DNA Diaries

A Perfect Example

2011-01-31T06:16:00.000-08:00

Recently I took advantage of an opportunity. It was to use my daughters face book post to get to someone else. Not something I am particularly proud of, but took the advantage of throwing something out there and seeing what happened. I had thought for months how to approach this situation and suddenly there it was. A golden opportunity. There could be huge backlash from it. It could cost me my relationship with my daughter. But I felt so strongly about it that I was willing to take the chance. I was hoping it wouldn't come to that.

Soon I will be moving closer to my daughter. Within an hours drive. This is fantastic news for my daughter and I, but it poses a problem with another family member. Someone I can't take the chance of having around. Someone who, to me, hasn't learned yet to control herself. This someone is my daughters daughter. My grand daughter by blood. I have many reasons and many examples from her past behavior that leave me feeling vulnerable if I allow her into my new home with my new room mate who owns the house I and my son are moving into.

I took my shot, I sat back and waited, and what I feared most started to unfold. I was being attacked. I was called everything from an old whore to someone who couldn't keep the coke straw out of my nose long enough to keep my daughter. Her boyfriend joined in stating that i was acting worse than a 16 year old school girl, that I should be ashamed of who I am, and that my daughters REAL mother is far superior to my low life self.

I know the REAL mother comment was supposed to hurt me, but in all honesty, i was just waiting for it. I knew it would come. I have heard it so many times I am numb to its effects any more and to be honest, I now see it as a last resort. I must have been getting to them with our bantering back and forth for one of them to use the REAL mom card. There is no doubt in my mind that they were running out of things to throw at me. This is a perfect example of what someone will stoop to. To throw a dig that is older than the person themselves, proves that as much as things have changed, some things stay the same.

The question that remains is who DID it hurt? The answer would be, my daughter. The whole thing hurt her, but she understood once we talked it out. I gave her the opened option to walk away and never have contact again. She declined. She has seen her daughter do the same thing to others, and understands why I didn't want to give the benefit of the doubt and wait for something irreversible to happen in my situation. At least I hope what she said is true.

I posted a single comment, "You aren't as honest as you think" and it prompted an on slot of insults and accusations. (which I was pretty sure it would) Twisting my whole life story around to suit her need. Do I deny I did coke, absolutely not, but my daughter had to be close to 15 when that stage of my life transpired. Did I attempt suicide? yes I did, but it was made to sound like it was a recent attempt to gain attention rather than something that happened in 1974 when I was severely hurting and alone. Not allowed to talk about the daughter I missed so much, the pain I felt because of it, or the remorse that haunts me still. Did I become a drunk? Yes I did. But I have been for the most part sober, for longer than my sons AND my grand daughter have been alive. These are all legal adults we are talking about, and I say for the most part because there is a theory that if you take one sip of alcohol in recovery that you have fallen and need to start over. I disagree. I am quite capable of having a few drinks, a few times a year, and not worry about starting my drinking over again. But I was told to go drowned my sorrows at the bar like I so often do.

Was I mean? Probably, but I was honest and I proved that everything I thought would happen, will happen, if I don't make a move and end that relationship. There is more at stake than just a room mate. There is the potential to sabotage my sons career if it does transpire. I am not willing to chance that. It isn't fair to him.

So to those who think that the slut mother/real mother doesn't get used in modern day, you are wrong. When there is nothing else to throw, that card will come into play. Even by those who weren't there, cant imagine, let alone remember, and have no right to use it. But a warning to those who feel its acceptable in times of desperation. You may want to consider who it is you are actually hurting by using it.

The Bitter Sweetness Of My Tears.

2010-08-13T10:47:00.000-07:00

In contemplating how I would describe my reunion story, I have come to the conclusion that my tears, which can still come at the drop of a dime, are more sweet than bitter since reunion. Which is the exact opposite of how I felt pre reunion. The emotions that come with thinking of our first meeting can still bring tears to my eyes, but they are now different.

In defense of those who have or want to reunite opposite those (usually men) who feel that its too tramatic for us "Birth mothers" to go through. ( a strange situation all on its own, men defending womens rights instead of women speaking up for themselves) I can only say that even though it was hard to relive almost every moment, every aspect of my past. It was so liberating that I literally felt as though weight had been lifted from me. Weight I had carried so long I didn't even notice it was weighing me down. Stopping me from being happy, being a functining human being.

Because I was not allowed to shed tears over my daughter, because I was not allowed to express any emotion about her surrender at all, I learned to stuff down all my feelings. I became a rock. I didn't need anyone, or allow anyone to console me. Not too many got in far enough to affect me.

I never cried into my pillow feeling the release of pressure through tears. Something I still struggle with today.How I always wished I could be one of those girls who can go have a good cry and come back better, stronger for it.

What a lonely existance I lived. Never being able to fully connect to any other human for 20 years. Then only able to give half of my potential, because part of me was still missing. The birth of my two sons 20 years later gave me a glimmer of hope that I might be able to connect on an unconditional level. A level I had never known.

My reunion and the story of my and my daughters lives, even though it brings tears, has been "the" single best thing that has happened to me thus far in life. It gave me peace, completed me, allowed me feelings and emotions. I can honestly say that if it lasted for only 5 minutes, I would still feel better for it. Because 5 minutes is all I asked for. I am truly blessed to have 11 years.

Blood Siblings having Children

2010-05-31T07:54:00.000-07:00

I want people to understand that this happens more often than one might think. I remember an article about a guy who at the request of his wife donated sperm and fathered over 200 children. Now what are the chances that NONE of those offspring will be subjected to this same insane cruelty.

I read about an adoptee who was afraid to date because of this very thing happening. About couples who are forbidden to have further contact with one another because it was discovered they were related. Treated as if they deliberately and willingly did something that was against the law.

Adoption and surrogacy aren't even part of this article and it still happens. If it can happen under these circumstances why is it so hard to believe that it would happen when children are adopted or created? Why do people think that this is so rare? Why can some not get it through their heads that people related are in fact attracted to one another? That it's a bond that they share through blood.

I know that my sons are not as close as I would like them to be. My brothers aren't either. But if they didn't know they were related and met on the street, I would bet money that they would like one another, they would share a bond that they felt was a friendship, just like so many other people do. We all have friends.

This is in no way suggesting that this is a male related thing. I have no sisters, and my daughter is much older than her brothers so I have no reference other than brothers and sons.

I have had the debate over whether its acceptable for adopted brother and sister, step brother and step sister to have relationships. Some see adopted and step siblings "as siblings" and they don't see where an attraction can form. Or they don't believe one would. It's wrong to them because they are siblings, but there is no blood relation.

What aboout those who are blood related? Who by no fault of their own, who by some higher power playing God, keeping them from being exactly what others pretend to be, siblings, are left to sift through life's bits and pieces, being accused of gross practices when their fates were cast through secrets and lies. Where is their place? Do they have siblings or not? Are they still related to their siblings even though their legal bond has been severed? How can one not be related just because the legalities no longer exist? Then all of a sudden your related again when an attraction forms? How can that pendulum swing both ways?

Please read this article carefully. Make sure you understand who each person is in relation to the other. This father tried and was denied access to his son. Who's to blame? Why should they have to live with the fear of criticism of their actions when they weren't trusted with their own past? They were victims of the system who felt "they" knew what was best.

The entitlement some feel, the superiority in authoritative thinking, really pisses me off some times. Playing God with other peoples lives as if they know the out come.

This story breaks my heart. No doubt someone will dig till they find these people and exploit them and their son. I hope this couple (these siblings) do sue. I hope they sues and win. I hope anyone else who has been traumatized in this same fashion sues and wins till they get it through their heads that what they the courts are doing is wrong. It has consequences and it devastates peoples lives.

