who have used it.
Otherwise
it’s a piece of maritime floss
some sundry equipment.

I go down
Rung after rung and still
the oxygen immerses me
the blue light
the clear atoms
of our human air.
I go down.
My flippers crippling me,
I crawl like an insect down the ladder
and there is no one
to tell me when the ocean
will begin.

First the air is blue then
it is bluer and then green and then
black I am blacking out and yet
my mask is powerful
it pumps my blood with power
the sea is another story
the sea is not a question of power
I have to learn alone
to turn my body without force
in the deep element.

And now: it is easy to forget
what I came for
among so many who have always
lived there
swaying in their crenellated fans
between the reefs
and besides
you breathe differently down here.

I came to explore the wreck.
The words are purposes.
The words are maps.
I came to see the damage that was done
and the treasures that prevail.
I stroke the beam of my lamp
slowly along the flank
of something more permanent
than fish or week

the thing I came for:
the wreck and not the story of the wreck
the thing itself and not the myth
the drowned face always staring
toward the sun
the evidence of damage
worn by salt and sway in this threadbare beauty
the ribs of disaster
curving their assertion
among the tentative hunters.

This is the place,
and I am here, the mermaid whose dark hair
streams black, the merman in his armored body

We circle silently
about the wreck
we dive into the hold.
I am she: I am he
whose drowned face sleeps with open eyes
whose breasts still bear the stress
whose silver, copper, vermeil cargo lies
Obscurely inside barrels
Half-wedged and left to rot
we are the half-destroyed instruments
that once held course
the water-eaten log
the fouled compass

We are, I am, you are
by cowardice or courage
the ones who find our way
back to the scene
carrying the knife, a camera
a book of myths
in which
our names do not appear.

Adrienne Rich

Did you ever have one of those days?

The kind where you wish you had stood in bed? Lately that's all I seem to have. No ambition, no motivation- just the blahs. Is it the winter that has seemingly been dragging on and on this year?

Is it the fact that my little sister is most likely not sober? (again) Or is it just the winter icky, that will go away once the sun starts to shine more often?

I don't know, I really honestly don't. The last year was so incredibly hard for me- it has taken it's toll on me mentally, and physically.

School is wonderful, my kids are wonderful, so why I can't I shake this feeling?

I think it has to do with the pending nuptials of my oldest child. Worry about how that's going to work. (Even though it's over a year away at this point) I will be seeing people I have never met, and seeing people I wished never to see again (well in some way at any rate) It's a puzzlement I must work out.

That and what color dress I am going to wear- as I pointed out to both my daughters I have plenty of time to figure it out don't I?

I just want the blah to go away, and the sad-

Putting her down- another part of my story~

So that day came- when I had to leave my daughter at the hospital. I had spent three days with her, being mom. Holding her, feeding her, changing diapers, and looking at every single part of her, memorizing her. Her smell, her face, her fingers and toes, the little chubby legs and arms of her tiny body. I spent a lot of time crying too. Thinking of how much I didn't want to leave her there alone among strangers.

But, but,- the woman from EH came to me when I told them I had changed my mind and told me these things, they would sue my parents, they would put her in foster care until all the bills were paid, then because she was in foster care they would prove me unfit (because of course I had abandoned her) and I would never get her back anyway. So I gave up, I surrrendered, I signed their damn piece of paper, and un-mothered myself. That day my mom and pop's both asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this,. I was terrified of telling them no, not knowing then that no one could have stopped us leaving with my daughter. I could have mothered my child. I have three raised children, and I think I am a good mother. They all are good students, good kids-

The Nursing Supervisor back then Jeanette Kenobe seemed to understand my pain, she was very good to me, and was very supportive. She gave me the best advice on that day, she told me to whisper in my daughters ear everything I wanted her to know, she also told me not to let anyone take her back to the nusery, that I should do that myself. So that's what I did.

My entire family was there that day, Mom, Pop's, Julie girl, George, andGrandma and Grandpa W, My Aunt Katie and Uncle Ted. We spent hours together as a family relishing this new life in our family, making her ours forever. She was ours, she always was despite me having to put her down after those few short hours . Everyone held her, loved her, kissed her. My Uncle nummed her ears, this is the act of putting your mouth next to a baby's ears and going numnumnum- it was adorable. I wish I had, had a picture of that. Sadly there are only a very few pictures of that day, which my daughter has copies of.

Then it was time, as I wheeled her back to the nursery, the tears flowing and landing on her small cheek as I whispered into her small shell shaped ear, I thought I was going to die. My heart breaking into a million pieces, I told her how much I had loved her father, and how he broke my heart when he left, I told her how I didn't want to do this thing, how much I loved her, how much I hoped her new mom and dad would love her as much as we all did, but mostly that I hoped they would loved her so much that the thought of losing her would make their hearts hurt as much as mine hurt at losing her in fact.

As I walked away, I don't remember how I did it without falling down and dying, how I managed to get back to my room and family. They all looked at me their faces full of so much love, Aunt Katie said "Kiddo lets go eat and talk" I numbly nodded yes, and we left. We went to some nameless diner and I remember eating a grilled cheese and tomato soup and drinking a coke. Then I went to my grams and gramps house. It had been decided I needed time away from home to recover myself. Which indeed I did. That recovery has taken 25 years. The immediate pain took over a year.

My daughter once asked me how could you "put me down" the only answer I have is this; It was fear, those people used the worst form of coercion on me. Scared me so much, terrorized me when I was at my weakest. My body was full of raging hormones being post partum, and not myself how could I have done anything else but what I did? I gave in, I surrendered. I did not "make an adoption plan" or make "an informed choice" I was bullied, terrorized and scared into signing over my rights.

By writing this, I am trying to make clear to others that this happens still in this country, every single day, to young pregnant women, who are preyed upon by prospective adoptive parents, agencies, attornies who work for the pap's and agencies. The lawyers who work for those pap's and agenceis purportedly also work form the mothers, but in the end they do not. It is not in their best interests to actually represent the truth of adoption to these young women. If they actually did that, the babies available for adoption would go away. Another point I want to address is open adoption, this is lie, it is only legally enforacble in two states. I have a friend who adopted and is an open adoption, his agency told him once everything was done that he did not have to honor any of the promises he and his wife made. He was horrified, and he and his wife do honor their promises. He also learned not to use the word birthmother. I am proud to call him friend, and am proud to say he says I am FINE- because I challenge him on his beliefs constantly and make him think, and on occasion have made him change those beliefs. This makes me very happy and gives me much hope for the future.

My Story-it's not glorious, or wonderful but it is my story~

It is hard to begin, that is what I think everytime I start to write all of this down. But here I am, and this time I mean to tell it all and be done with it~

I met my daughters father when I was 16, he was very tall, dark good looks, and I found him slightly dangerous. (I liked bad boys even then) When I fell for him, I fell hard, the way most young women fall in love for the first time. He was the center of my life for a very long time. Like all young women I was naive', even foolish thinking that we would always be together. Much later I found out he was playing me, had other girlfriends, it was heartbreaking. When you are that young it seems like the end of the world when a relationship ends.

As it happened it was not really the end, we got back together when I was 20 and in college for the first time. I don't know why I thought it would be any different, that the things that had happened were in the past, but I did. Nothing was the same between us, except for the passion. I found out I was pregnant in March of 1983- I think I even remember the night I got pregnant. The moon was full, and it shone in the window that night. I was terrified, I didn't know what to do, or if I should tell him. In the end, I called him and begged him to come to me. We sat in a small park behind my subdivision, and I remember crying as I told him. He was as scared as I was, at least I think he was. He said that we would get married, but first he wanted a blood test. I agreed to that, and went home thinking everything was going to be ok. It wasn't, not by any stretch of the imagination. I never heard from him again. No phone call, no showing up to help me tell my parents, nothing except a deafening silence. My heart was shattered, and no one knew it. I have always been very good at putting on that "Happy face" I saved my money and saw a doctor on my own. An abortion at that time was not an option, not for me. So I hid my body, and my belly from everyone. I remember a woman at work asking me if I was pregnant, and lying to her about it. I wish I hadn't, I really wish I hadn't. I often think maybe she could have helped me, and what happened to me in the end, would not have happened.