Couple discover they are siblings: Child courts blamed after strangers fall in love, have a son - an

www.dailymail.co.uk

A Fiercest Competition

2010-05-24T07:47:00.000-07:00

It might just be me, but something occurred to me recently. That motherhood is a highly charged, stiffly competitive game. I have seen mothers (even myself at times) criticize other mothers for their choices in "how" to rear their children. I have been on the ugly end of judgement most of my mothering life.

I have a son whom I argue with almost constantly. I have taught my kids to debate. Well maybe I didn't teach it, maybe its a genetic defect, because the child I didn't raise seems to have no problem standing up for herself, and she is elegant when she does it. Vicious, but damned good at making a point not only hit home but sting. LOL Makes a mother proud.

I argue with my son to let him get his feeling emotions and point of view out. At school this behavior is strictly prohibited and to an extent I can see why. What chaos it would be if you had to sit and listen to every hormonal teenager. Not a job I would want. But stifling them only puts a band aid on the problem. Leaving the powder keg that lurks below in tact.

I have been accused of teaching my kids to be explosive, instead of being congratulated for taking the time and energy to tend to my child's needs. A good mother wouldn't handle things the way I do. A good mother wouldn't let a child call me the names I have. A good mother would punish for every behavior that isn't completely parent compliant.

Instead of looking at the big picture, the one that clearly shows that this child has inner frustration, and as a child only knows one way to get that frustration out, violence, others look at me in disgust that I teach my children to "argue". I do not teach my children to argue. I teach them to debate and to stand up for themselves verbally. Because I understand that one day, those abilities are going to come in handy. If you have never exercised your right to use them you will be trampled by life itself.

According to "some of" society, my methods are completely unacceptable and insane. Yet my kids are loved by our small town society and love their mother. I have two teen aged boys who have (knock on wood) yet to beat the crap out of one another. I can't say that about my brothers, and my mom was the typical June Cleverish type mom. I continually struggle to defend my methods of motherhood against those who are the upper crust of our little society, AND those who wish they were.

In order to be acceptable as a parent one needs to be in the cookie cutter box of parenting. They seem to think they know what would be best for every child. How is that possible? Not every child is alike. My own three children are not alike. Each has specific needs that differ from the other. Raising them all the same makes them one person with no identity of their own.

Adoption fuels this frenzy by using specific Industry language. Language that makes one feel superior to others. Language that invokes cookie cutter parenting. Language that empowers those who wish to be upper crust in the parenting circles of society. But instead of tearing down glass ceilings, and making it possible for every mother "and father" to successfully monetarily parent their children we opt for separation. We fuel this insecurity between the haves and the have nots. Those who have money yet can not have children have been schmoozed by Industry language to believe that because of their money "their haves" they will automatically be better parents than those who "have not" the funds. Not realizing that their own "have nots" shows that they are not superior but equal in the arena of life. We all lack in our own certain areas. Industry language allows them to blind themselves to this fact. In short, that we are all human and imperfect.

Motherhood is fiercely competitive. Women willingly pit themselves against others like gladiators in an arena. And to the victors go the spoils. Women with money, who buy into the cookie cutter child rearing of the industry, who are or aspire to be in the upper crust of society, mame and slaughter those who have not, and society applauds them.

It has taken me years of arguing with my son to get him to not resort to violence first, but to use words to do battle, and yes, life is a strategy game, wars are fought based on strategy, words are powerful tools. I recently listened to him in a telephone battle lol, and it almost brought tears to my eyes. He was brilliant. He was eloquent. He was in control and didn't stammer over his words once, and he won. I was so proud, that when it was over, I just had to hug him. What part of being upper crust, having money to throw at a situation, makes my parenting skills less acceptable. I taught my son to use his words instead of his fists. Grant it, his best work comes under pressure and out of anger, but that's when they are needed the most. What part of money, teaches these skills? Why is being able to throw money make one accepted as a better parent?

Funny how once they procure "their" child, they want to join the ranks of mothers who struggle, mothers who worry. They want to converse on daily mothering things, they want to be accepted as "one of them". The gladiator style battle was over winning a seat at the play ground. How sad. Personally I think they need their own play ground, but that would just mean more damage for the kids.

The Fox Are Gone

2010-05-18T11:02:00.000-07:00

I'm not even sure if I posted that the fox was in fact a female. I know this because she was using the house across the lot as her den. One of her offspring was missing for about a week and then the rest of them departed and have not returned. I miss the excitement of watching them play. I hope they are in the acreage behind me carving out their lives. I hope no one took it upon themselves to capture and relocate theses beautiful animals.

I goggled this beautiful animal and found out that they in fact rarely eat cats. I worried a bit because of the stray who was so afraid of her and the fact that one of mine went missing. The one who used to play with her. I found him on the side walk in front of the house used as her den. He had been run over. He now resides with the other cat who met his demise via Uniroyal, beneath the big old tree in the back.

The neighborhood just isn't the same. There are no cats hanging around my door any more. Summer weather I'm sure plays a part, but I can't help but think that the wild little kitten who mistakenly ran into my home, lived behind my stove for 3 months, played with foxes and annoyed the snot out of my other cat, hadn't been the life of the party in the world of back yards and opened spaces. The one stray still comes every few days to eat, but the rest of the gang hasn't been around. I'm sure our tires smell better for it, but my old man cat, the one i have had for years, misses the excitement too.

Maybe winter will bring the fox back to my door.

Michigan Bills HB4006 and HB4015

2010-04-21T19:32:00.000-07:00

I don't even care that the bills have been adjusted yet again. What bothers me is that those of us who drove to Lansing, sat patiently, and were told that if we came back for the next hearing, we would get the opportunity to speak first.

After a very long day yesterday I come home to a message on my machine from my daughter that the next session we have been waiting to hear has been scheduled for us to speak, was scheduled for this morning. the news didn't go out until after 2 pm yesterday.

It seems there is an acceptable 18 hour window of notification that allows those who don't want to hear what we had to say an opportunity to schedule in the middle of the week at the last minute so no one can make accommodations to attend.

A post on MiOBC this afternoon stated that there were closed door dealings, that no one was privy to except those involved in the closed door meetings, until they walked into the session.

I am so disgusted right now I want to wish adoption on everyone of those committee members. Let them lie awake at night wondering if their grand child is OK, being fed, sitting in a dirty diaper, being molested. I wish they could understand how hard you have to try to go to sleep, with all that running through your head, that just won't shut off.

I would have gone if I could have found anything that stated it wasn't re-scheduled this morning. but I could find nothing.

They don't want to hear from us. They aren't the least bit concerned what happens to all those millions of people throughout generations with no civil rights. It's not them, that's all that matters.

There was one committee member who was an adoptee light (adopted by his step father). I wonder if he has ever had to get a copy of his OBC? I had intended to ask him at the next session. The one that I was supposed to get to speak at. The one that was scheduled for today, in the middle of the week, with no advanced notice, so no one could attend.

I can only hope that one day he is in that position and when he is denied, he thinks of all those he heard testimony from, and al those he didn't, because we there to protect him and his right to his own paperwork.

I think I'll look him up on the web page and ask him.

Utah, and Baby Emma

2010-04-17T13:59:00.000-07:00

I am trying to get more involved in what's going on around the world in adoption. Mine and Rachael's life is less than thrilling, we are like the old married couple now. We call, chat, sigh and hang up. When there is news, or thoughts, I'll post about it, but our blog will gather much dust waiting for another break through in our reunion.

BABY EMMA

Here is a story I can get behind. Fathers rights trampled like in a stampede. Just look at the list of players. Hospital personnel, LDS, State of Utah, and a woman who now regrets the decision she made. Probably because she can see by the pain in this mans face, knowing now that he wasn't kidding, he wants to be a father to his child.

http://www.babyemmawyatt.com/

After decades of brow beating men for abandoning their children, (which don't get me wrong a lot of them needed it) changing public opinion on fathers actually being parents, demanding that men "step up" (one of my favorite lines used on my teen son in his attempt to be a father) it would seem that there is really no point because anyone who wants to sidestep a fathers right need do nothing more than make a phone call for a plane ride to UTAH.

You would think the state was run by women. Machete wielding, castrating, women who want nothing more than to hit men where it hurts. And it's all covered by, or should i say covered up by the Mormon's of Latter Day Saints. But the sad part is its not true. Men are doing this to other men. Father's who go home at night after a hard days work to their families, do this to other men who would love nothing more than to be able to see, touch and smell their children. Men (and women) who are paying for their kids college education off what they make stealing from other men.

I sent a steaming letter to the state of Utah by way of the email address provided in the web site. I hope you can find a few moments to do the same. Utah is THE child trafficking capital in the United States. Thousands of children have disappeared in Utah. Illegally procured, hidden, snuck out, and sold. The really sad part is who's in on it, adoption agencies, hospitals, lawyers, and judges.

I'm glad this story hit the media, I hope it gives a huge black eye to UTAH and its baby stealing practices. I fear there is no hope for those who went before baby Emma, but I can hope that through media attention not too many more go behind her. I can hope.

If you are interested there is a "Tell Utah to stop stealing children from their fathers" group on facebook.

Inernational Drama

2010-04-09T17:23:00.000-07:00

As many of you have read, there was a young man adopted from Russia to Tennessee that was recently 'returned' due to behavioral problems. Here's the link for any of you that have not seen the story.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/eu_russia_adopted_boy

Now 7 year old Artyom was in an orphanage in Russia, he was brought to a foreign land, with alien values, language and people surrounding him. The little that he did have in Russia may not have been much, but at least it was familar. I'm unclear of why he was in the orphanage, did his parents die? Was he relinquished? Removed? I don't know, but what I do know is this boy has gone through hell and back. Psychological problems? HELL YES! Imagine what issues he is going to have after this little event.
Let's break this down. TRY to put yourself in a 7 year old mind and think about what he has seen. Maybe he had a family, one that he remembers. And one day they are gone, for whatever reason-GONE. You are then taken to a place filled with other children. You probably hear stories of never finding a home, living there forever, who knows what he heard. But he claims he was beaten with a broomstick. Just a bit more salt in that wound please and thank you.
Now you are 'choosen' to be place in a home, you are going to have parents! Ones that don't speak your language, serve food you are unaccustomed to, have do things you don't understand. And you can't even ask what the hell is going on. Because they don't understand you.

Have you ever had a day that you just felt alone? Even if you are with a huge group of people, you just feel you are alone? Compound that by 10,000 and shove it onto a 7 year old. There is not enough tears in the world to express this solitude

Artyom claims his 'mother' was "bad" and that she "pulled his hair" AND, (your gonna love this one)"didn't love him". Yeah, that'll be an easy recovery from. Like he wasn't already feeling estranged, but now there is another family that doesn't love him. This won't be grounds for emotional stife later in life.
I am not a perfect parent. I yell too much, I don't spend enough time playing, I am way too busy for my own good. But I can tell you one thing, my kids know I love them. There is never a question of that.
I simply can not imagine putting my 7 year old on a plane alone for 2 hours to get to Florida, let alone to send him off accross the world. I don't even know how long of a flight that is, but it's not a quicky. Can you imagine the confusion this kid had? Did he have a clue what was going on? He was ditched again, I don't care what anyone says, THATS what he was thinking. Yet another instance of someone not wanting him. Pushing him off to something unknown.

Ok, this kid is not faultless. He was violent and threatening. He drew pictures of burning down the house with the famiy inside. He was a major jerk. But he's 7 and has no sense of what a family is, how to interact in one or even a remote sense of stability. I think I'd go postal on someone too. NO, I'm positive I would. But guess what? These are classic signs, not unheard of. When my husband and I got together I his son was a problem-still is. His mother gave up custody of all 3 of them. Willingly. It's different I know, but he was still left behind. And it affected him. I have stuck by him for 12 years. He's still a major pain in the butt, he's mouthy, known to be violent time to time, has threatened my life, exhibited severe social issues. Not an easy child by any means. But guess what? HE'S MY SON. Period, there may be lot's of times I don't like him, but I'll never leave him. I knew what I was getting into.

I'm going to try to wrap this up, I can feel myself beginning to quiver from all this. It's making me sick.

In the end, just because you take in a child, give him a home, feed him and buy him some new tennis shoes-does not mean he is your lap dog pouring out undying appreciation and gratefulness. He is not obligated to be anything more than what he is, a kid. He didn't ask to be there, he doesn't understand whats happening. What he does understand is that every adult he has had in his life has left him. ALONE. What do we do to the worst of the worst of our prisoners? We put them in soliatary. Alone so they are deprived of contact. This is the same thing, on an emotional level. And I have a hard time believing this child will ever truly be 'normal'. HOW COULD HE? What normalcy does he have to base off? NONE. They love you-they leave. These ones over here love you-they leave. Hmmmmm.....think its possible that society as a general whole has utterly damaged this child beyond repair? Sure they may make him look good and normal, but inside, what state is he going to be in?

I'm climbing off my soapbox now. In closing I'd like to clearly state my very own personal opinion, and I'm not caring if this makes me popular or not.
I hope they fry that family. Torry Hanson, 33 of Tennessee, I hope with every ounce of my being that you see prison time until you are old and grey. I hope your mother is right along side of you. I hope your uterus rots from lack of life and when you get to hell, I hope, no PRAY, that you are given the same treatment you gave to the 'child' you were supposed to love. And to Artyom, dear boy, I pray that you are able to see that the sins of the adults you have been so unfortunate to encounter, are not yours. I can only hope that you can see that. One day.

Fox at My Door update

2010-04-06T10:36:00.000-07:00

I have seen the fox a few times since posting about him/her in February. I even watched the stray cat who has a whole in the side of his face run into my back room when spotting the fox out side. Poor thing was trying to get between my dryer and the wall. There is no doubt this stray cat has had dealings with this fox and the whole in the side of his face very well might have come from the fox.

My son came in this morning after starting his car, quietly saying, "come here, come here". I went to the window and there she was, but she looked a little smaller than what I remembered. maybe it was because she was across the empty lot between the houses. I didn't have my glasses on so visibility for me was sketchy. But I saw them moving around, her three pups. That's right the fox at my door, who has been eating her share of the cat food for the strays has three small babies. They're just big enough to come out of their den which is under the vacant house tewo doors down and roll around playing. She left for just a few minutes and came back with a good sized rabbit for them to eat. Fresh meat on a warm Spring morning, then off to sleep for the day. I will be watching as sunset comes with my binoculars.

Now i feel compelled to put out even more cat food and left overs. My husband is going to shoot me. LOL. I'm always feeding someone.

Milk Duds

2010-04-05T19:23:00.000-07:00

About 30 years ago I opened a box of Milk Duds and found a tee shirt offer inside the box. I thought it was the most pecular thing. I wanted one. Can you imagine a woman wearing a bright yellow tee shirt that said MILK DUDS in huge brown letters across her chest? well I threw the box away thinking I'd catch the next box and send off for my tee shirt then. Needless to say, I never found another Milk Duds offer inside a box of Milk Duds. Maybe someone figured it out and quit printing the offer. I can't think of any guy who would wear a shirt like that so the offer was pretty much a waste.

Fast forward to one of my and Rach's conversations getting to know one another. I tell her this story about the Milk Duds tee shirt offer and she finds it as funny as I do. No real surprise there, and its so not my point.

This past Christmas, Rach ended up having a Milk Duds tee shirt made, too perfect. I'm a lot older and the shirt wouldn't be a lie at all. But she gave it to her sister instead. Which was hysterical, because her sister had a double masectomy, those puppies really are Milk Duds.

I jokingly asked if she would wear it when she came for dinner.