I went about my life, hugging my secret to myself, using a rubber band to hold my pants up, wearing clothing that hid everything. Finally in December I went Christmas shopping with my mother, (I was 8 and half months along by then) and she wanted me to try on this gorgeous red jacket. I wouldn't, and she kept after me and after me, until finally when we were in the food court, I told her. She burst into tears, and asked me what I wanted to do. The word adoption crossed my lips for the very first time- and now in retrospect, I realize that my mother never really wanted me to do that, but only followed up on what I had said. She said to me she wasn't wild about giving up her first grandchild that night. Then we went and bought some maternity clothes. I did not have any, I was seeing a dr, and taking care of myself, but I didn't spend money on clothes. That would have given me away you see~

It was then that I heard of Easter House for the first time- an agency run by the infamous Seymour Kurtz (now out of business thank the gods!) My case worker was MG. and my age. I saw their doctor one time, and the next time I saw MG was at the hopsital when I gave birth to my daughter Jean Louise. It wasn't very long, January 4th 1984. My whole world changed that day. My case worker came to the hospital and in the end I kicked her out of my room, I didn't want her smug face around me, I wanted my mother. And so that is what I had. Mom was in the room with me when Jean was born, and I truly believe the treatment I got at the hospital was much better than what most women in my place got. The nurses were very good to me, and did not withhold my daughter from me, at least not once I made it clear that I was having none of that. My mom was a nurse too you see and called the nurses station and made it clear what we would tolerate as a family and what we would not.

I had changed my mind, I wanted to keep my daughter, take her home and love her, and raise her, but the woman from Easter House used the following things to ensure I signed their damn surrender paper. (I don't even have a copy of it) She told me if I changed my mind that Easter House would sue my parents, put my child in foster care until all the bills were paid, at which point they would take me to court and prove me an unfit mother (as if being single is all it took to make me unfit!) and I would never get her back. I was only 21, very young and scared, I wasn't just scared, I was terrified. What would my parents do if they were sued? So like many women before be, I surrendered, I signed that piece of paper, and I have regretted it to this very day. I left my daughter at the hospital in the care of complete strangers, who had no connection to her, no reason to love her, and while I know she was safe, and cared for. It breaks my heart to imagine her cries when I didn't go to her when she needed me. It tears me apart inside still..

I lived a lie for 21 years, tried to pretend I had never had a child, or that she had died. But how do you mourn a child who is not dead? I knew she was out there somewhere, and I cried everyday for more than a year. I still cry, even though she found me almost five years ago. My life was turned upside down with one phone call. I don't think I have ever cried like that before. All I could do when I knew she had found me was wail "Is it my daughter?" My friend Suz can attest to that, she was on the receiving end of that cry.

When my daughter was 15, I had just gotten my first computer, dial up- deadly slow, but at that time? State of the art! I found a search engine and looked for adoption. What I found was the website adoption.com (Evil website! EVIL!) they had a registry. I have gotten five pictures of my daughter once she was gone, I found her name on one of them. (There was an ink spot on this picture, I freaked out and rubbed it off, only to realize that it was there to hide her name.) Between the name on the picture and the information I had, I filled out the form not realizing I had transposed two letters in her name. I had set my profile to get emails from the website, but had not gotten anything except spam, so when I did get a real email from daughter I deleted it. Her friend Suz, then took over, sent me two emails- one letting me know there was a support site available for EH moms, and the next one telling me she thought she knew where my daughter was. I knew in less than 48 hours that she did indeed know where my daughter was. I will forever be thankful to her, she is an angel sent to earth, I truly believe this. Without her, and her support I don't know where I would be now. When she found me, I was a wreck, a complete wreck. Suz helped me through it, as did our little on-line family. I love each and every one of them. (Ya'all know who you are! So pat yourselves on the back mkay?) That was five years ago this coming April. Life has been interesting ever since then. Always new, somedays hard, but always I keep in my mind that I was close to being emotionally dead back then. I have come a very long way since then. With the help of a good therapist, good friends and a wonderful support network.(That story is another note entirely, and someday I may write it)


Now? I have come out of my closet, I refuse to pretend that I am not her mother, I always have been, and always will be. No piece of paper will ever change that. Amended birth certificates are nothing but a legalized lie. Our reunion has been full of twists and turns and ups and downs. I can not have back the years I lost with her, nothing can replace those. What I can have is a relationship with her, based on love, and I hope mutual respect. I adore my daughter, and I am so proud of the woman she is. No our relationship is not perfect, but we work on it, we work hard as a matter of fact. And someday I hope to be able to say-Yes I am healed~ Not that I will ever be entirely healed, but I know I can come close~

Feel free to ask me questions, I will answer them for you~

Part two to follow~

Thinking about Loss and Grief~

So on Monday evening I went to dinner with my cousin Mike and his wife Annie.
Now you have to understand that when I was a kid I idolized my cousin, he and his brothers did really cool things for us (my siblings and I) when we were little. He came to visit us one Christmas along with his brothers and they made us this really cool playhouse out of a box. Bright yellow and with a door and widow in it. Big ole dasies painted on it, and we watched some of the Apollo missions together too.

Dinner was all about catching up and reaching out to some of the only family I have left on my mom's side of the equation. We went to Carraba's and the food as always was divine- the company was grand and we sort of celebrated my oldest boys 21st birthday. Gods how time flies!

Anyway, talk of course turned to my mother. It seems like yesterday she was teaching me how to cook, and all sorts of other things, and then it hit me like a whirlwind. Grief right there smack in the middle of dinner and I am crying, softly, tears rolling down my cheeks. Mike reached our and rubbed my arm to comfort me. Then I realize it wasn't just the grief over losing my mom, it was also the grief over losing my daughter that had me crying.

January has always been a hard month for me, but this year on my daughters birthday, it was also the 6 month anniversary of my mother's death. I couldn't put my finger on it that day- but later when I thought about it I knew why I was so sad. Knowing where J is, having a relationship with her has made it bearable. This year? Not so much- losing my own mother made realize just how truly horrible it has to have been for her. All those years she didn't know who I was, where I was. If I loved her or not, if I wanted her or not. If I really wanted to put her down- (or later when she started learning, if like so many others I was forced/coerced into signing that piece of paper.)

So where does this mess of emotion leave me right now? I know I need to get out of the funk I have been in. Losing my mom was so very hard for me. My daughter and I had some problems when I was taking care of her, because she didn't understand all the why's of me being the one to do that job. She didn't get that just up and moving my mom back to Wisconsin was like trying to move a mountain, or that changing her health insurance took much more time than I had expected it to. We didn't talk for months really. Not really until the day my mom died. It was then it hit me, now I know what she feels/felt like over losing me.

It's that thought that has been keeping me awake at night. I imagine her as an infant crying for me and me nowhere to be found. Inconsolable as I have been over losing my mom. I know it just takes time, and that eventually I will heal. But is my daughter ever going to heal?

It keeps me awake at night~

God's People!

Learn how to spell please? I know sometimes you get in a rush and make mistakes, but seriously? Some of the comments I have gotten on one post are just so bad it makes me wonder if they got left behind in school! Use spell check, it's there for a reason!

Plus these comments keep using that damn bword- I am not going to publish anything with that word in it, unless it's the name of the poster! Read the rules will ya please?

Now then, where was I? Oh right, adooption and how it almost killed me- and no, that is not me being dramatic. I joined the army almost 9 months to the day my daughter was born. It was a way of "moving on" or so I thought at the time. What it really was, was me running away from the horror of what had happened to me.

It's not that I think being in the Army was bad for me, it was in many ways very good for me. I learned a lot, traveled a lot, lived in another country for two years. So in those ways it was good for me. But, it also gave me a way to hide from the pain... Pain that just did not go away as I had been told it would.

I think I need to explore this period in my life further. To know and understand those days is I think imperative for my healing-

Excellent read~

Aislin is amazing to me- read her today, she said it all!

http://aislin13.wordpress.com/

Well then-

I asked for people to follow a few simple rules- and since some can't seem to do that, I am going to enable comment moderation. I didn't want to do that, but seriously, as much as I wish to have an open blog, I am not going to tolerate the nasty. Or what one of my favorite authors calls "The Mean Reds"

Let me repeat the rules just in case you missed them-

1) No name calling
2) No spitting or hissing venom either
3) Civility is the rule of the day (if you break this one, say adios to your comment)

Also, I am considering not allowing anon posts- so think before you speak-

I put up with quite a bit over the last few days, including allowing a comment to remain that I really wanted to delete, because I was out of line in saying what I said. I should have thought it through, and been nicer. I wasn't- so I was willing to deal with it. But and here's the thing, if the person who posted the comment had to read it, and it had been deleted, how did they have still have access to it?