So as not to disappoint, Rach's sister came through the door wearing the bright yellow tee shirt with the BIG BOLD BROWN LETTERS..... MILK DUDS across her chest. What a trooper she is. What a fun lady. Now I'm wondering if we can't start a trend with other breast cancer survivors. You would have to have a sense of humor to get through what that poor woman went through. I'm sure there are other women out there who would wear a shirt like that proudly. I say proudly because they are alive to wear it.

Though not funny at the time, I think maybe that tee shirt was just the thing to bring about a smile when one was sorely needed, and although she probably won't wear it on a regular basis, it's great to know she could wear it proudly for even just one day. And yes we all laughed.

2010-04-04T21:29:00.000-07:00

As Lori said, our last visit was a hit. We had a great time and I look forward to the next time. It did have a different feel though. More-natural. Visiting family is always hectic, too many people, not enough hot water or toilets. You know the routine, but we never really seem to mind.
As we have more opportunity to see each other and the chances of this 'being the last time' is a thing of the past, we are truly growing into more of a family unit. We don't feel the overpowering urge to be close to each other constantly. It's not so surreal, now it's normal. Even when my sister came for dinner. It all flowed. How many people can say they can sit down to dinner with their biological family AND their adoptive one and no hostility, distrust or 'weird vibes'?? Not enough that's for sure.

Latest Visit

2010-04-02T08:22:00.000-07:00

Although I ended up sick, my 6 month old grand son ended up with a stuffy runny nose, my one son only got to stay the weekend, and my daughter was so busy we barely had time for anything except running to the store, it was more like actual family than what we have experienced in the past.

Families do run to the store 20 times when getting together, there are always other things that need to be tended to, like work, parent teacher conferences, and play dates.

after 10 years our get togethers are finally starting to feel more like family. As opposed to a grand occasion that requires sitting next to one another so closely that we touch, checking each other out for similarities, not wanting to fall alseep because.... well just because.

It's a great feeling and I had a great time. Grand son was a hit, snot and all, and there was a lot of snot. My son got his first real taste of what being a full time parent was, sleepless nights, fussy baby, regular feedings, yeah it was great and he was great at it. He depended on him momma and sister a bit, but all in all he was a trooper.

His brother was a stitch on the way home. Baby was cranky, needed to be fed on the road, and had sneezed releasing those oh so not cute bubbles from his nose. Brother has realllllllly long hair, wind was blowing, and he was holding his nephew almost arms length away so as not to choke the kid when the wind swept his hair into baby's mouth, or so he says. You could see the cringe in his face when the thought of getting snot on his shirt and in his hair was mentioned. Too funny, but worth every memory.

I didn't cry this time when we had to leave. I didn't even feel that sad, I am getting used to being a family with my daughter. I don't know about her, I haven't asked. I did ask if she was going to be all right as we were leaving. She said yes, she would be good. I hope she was.

Already thinking about next time.

Testimony in front of Lansing Legislators

2010-03-25T13:47:00.000-07:00

I went to Lansing yesterday to give testimony to send Bills 4006 and 4015 to the house for a vote. My daughter was supposed to go as well. We each worked on our testimony for a week. Unfortunately her husband fell ill the night before and she had to stay home.

Well I thought it was going to be hugely intimidating and it was not. There were maybe 40 seats in the back of a small room. One desk with a microphone that anyone addressing the legislators sat at while speaking and a large U shaped desk that seated all the committee members.

I did not get to give my testimony which is both a good and bad thing. Yes I drove all that way for what would seem like nothing to some, but to me it took away all the spooky feelings, and now my daughter has a chance to make the next session that they have determined they need to gather further information.

That means if I go back, which I plan to do, I will be able to read my testimony because the women who were there last week and didn't get to speak, and came back this week, were given special consideration for their returns.

So now all we need to do is get my daughter signed on to speak and we will be all set. I'm glad in spite of the time and money it will take to get there again, that they are allowing a 3rd session. It gives hope that they are genuinely taking things into consideration.

There were two speakers who gave strong excellent testimony. One was Darly from MiOBC who is a lawyer, a CI, a search angel, and an adoptee. The other was a Pastor who did marriage counseling. He spoke of what he had seen in marriages where one of the partners was an adoptee. The issues that adoptee's have with relationships. Think about it, how can you have a relationship with anyone if you don't know who you are.

The women who spoke of their own personal relationships with adoption and surrender made me cry. Mostly because I could relate. One I slapped on the arm with my rolled up testimony that didn't get read and the other I had to hug after we got out of there.

One of the committee members was an adoptee light (adopted by a step parent) so even though he has one of his parents, has a copy of his OBC, he still has sealed records. I'm not even sure he realizes that. He probably never needed to get additional copies of his paper work. I do intend to ask next time I'm there.

So another session will be announced, hopefully soon, and i will be off to Lansing again. Hopefully with my daughter meeting me there to speak as well.

Update On Vanessa's Story

2010-03-22T09:32:00.000-07:00

although I had hoped the TV station in India would have covered more, and still may, I am a little disappointed in what they left out. Particularly the marking on her body.

But something has come through on the brighter side. she received a comment on one of the segments from someone in India, or who keeps up with Indian news, that she most likely came from the southern part of India and that the TV stations of the north are not watched in the south. she was instructed to get her story out in southern India in the proper dialects and she might stand a better chance of reaching someone who knows something.

THEN SHE GOT an email from a journalist who had talked to the mother superior in charge of the convent. She has only held this position for a year and a half so she really doesn't know anything. He too suggested getting her story out in the southern parts of India and suggested the same places as the commenter. He said he would be in touch with her so there is hope that he is going to help get that done. He also let her know that every station had covered her story this morning, or when ever morning is in India, the other stations have picked it up.

One note to point out, they did get Vanessa's age wrong. someone commented on her not being able to recollect or search for her family from the age of 3, and being 30 now. As best she can guess, because she doesn't know for sure, Vanessa is 40. How sad, can you imagine, not knowing your own age or birth-date.

There is really nothing more intimate to me than that what is mine. My name, birth date, length, weight, time of birth, ancestry.

I know several International adoptee's who share Vanessa's dilemma, no name, no age, no birth date, and no history. Hopefully the days of never finding out are over.

Searching For Her Family Part 3

2010-03-21T14:06:00.000-07:00

Just beginning to scratch the surface on this bizzar twisted story. Not she makes comment about the markings. This is hopefully a key part in her story that will help reunite her with her family.

Remember to post comments so they will continue to dig into this deeper.

PART 3:
http://www.facebook.com/l/3e6f5;www.timesnow.tv/videoshow/4341102.cms

Searching For Her Family Part 2

2010-03-21T13:46:00.000-07:00

I already know this story. It is one of the sadest things I have ever heard. This is truly just the beginning. The more comments the more they will investigate. Please help get her story out there. It has taken decades to get this far.

Part 2:
http://www.timesnow.tv/Excl-I-am-searching-for-my-parents---2/videoshow/4341000.cms

Searching For Her Family Part 1

2010-03-21T10:01:00.000-07:00

This is the first in a series of links to a story of a friend of mine. Vanessa is 34 years old, has been parted from her family for more than 30 years, and all she wants is to know who her family is.

Please take a few minutes to watch each part of her story as it comes out and comment on it. Without comments they will not continue the story.

This is a perfect example of adoption gone wrong. This is what some face in the name of adoption.

Somewhere in India there is a family still grieving the loss of a disappeared daughter.

PART ONE:

The horrifying story of Vanessa Pearce-News-Exclusives-TIMESNOW.tv - Latest Breaking News, Big News.

www.timesnow.tv

And The Loser Is

2010-03-19T19:21:00.000-07:00

Adoptees. The votes came in and Adoptees Rights did not make the top ten list. But legalizing marijuana did.

So you know the drill, Go back to http://www.change.org/ sign in and find what ever is next in the way of adoptee rights and sign the petition.