Really think about that one- yeah, struck me funny too-

Let's Talk Shall We?

First off let me say this, this time I have a few simple rules-

1) No name calling
2) No spitting or hissing venom either
3) Civility is the rule of the day (if you break this one, say adios to your comment)

So I seem to have sparked a whirlwind, well you know what? Good, it's about time that we all started talking about this.

Shannan said...
"I am an idiot. I am so sorry I wrote that this situation is "your fault". It is really truly not what I meant. I actually thought about rape and being medicated later and regretted what I wrote. It was late and I speak without thinking sometimes. I am really sorry. Truly. I know that not every woman makes this decision with 100% knowledge of what she is doing. I really do know that.

What I was trying to get at, or understand, is who are you, specifically Mary, so angry at? I mean, I am sincerely trying to understand. Are you mad at me (of course you are now because I made such a hurtful comment) but I mean are you mad at adoptive moms like me? Adoptive families in general? The "system"? Or are you really just mad at the people from your past that were involved with your situation? Do you think that ALL adoptions are really bad?

I just worry because I can't go back and change the fact that I've adopted my kids...I have...whether you or anyone else likes it or not. I adopted them. I can't change that (I wouldn't want to). So all I can do now is educate myself to understand as much about it as I can to really help my kids grow up without hating me for adopting them. I mean, do you think they should hate me for adopting them? I am not being coy. I am totally sincere. Should I teach my kids that adoption sucks?

I knew when I adopted my kids there would be a lot of opposition for them growing up, but I honestly believe that we are all happier because we adopted them. But are you saying I should think and teach them that adoption is wrong? Please believe that I am being very very sincere here and not being sarcastic or confrontational at all."

First off you are not an idiot, you just said something without thinking. We all do it. I am not angry at you either. Why would I be? You spoke your mind, just as I did.

I can not say that all adoption is bad, I can't. I wish I could, but all of us know there are some women who should not be raising a child. I would prefer legal guardianship over adoption, I would prefer extended family raising a child over guardianship. I would prefer adoption be abolished all together but that isn't going to happen. Look to Australia and their laws, that is what I want in this country.

You ask me what I am so angry about? Ok, I can tell you that. No, my anger is not directed at my own situation anymore, nor is it directed at adoptive parents. I am angry at a system that in this country is so corrupt. Angry that it is allowed to go on and on, and women and children continue to be hurt. I am angry that so many refuse to listen to our voices, and even when they do listen they want to call us names and say we are wrong. The ones who do this to us would like nothing better than for us all to go away and shut the hell up. But we aren't doing that are we? Because clearly, something horrible happened to a very great many of us. When clearly those horrible things are still happening today to other mother's. When there is all this wealth in our country and it is not being used as it should be., to help mother's keep their children. I tell you again look to Australia's laws- Instead of support single mother's here are encouraged to look at adoption as an option. Why? They are stalked on the net, pregnant women not wearing rings have been stalked and handed cards at Wal Mart! Then of course there are those god awful Dear Bmom letters! It's all so crazy making.

Have you done any reading about my side of this? Have you read The Primal Wound by Nancy Verrier?(an adoptive mom btw and while I don't agree with everything she says that book made me sob for days) How about The Girls Who Went Away by Ann Fessler?

If you really want to understand what so many of us are angry about read more of our blogs. I read a lot of adoptive mom blogs, consider some of them my friends. Try reading Third Mom-she is amazing- she will also lead you to more amom blogs that are just as amazing.

Open your mind and learn. Once you start you will know what to do with your children. In the end what I want is for all of who write about the horror, the pain and anguish and loss to be listened to, and validated. Not invalidated as I was the last two days.

It's all I ask of anyone- just listen, hear our voices, I can read and control myself and listen as well. I don't want to hurt anyone, nor do I want to invalidate their feelings. It's not my thing- All this fighting and bickering accomplishes nothing. It just makes all of us look like shrieks- That's not my thing either..

I am more than happy to talk to all of you who posted- I am thankful that I got apologies. (even though I didn't think any were needed)

Jamie, I am very glad you came back- and for the record Aislin did lose a child to adoption. So she does know the pain and anguish. As I do- the first year(s) are hell on earth. I would ask you to please read Cedar's post's very carefully. She is one of my very dear friends, and has helped me a great deal in the past few years. As have a lot of the people who came here and posted in support of me. Each one a friend I made because of adoption, each helped me in my healing. I wouldn't be surprised if once you start to listen you make some new friends here.