I understand the need for medical marijuana, I really do. I had a friend who had his stomach completely removed, he would have starved to death if he didn't smoke a little. Instead he died of the cancer that took his stomach and intestines.

I'm just a little disheartened at some of the stuff that made the list instead. Like legalizing pot and creating jobs. Like the president didn't know that we need jobs. Like he doesn't know what's going to happen once marijuana is legalized.

How about all us unemployed people growing medical marijuana, it would be a job.

For those who don't know better, I'm not serious.

Need Votes Now

2010-03-09T09:48:00.000-08:00

Bumping this up again, we need votes and we need them now. Be creative, count your email addresses, how many do you have? Schools, co-workers, classmates, hair dresser, youth service workers, counselors, therapists, friends, family.

HELP PLEASE!! #adoption is in 13h Place and needs 355 more votes to be one of the 10 winning ideas. http://bit.ly/adopteerights PLEASE RT

http://www.change.org/

I'm wondering how many of the medical marijuana advocates are adoptee's without their OBC's. How many of them sould have taken preventative measures had they known their origin and medical history.

Wolves in Sheeps Clothing

2010-03-06T11:59:00.000-08:00

http://consideritalljoy-infertility.blogspot.com/

I don't usually follow Adoptive Parents blogs. I find them mostly entitled and sickening, but they do have a right like everyone else to post what ever they think is of importance. This one was brought to my attention by some fine folks I hang with on line and I had to make a stand. Although my comment will not appear in this woman's blog, it should in this one http://peaceofcricket.blogspot.com/2010/03/oh-yes-please-save-my-soul.html

I remember when my neighbor died. It was on my birthday. My birthday cake was sent (via me) next door as one of those long gone gestures done amongst neighbors when a passing occurred. It was okay with me, I was proud to do it, another cake could easily be made and this was a sad time indeed. This poor man had a 3 year old daughter and an 18 month old son.

But that's not my point.

I have known several men over the years who for a variety of reasons ended up being single fathers. Some were widowers, some had spouses who succumbed to drugs, others contracted diseases like
MS. None thought of surrendering their children to the comforts of strangers or relatives through adoption.

That is my point.

At what point should friends, relatives and strangers lobby for "the best interest" of a child. Should it be before one is actually laid to rest? Or should it be after a parent has tried and failed in his or her own eyes to properly provide for their family?

I think it's just plain wrong for anyone to think a man would surrender his child just because one of that child's family members is missing. I think it's unspeakable for family members who have "long wanted to adopt" to even think about their own agenda at a time when they should be consoling and supportive. Talk about wolves in sheep's clothing. Then to use scripture as their coercion tactic to persuade others into believing what they are doing is anything but self serving is heinous.

We have long chastised men for abandoning their children yet we seek to take their children before giving them a chance to parent. They are automatically stigmatized by most of society.

What if the husband had died? Would the same wolves be at the door with the same agenda? Would they allow a woman to bury her husband before attempting to coerce her into surrender? Would those children then be considered orphans who need a decent loving two parent family and home?

What about divorced couples? Are they too victims of wolves dressed in family cloth?

Where does it say that a man can not rear his own children? Why would anyone be conspiring to take the only living link he has to his deceased wife away from him before she is even in the ground? I can only think of one reason, and I don't think "serve thy self first" was ever God's plan. I don't care how well you know your bible, this is just wrong.

As far as going to hell for not jumping on this band wagon, I'll stand in line next to "my savior" because he will surely be next to me if we allow society to deem this appropriate.

I can see it now, standing at the funeral home, women (plural) walking up to this man whispering in his ear, not condolences, but rather "hey, you have my number, when you get home call me, I'm interested in your kid" Or maybe at the wake, directly following the burial, some one gathering everyone's attention and announcing to this man who "they" have decided will take over as parents for his child behind his back.

To all the men I know and have known, who cared enough to care for their own children, I applaud you. "I" sing your praises as often as I can. Parenthood is difficult, single parenting is even harder. Being a single father is obviously like fighting wolves in sheeps clothing.

Try This Link

2010-03-02T17:43:00.000-08:00

http://www.change.org/ideas

the last one was missing the word ideas. You need to sign in, then either scroll down to Human Rights to find our cause or right above the listings select "view by most popular"

sorry for the confusion, I have snagged links from several places and I wasn't paying attention to this one. Please don't let it discourage you from voting. We need to get this out there as being important.

A Call To Vote

2010-03-02T07:18:00.000-08:00

Return Adult Adoptees the right to their Original Birth Certificates

Ideas for Change in America
http://www.change.org/

The show of interests as to what is important to Americans has taken an interesting turn. The top 10 will be presented to our President. Please take a moment, whether you are directly affected by adoption or not. Protect Civil Rights for others today, you may need their vote tomorrow to protect your own.

Each voter is allowed 10 votes on subject matter that is most important to them, so feel free to exercise your votes on 9 other subjects. Just please, vote to allow equal access to those who are considered second class citizens today. Their families health welfare and safety depends on it.

This is the seocnd round and voting ends March 12th. We are very close to being in the top ten. My family who IS directly affected thanks you.

FLASHBACK

2010-02-24T12:09:00.000-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KGCxBmoAIAE&feature=grec
I'm sure to most this is a warm heart felt few moments that truly depict surrender. But here's what I see.

I see a young woman who is in so much pain she has to stop talking on more than one occasion to compose herself. I see her fidget with her clothing unaware that she is doing it in an attempt to convince herself once more that telling this story is going to help her heal.

I heard her say, "don't feel sorry for me", " I can't think about him not being here", "making an ugly thing beautiful", "making a wrong thing right". She goes on to talk about broken hearts.

But she did break her own heart, she did defy her own instinct, she did give up what was most precious to her, and she did it because some one made her feel less worthy, that her child would be better off without her. They convinced her that IF she loved her child, she would give him to someone else. I can't tell you how much this was me, so many years ago.

The message these women send along with these children is, if you love your child you will not raise them, you will surrender them to someone else.

She was enough, She said she was enough, but enough just wasn't good enough. Every child deserves more than enough.

I, me, and mine. There is no I in team, and "I" want to be part of this team, in order to do that, "I" must give of me, give up what is mine.

I can't recall the conversations we had. Hmmm, shock maybe, overwhelmed, going through the motions in a dream state while telling yourself I'm not sure, I'm not sure, I love this baby, he is mine?

I didn't share him with them, they shared him with me. Because she was constantly reminded that this child was not hers, he belongs to someone else.

I know where my son needs to be. Look at her pause, shake her head, bite her lip, to regain composure. Her life is in deed forever changed, and so is his. But I don't' see it being the win win win she is telling everyone it is.

I see her in a few years, after she has told this story a thousand times, realizing that the hurt never heals, the pain never goes away, and she was lied to.

See what you want to see, but this was me so many years ago. So proud of what I had done, how I had made someone else's dream come true. So convinced that "my" decision was the best one I could have made for everyone. That no ill will or bad repercussions were going to develop from my "gift". How much I was going to feel like a good person. Everyone was going to praise me, hold me in the highest of esteem, I was going to hold my head high, be proud of myself. Feel good for what I have sacrificed.....
All it was going to cost me was 6 lbs of flesh.

I never bit my lip or tugged on my clothes. Instead, I bit the inside of my cheek till it bled to control my tears, and sat very very still so as not to tip anyone off that I was suffering inside.

One day I woke up, the dream had slowly turned into a nightmare, a nightmare I had no choice but to live out for all eternity.

When she stops being counseled by LDS, when they have used her up and moved on to a fresh new mommy with a fresh new face and story, she will slowly start to realize what she has done. No only to herself, but to so many others she repeated this to and their children as well.

Now a days any pregnancy is a crisis pregnancy to these vultures.

I only have one question. Which of these adoptive parents would surrender a child? Make someone else's dream come true? Be so selfless?

My heart goes out to this young lady, I remember all too well.

Thanks for the flashback.

The Power of the Grandmothers of the Plaza De Mayo against the Dirty War.

2010-02-24T10:12:00.000-08:00

Some of the statements in this article are gut wrenching. Decades of doubt and loneliness, never stopped, for the first time I know who I was, at times I wondered what the hell I was living for, I had to find a way to continue, it was as if I filled a hole in my soul, to have your identity is the most beautiful thing there is.

Nope no adoption trauma here. Its all good.

The fact that they even call this adoption is appalling.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/lt_argentina_dirty_war_children

Quote

BUENOS AIRES, Argentina – The search is finally over for Abel Madariaga, whose pregnant wife was kidnapped by Argentine security forces 33 years ago.

After decades of doubt and loneliness, of searching faces in the street in hopes they might be related, Madariaga has found his son.

"I never stopped thinking I would find him," the 59-year-old father said, squeezing his son's arm during a packed news conference Tuesday.

"For the first time, I know who I was. Who I am," the young man said, still marveling at his new identity: Francisco Madariaga Quintela, a name he only learned last week.

The Grandmothers of the Plaza de Mayo rights group believes about 400 children were stolen at birth from women who were kidnapped and killed as part of the 1976-1983 dictatorship's "dirty war" against political dissidents, which killed as many as 30,000 people.

Madariaga and his wife, Silvia Quintela, were members of the Montoneros, a leftist group targeted for elimination by government death squads. He last saw his wife — a 28-year-old surgeon who treated the poor in a Buenos Aires suburb — being pushed into a Ford Falcon by army officers dressed as civilians as she walked to a train on Jan. 17, 1977.

Madariaga managed to flee into exile to avoid the same fate. Ever since, he has made finding the children of those who disappeared his life's cause.

Returning to a democratic Argentina in 1983, he became the grandmothers group's secretary and first male member. He lobbied the government to create a DNA database and dedicate judicial resources to the effort, and developed strategies for persuading young people with doubts about their identities to come forward and get DNA tests.

All the while, his own son's fate remained a mystery.

As it turned out, Quintela gave birth to the son the couple had planned to name Francisco in July 1977 while imprisoned in one of Argentina's largest and most notorious clandestine torture centers, the Campo de Mayo in suburban Buenos Aires. Surviving prisoners later reported that the newborn was taken from her the next day, and she disappeared shortly thereafter.

A military intelligence officer, Victor Alejandro Gallo, brought the baby, his umbilical cord still attached, home to his wife, Ines Susana Colombo. They named him Alejandro Ramiro Gallo and never told him he was adopted. The marriage didn't last — Gallo was a violent man, Francisco Madariaga said — and he never felt like he belonged, looking nothing like his brother and sister.

While the Gallo family fell apart, the younger Madariaga escaped in his own way, twice touring Europe as a professional juggler.

Meanwhile, Gallo was convicted of murdering a couple and their child during a robbery in 1994 and served a 10-year prison term.

Francisco Madariaga's doubts increased, until finally he confronted his adoptive mother. "She broke down and was able to tell me the truth," he recalled, adding that he can't say he blames her. "There was so much violence — physical and mental — and she suffered. She also was a victim."

On Feb. 3, encouraged by his friends, the young man and Colombo approached the grandmothers group to tell their story. Fearful of Gallo, they rushed to take a blood test the next day, and DNA results arrived last week. Father and son finally met on Friday — the same day Gallo was arrested on suspicion of illegal adoption.

Colombo also has been detained and questioned, according to an attorney for the grandmothers group, Alan Iud. Colombo and Gallo are represented by public defenders who didn't respond to calls after hours Tuesday.

Trembling before the cameras, Abel Madariaga recalled his reunion with his son.

"When he came through the door that night, we recognized each other totally, and the hug that brought us together was spectacular," he said.

Over the years, the grandmothers group has succeeded in identifying 100 children of the disappeared. Madariaga has organized many news conferences announcing such victories. This time, his chest heaved as he presented his own son to the world.

"At times I wondered what the hell I was living for. I had to find a way to continue, thinking about everyday things, hoping for this moment of happiness," the elder Madariaga said. "Hugging him that first time, it was as if I filled a hole in my soul."

Francisco Madariaga stopped smiling only at the mention of the name he was given by the Gallos.

"Never again" will I use this name, he said. "To have your identity is the most beautiful thing there is."

And yet there are still those who would deem this acceptable and a loving gesture through adoption, who would defend that these children "are" the children of those who raised them. There are those who do not believe this still happens today, in far away places, in the name of supply and demand. The dirty war might be over but the dirty practices are not.

Fox at My Door

2010-02-22T10:51:00.000-08:00

This is totally off subject but I wanted to share.

For years now the wolves have been at my door. Everyone knows what that means. It means that financially I am one step ahead of the shut off notices, the collection agencies, and two steps behind on being in good standing with anyone who could improve my credit score. I have slowly been slipping into the darkness trying to get my last remaining child through high school in the town he has lived all his life. Well almost, we moved here when he started kindergarten.

It has been a huge struggle, I recently wrote but did not post a few paragraphs about where I stand in my dilemma. So many people to consider, so many affected, so much is starting to spiral out of control and a decision is coming soon, whether I make it or my mortgage company makes it for me.

It's winter here, and I tend to feed the neighborhood cats who have no homes any more. Several are very friendly which tells me they have been left behind by those who have already had to face the tough decisions that I am facing. Last night this poor orange and white tabby who is constantly bleeding from somewhere on his head, showed up at my door again. I put out a bowl of food. A large bowl of food.

I got up this morning, went to the back door and there was a fox eating out of the bowl. He?She, was beautiful and literally inches away from me. A semi truck down shifted right in front of my house and scared him/her off, but he/she came right back. I stood there for several minutes watching this fox eat dry cat food and it gave me hope. Why? Because I'm desperate. I'm desperate for a sign that the wolves have found another door and my luck is about to change.

Put It To A Vote, Legalize Drugs or Legalize Adoptee's Rights

2010-02-17T19:30:00.000-08:00

I find myself screaming. Not screaming to the heavens, not screaming at people, but instead I feel like I'm screaming silently. I feel my body screaming, I feel it in my chest, I feel it in my throat, I feel it in the tenseness in my arms, legs and back. Every fiber of my being is screaming and yet I can't let it out. The screams won't escape my lips. It gets hard to swallow. Putting a pillow over my face, trying to let the scream out doesn't even work. It's there, but it won't come out. My mind wants me to scream, my body wants me to scream, I feel as though my body could actually relax if only I could release that scream. That silent scream that rings in my ears and torments my soul.

This was written by an adult adoptee. He has given me permission to re post it here. I feel as though these are very powerful words. This is what adoption feels like to him. Not that he had a bad adoption, that's not the point. The point is he isn't allowed to know anything about himself. Like so many others, he's adopted and his life, his history, his ancestry, is of no importance to him because someone else said so.

Then I found this.
http://www.growninmyheart.com/marijuana-makes-adoptive-parents-look-bad-yes-i-mean-you

How interesting that a president wants to hear what we think is important, and the most important issue we can come up with is legalizing marijuana?

The push to get records unsealed has been mostly by adoptees and first parents. For some reason adoptive parents don't feel the need. Why is that? Do you not love your adoptive child enough to want them to have the same civil rights as non adopted children? Did you get what you wanted and nothing else matters? I honestly do not understand. What these people, these "citizens" chose to do with this information is up to them. They can throw it in a drawer and leave it there if they choose. Point being is they deserve the right to throw it in the drawer.

Please read this well written article. Think about your life being the skip spot on the CD (another womans feeling about adoption) the silent screaming millions of people live with every day and tell me there is no better idea to put in front of your president than legalizing marijuana.