If I'm jumping I may as well jump all the way in the deep end don't you think?

So I made a comment on this blog- because it just really yanked my crank-

http://birthmothers4adoption.blogspot.com/

Guess who decided to return the favor? On yeah my last post yesterday garned a lovely comment- and here it is-

Anonymous said...
You are a VERY bitter woman and I feel very VERY sorry for you. I hope one day you will realize how ignorant you are. These "horrible" birthmoms (who apparently, according to you, should be forced to live unstable lives) go on to lead often successful and happy lives while you are still bent on someone "taking away" a child that was never yours to begin with.


You should try a little humility, try to stop being so damned selfish and maybe get some education on adoption and statistics and maybe one day you'll realize how horribly wrong you are. Adoption is not something that you "get over" so I can't tell you to do that, but hopefully one day you can move on and stop taking other people down this miserable road with you.


Isn't it interesting that she say's my child was never mine? And isn't it interesting how she say's I should have a little humility, and to stop being so damn selfish?

I don't have an unstable life, I didn't have an unstable life during my pregnancy either. Interstingly she also uses the word miserable- as if my life is miserable.

Guess what? It isn't! I love my life, I love the fact that I have all my children (two of whom are adults now) in my life. I love each of them equally, although each is unique. There are some things about each of them that I adore, some things I don't like much. But as a mother (and I am a mother) I take the good with the not so good and love my children anyway. Never strings attached, none of that in my house. It's all unconditional, can adopters in some cases say the same? I think not!

I also find it interesting that she say's my daughter was never mine to begin with? WTF? Who got pregnant? Who gestated my daughter? Who gave birth in sweat and blood? Who changed her very first diapers, bathed her, fed her? Oh right, that would be me. Not the woman who's name is on her Amended Birth Certificate. She became her mother 9days later, after I was coerced into signing papers to terminate my rights. Did she have the leaky breasts? Did she have the stitches in her bottom? How about Post Partum Depression and PTSD? Nope she didn't have any of that-

So who the hell are you to say these things to me? Because you are so deleriously happy with the so called choice you made, does not mean we all live in that magic land of Denial. You would deny me the ability to speak my truth if you could. You would write me off as a bitter angry woman, when in fact I am not those things. Not in the way you think.


Angry at a system that allowed my child to be taken from me against my will. Bitter that it happens over and over again still! Angry that so many believe that adoption has changed so much for the better, hell yes!

Am I angry and bitter about my situation anymore? Well no, therapy is a wonderful thing. It helps one see more clearly. You talked about how so many go on to lead wonderful lives. Guess what? I would have been able to do that if I had been allowed to keep my daughter. Still would have gone to school, still would have managed with the help of my family. They would have helped! SO why don't go off into your little dream land full of Rainbows and Butterflies and leave me alone for now? I told you once we the ones who know better will be around when you come out of the fog, and we will be.


I think I may be posting a lot this year- it's one of my resolutions in fact. Two years away has given me the time and space I need to enter the fray again-

All ya'all have a wonderful! I am going to buy my books for next semester. Did I tell you I am working towards a Master's Degree these days? Yes, I am in Social Work, so I can work with kids in disrupted adoptions and with mom's who like me have come out the other side, battered and bruised, but still standing-

Well then Jumping Back In-

So a friend of mine pointed out a blog to me you can find it here - http://gracecomesbyhearing.blogspot.com/

I don't even know where to begin with this one! I simply can not understand people like this.

I spent a good deal of time reading last night and this morning, and honestly she even takes on the Bible and it's view of adoption. How about Jesus? Was he adopted? No he wasn't, he had a step father though! Moses? Well yes, he did take his adopted mother with him when he left Egypt, but who nursed him as an infant? Who watched over him for almost his whole life? Even if he didn't know the truth until adulthood? Late discovery adoptee anyone?

I just want to be sick when I read this sort of thing. My version of God does not place babies in one womans womb, only to then decide OOPS! I made a mistake, it's really this woman who should be raising this child! God (The Gods) does (do) not make mistakes. It was men and women who made the laws that allow adoption to continue as it does.