There is a link to change.org within the story. Please sign today.

Partners of Adoptee's

2010-02-11T16:33:00.000-08:00

There is a new group started for those who partner with or are married to adult adoptee's. If you know of anyone who could use a sounding board, has questions, or just wants to understand what makes them tick, good luck. No really, here is your very own place to go where asking questions or just reading to see if anyone else is in the same boat you are is allowed. I have a link listed under my favourite sites, along with Lori's my space, which I have abandoned I must add. I never did like my space and I all but refuse to go there any more.

So if you or someone you know has a partner or spouse that seems to have attachment problems, abandonment issues, or a problem with trust and many many more adoption related scenarios, this site might help you to understand, if not it might make you feel better to know that you're not alone.

So hats off to Ungrateful Little Bastard for posting about this new site started by a friend of hers, and thank you "friend of her's" for starting a group that is most definately needed.

Spreading the word

2010-02-08T13:51:00.001-08:00

Work has been a real hoot lately. There are tons of new faces, so many that I believe the newer people out number the old timers like me. During a conversation with a man we'll call T, I found out he is adopted by his step dad and has no real inclination for reunion with his biological father. Seems the circumstances surrounding his conception was not on the 'up and up'. I offered to hook him up with some of my sleuth-like friends if he changes his mind. In the average male adoptee, he smiled and changed the subject. Which is fine, I understand how rattling a conversation like that can be, ESPECIALLY with someone you barely know. And statically, men are less likely to want to search and reunite. I can't say why that is, but it's just that way.

Flash forward to last night. A new girl comes to my area. I have met her before, but only briefly. She seems nice and slightly pensive of us. I don't blame her, working with people you don't know can be rough. You never know where your boundaries are, what these guys are like or if you can just be yourself. We'll call her S. Now while standard and safe talks about children she makes a passing comment about her family and how her dad was adopted. "REEEAAAALLLLLYYYY....." I say. He is Puerto Rican and was adopted (it sounds) at birth. I giggle slightly and tell her that we have lots of adoption in our little area, T, me and now she is a product of an adoptee. Her eyes widen and she stammers out 'YOU'RE adopted????'
I'm not quite sure why she seemed so stunned, guess I wasn't wearing my "HELLO, I'm adopted, what's your name?" nametag. I smile broadly and tell her yes I am. I'm amused by her utter surprise.

As things go along and the more I talk (it's my given gift in life, man can I talk) she quickly asks the age old standard question that every adoptee gets "did you find your real parents?"
Now I won't split hairs about her terminlogy. I personally think this whole debate over titles is rhetorical. I understand the plight, I really do. But to waste so much time and effort on titles such as birth, biological, natural, first, real....sigh, I don't have the time nor the passion for such stuff. There are bigger fish to fry and I'm moving on to that. But there is ONE term I hate, hate, hate. Thats 'real'. OH HOW I HATE THAT TERM. To have someone ever even insinuate that ANY of my parents are not real makes me furious.
So I ignore that term and again smile as big as my face will let me and nod my head. YUP-I found them. I know my 'real' parents.
By this time poor S is in awe. Her mouth is slightly ajar and the look on her face was priceless. By now I'm wondering what direction this is about to go in. Am I going to be bombarded with questions about them OR....I'm I about to be verball and morally attacked for being so selfish and awful as to look for the parents that BLATENTLY didn't want me? It's a coin toss as to which way it's gonna go every time.

She opted for an onslaught of questions (whew!) that I fended quite happily with. I don't think her mouth ever fully closed during the entire conversation. She literally hung on my every word. I was pleased that she was so open and only slightly uncomfortable with the honed in focus of this more or less stranger. But in my typical form I forged ahead and offered up every scrap of info she wanted. She was amazed, she was blown away and rather happy for me. I then asked MY standard question, "are you interested in finding your family?"
I have to admit her answer threw me. She said "My family? It's not MY family-my DAD was adopted, not me"
I actually had to blink a time or two to process this statement. I guess I never realized how the offspring of an adoptee was so quick to separate themselves from the adoption itself. Not her family? Those are her aunts, uncles, cousins, etc...too. They were her blood just as much as anyone else. I gently reminded her of that and the look of confusion was undeniable. She had honestly never thought of it like that. It never crossed her mind that she was also missing part of her life. So were her kids.

This went on most of the night. Every spare second she was in front of me, first apologizing for being too nosey or making me uncomfortable. I assured her it was fine, I enjoyed telling her. It WAS nice to have someone be responsive and not take personal stabs at me and judge me like I was a criminal because I looked, found and developed a relationship with my roots.
Later in the night I brought up again finding her fathers and her family. Now this time she showed more emotion, this time she answered with a small bit of venom and hostility in her voice. I'm not ashamed to say that I was slightly taken aback. Her response was a very blunt and flat "Why should we? They never tried to find US-they don't care. They never came looking for my dad."
THERE WE GO.....there is some fire under it all! Good! I can use this, she cares, she just doesn't want to show it.

I looked her straight in the eyes and asked how she knew that. HOW did she know so confidently that they never looked? "Well, they didn't find him. They never came back."
Another remark that I could not let go. I gently as possible explained how most things work. That the agencies lie about info, throw people off by giving false info, that biological families are told they will go to jail if they do look, that they are told how the child may not know/they will ruin their lives/get over it.....I gave her countless scenerios. I told her what they told Lori. She stared at me like a train wreck. She literally could not move. Poor S, she was trying so hard to absorb all that I was throwing at her, but I could see she was reaching her limit. It was time for me to back off and let her process.
For a few hours S was rather quiet. She didn't avoid me, but she certainly didn't go out of her way to talk to me either. Which was fine. She needed to really chew on the stuff I told her. It was things that she had never thought of. Soooooo many people THINK they know adoption. They know their cousin or neighbors dauthers friend or that kid in school they never talked to. Even some that have been touched directly by it (like S) THINK they know it, they understand it, it's cut and dried. But when that different skew is put in front of them, well, it can be overwhelming.

The end of the night crept in and we slowed down just a bit. I found myself looking at S again, she had more to say. I pat her on the back, she is a trooper and was honestly wanting to know. Good for her!
S stood there for a few moments, sizing up me and her choice of words. Mind you, S is probably 5-6 inches taller than me and outweighs me by quite a bit. When she stands in front of you grappling for words, you tend to stay put and listen.
Finally she gently says "You know, my dad is dying. I don't know if he would want to do this. He's not gonna make it much longer."
It hurt me to hear her words and to see the pain in her face. I have not buried a parent yet, but now that I have found Lori and Jim, I get to do that 4 times over. Include my mother in law (whom is ranked right up there with Lori and my mom) and I am going to need some serious valium when those times come. The idea of it pains me, so I can only imagine how it feels for her to watch this happening to her dad.
The words came out of my mouth before I had the time to fully think them through. This happens alot to me. They fall out of my lips and hang there.
"Then I guess you don't have a lot of time to mess around then. If you are gonna do it you better do it quick"
There it was. That final push. Part of me regretted saying it, she had already taken in so much that night and I have to turn that screw just a bit more. It's true though. IF her dad or her was going to do this-they don't have the luxury of time. IF they wanted to push forward, it could take years. All this is true, but I think I could have gotten my point accross without going there. She took it well. She nodded and agreed. (I told you she was a trooper). Did I mention I had also thrown out stories of sick and twisted adoptions? Stolen babies and women spending lifetimes without the child they thought died only to find they were taken instead? Yeah....I kinda took it too far. But I held her attention.

So tonight is another night. I am anxious to see how she responds to me. Will she avert her eyes and ignore me? Will she pretend our conversation never happened? Will she become angry with me for dumping too much truth on her? Will she embrace what I told her and want to know more????
I've had all of those options happen to me in the past. I've drove people away because they don't want to discuss such things.