Ask me if I am anti-adoption, well yes, I am. Ask me if I want adoption as it stands abolished? Well yes, I do. Enough of the lies and coercion that have gone on for decades now.

Open adoption is a joke, another falsity for those hapless women who fall prey to agencies/lawyers/paps without scruples. Especially for those who happen to live in a state where it is not enforcable. Which mind you, is pretty much every state in the union. Last time I checked there were only two states where Open Adoption is enforcable by state law.

Most everyone on the other side of my fence wants to believe that adoption is all so very wonderful- Guess what? It isn't! It never has been, and it never will be!

Daily I am faced with reminders of what adoption has done to my life. Daily *sighs* It smacks me in the face when I least expect it.

For instance today- I made a comment about something my daughter posted and got a response I didn't expect. But if forcibly reminded me, that I am not allowed to inter-act with her in the same way I do with my other children. It made me sad, and I had to fight back the tears, and swallow it, and sent a message apologizing for making her uncomfortable. Why did I feel the need to do so? Well that answer is pretty simple, I didn't raise her, I wasn't there, and as much as I want to be involved in her life, it is not the same. It never can be-

Why? Oh wait, I know the answer to that, Adoption, yep, there it is again smacking me in the face... The "gift" that keeps right on giving, pain, anguish, flashbacks, depression, did I leave anything out? Oh wai,t heart ache and grief, let's not forget those things.

It's not bad enough I lost my mother 6 months ago on the 4th- (my daughter's birthday by the way)I get publicly chastised for commenting, and it wasn't a mean or nasty comment, it was just a way of saying, hey I understand what you mean. When does it stop? Does it ever stop? I have had enough, and more than enough this last two years.

I took care of my mother for a long time, in the end it was heartbreaking to see the woman I idolized my entire life, in a hospital bed fighting for every breath, and knowing the last thing she spoke to pop's was "I want to go see Jesus" It was hard enough to sit with my sister in mom's room and hear her ask the RN if my mom's drips were maxed out, and looking at her when the RN said no, and nodding my head. Knowing that turning them up would end my mother's pain and her life. She fought hard my mama, and her heart was so strong.. She was brilliant, had her Master's Degree in Nursing and worked hard her whole life to make sure we had what we needed. She never got to enjoy being retired, she never got spend the time with pop's that she earned. And we didn't get to have one last Christmas with her.

So yes, it is painful for me to read the "Happy Happy Joy Joy" adoption crap that abounds on the net, when I know just unhappy it is for so many of us. How it has affected or whole lives and the lives of our families. For you see, adoption doesn't just make a new family. It destroys another, my mother who should have been able to enjoy a relationship with all of my children died without knowing my oldest child very well at all. My father? He didn't even get to meet her, he died almost a year to the day she found me. Pops?(my stepdad) He was just angry about all of it, he doesn't get it, that he is what many of us call collateral damage- He just knows about all the tears I have cried, and hates that I still hurt after all this time.

Then I read blogs like the above mentioned and I want to just smash something. I mean I really want to break things. Instead I write, or I cook, or any other number of things to stop myself from getting that angry again.

I know many good adoptive parents, am lucky to call some of them friends. I wish there were more like Third Mom, of my friend Charles- I wish more people could understand that there are two sides to this thing called adoption. That while it is wonderful for some (Especially those who make the $$$$) it is not so wonderful for many of us.

I counted the things I keep getting above, let me also add the loss. The loss of all the time I should have had, the time her father should have had with her. The time her siblings should have had, her Grandparents, her aunt's and uncles and cousins- her entire extended family. The loss of a life in which I could be involved, and not feel guilty for wanting that involvement. I hate that I feel I have to apologize because I feel as if I am intruding- that I am somewhere I am not wanted, or at least somewhere I should be seen, but not heard.

Can I just be done with it all now? Please? I don't want to feel these things anymore. I have already lost too much to waste time picking the scabs off my wounds. I don't want to waste time trying to explain over and over all the things I think are wrong with adoption, why the b-words make me sick to my stomach. I am tired of so much and yet, here I am again. Blogging again, bleeding the pain away again- I am pretty sure all of this has happened before, and I am also equally sure, all of this will happen again~

Now if only some will read with open minds and open hearts- then maybe, just maybe, I won't have to let my bleeding spill over into my writing~