Fingers crossed that she doesn't hate me. If she does, oh well I guess. It is what it is....a messed up world that can shake lives for generations. I didn't make it was it is, I'm just stuck in it like the rest of us. But I'm doing all I can to spread the word. So others see that things have to change. I have a feeling this is NOT over. We only slightly talked about birth certificates and the such. This is gonna get interesting.....

My Kid is Cracking Me Up.

2010-02-06T14:35:00.000-08:00

My oldest son who is actually my middle child now that Rachael has come back into our lives, has gone off to college last fall. I admit he is fairly bright, competent, and slightly cockey. Okay he's a lot cockey, but he wears it well most of the time. I told him when he turned 17 that I had one year left to fill his head with useless information that will come in handy one day. He wanted no part of that and kept himself so busy that he was barely here till it was time to go off to college. I didn't say much, he was finding his own way in life and as long as it was in a forward direction it was okay with me. I knew there would be a day that he would realize that adulthood isn't as wonderful as he thought it would be and he would be back for all that useless information.

It started a few months after he moved. He asked me if adults are always feeling ency inside, this made me smile but I only answered "yes" Then he sent me a message stating that he needed ink for his printer. I am so glad he couldn't see my face and how badly I was vibrating from laughter when I replied, "so is there a store on campus". His response was "Oh.... yeah" to which I told him to go buy some, he would have it faster than if I went to get it and send it. Then he needed spiral notebooks. Again, chuckling inside I reminded him of the store. He decided that it would be cheaper for me to send some since he knew I had a box of them that I only paid 5 cents a piece for. He was going to have to pay WAY more than that for them on campus. Okay, I went to the post office with 4 spiral notebooks, pruchased an envelope big enough to fit them and paid the postage. Off they went. When he got them, I told him to look at the outside of the envelope to see how cheap it was for him not to go to the store. He was surprised. Sending packages isn't cheap.

Last week he wanted to send me some papers. He had to ask how to address the envelope. I didn't say anthing, but once again I am laughing at him from a far. How many times has he looked at envelopes and never paid attention. So I talk him through proper envelope addressing, saying nothing about postage. He mailed it, I got it with no problems. He decides to send me more stuff, I have no idea that and he puts money in the envelope. Lots of money,.... and doesn't tell me there's money in it. I left it lying in the mail box, on the table, didn't open it for days. When I did here is this money he wants me to do something with. Gently I remind him that sending cash is risky, and to at least let me know so I can tend to it properly. That's one I know I told him about but he must feel its a wives tale.

So unannounced again he sends me more stuff in the mail. He's mastered the postal system. I have no idea what it is but its not here. Its been days and he is wanting to know what happened to it. I start asking questions. How much stuff did you send? Did you put proper postage on it? How big was it? He's confused.
What difference would any of that make?

Well my son mail is weighed and postage is paid accordingly. I asked if he put the correct zip code on it since that is how mail is first separated. How long ago did you send it? You have to allow at least 5 to 7 days for delivery, not that it takes that long but it can depending on the size of the post office in the big city and how much mail they have to sort on a daily basis. Not at all like the little two spit town you grew up in.

At this point I am totally enjoying his misfortune, mostly because I know it will probably get here soon enough, and that this is his first experience with the U.S. mail botching something. I can hardly contain myself when I get an email from him that simply said "well shit". He's speechless, his friends told him unless its a package one stamp will do. He never thought about the volume of mail that his new post office has to process, that mail is weighed, or its separated by zip codes.

I'm absolutely dying over here trying not to piss him off, so I send a message saying "all that useless information I tried to give you was for a reason". I got a reply stating that I never told him about the U.S. mail.

I waited a while before responding with, "you didn't want to know" "You think this is bad, wait till you open your first checking account" "it will be endless hours of entertainment (for me) frustrtion for you" I got no reply for quite a while, I sent another message asking if he's done talking ot me for now. He responded "YES" but I love you mom.

To which I sent my last response, "love you too" "and love love love watching you grow into an adult"

I know its mean, but it is so much fun watching him grow through this part of his life. Who knew that ink, envelopes, stamps, and mailing something was so involved?

I'm really not looking forward to balancing a check book over the phone or through chat. But I'll do it, and I'll enjoy every minute of his growth.

Love you T. Hang in there.

Daddy's lil girl..um...what's your name?

2010-01-23T22:39:00.000-08:00

So you have read some of my highs and lows with my bio dad. I have to admit he is making an effort, I wish I could say I trust it, but I'm not there yet.

On one of his phone calls to me he told the story of a friend he had not seen in years. This friend knew nothing of me, like the rest of the free world, but Jim was excited to tell him. He told him about out first phone call, our first face to face meeting and a few other stories. His friend was very happy for him and in his excitment asked Jim what his daughters name was....innocent enough. Right? Not for my enigma of a father. He told me he could just stare at his friend because he only knew my first name. He realized that he had NEVER taken the time to even ask my full name. He was ashamed of himself. And to be honest, he should be. It's been 2 years and he had no idea what my last name was, let alone my middle.
I told him. Even gave him my maiden name in case he cared. I took it lightheartedly, I really did. In fact, he took it harder than I did. I knew he didn't know-but he didn't. It never crossed his mind.

This put right in his face how little time and energy he had given. I didn't need to tell him any more. No more begging for any tidbit of info he was willing to give. He thought he was being so honest and open with me, but he proved to himself what a diluted relationship we have.

I think this put a whole new perspective on our relationship. He always insisted that things between us were 'fine'. But standing there, facing a man he had known most of his life, admitting he had no idea what his daughter's name was, well, it makes you stop and think. Can you imagine what that man thought? What doubts about Jim as a person must have shown in his face?
Whatever epiphany came from that, Jim is more willing now to put me in his life. Like in my last post, I still question how this will all turn out, but at least I have hope. Which is more than I have had in the past year or so.

But at least he knows my name. Not much, but it's a start I guess.

Emotional Juggling with Jim....

2010-01-23T22:07:00.000-08:00

The holidays takes their toll on us all. Some relish in the glinting lights and cheer. They reflect upon the love in their lives and future plans. To me-it's total chaos and a big fat kick in the teeth about my shortcomings.
But there is a small glint for me too. I have so much to be thankful for and so much to reflect upon. Especially the last few years. Finding Lori and Jim have rocked my world, changed my life, opened my eyes, reduced me to tears, made me question my sanity and shown me the path to what TRUE love and family is.

So during these past holidays I sat many a night wondering where my place was. Who I was, if I truly had a place in my new/old family. Lori was never really a question, as you all can see-we get along just dandy. But I have 2 bio parents and Jim has been a very big factor in my world the last 2 years. I can honestly say that I have never questioned myself more than I have since I found him. I literally had no idea what I was to him. Yes I was his daughter, yes he loved me, yes he wanted to be part of my life. BUT...how could this happen when he was backing away from me at break neck speed?
Let me back up just a bit. Jim is not like Lori and I. He is reserved and cautious. He doesn't make any effort to rock the boat, his is an mystery to me. Our relationship has had it's ups and downs, mostly due to his family. Let's be frank here-they hate me. I don't have any explaination why except that I was born and they didn't have a say in that. So they blame me. OK-whatever.
The reason I didn't put tons of effort into finding him for so long was because I was afraid of destroying his life. Mind you, I was thinking more along the lines of a wife and other children NOT a nutcase sister and other uncaring siblings.
Our contact had come to all but a screaching halt, he pulled back further and further, never having even 10 minutes to talk to me on the phone. Actually seeing each other was not even discussed. It was impossible. He was simply to busy.

I lost many many nights sleep mulling over the personal attacks his sister, my 'aunt', had dished out to me. The sick hurtful words she wrote of my mom and dad and entire family. The things she said about how Jim supposedly really felt about me. Even how much destruction I had brought to his life. It destroyed me to think of them sitting around disrespecting my family. So one night after he had a cold conversation with Lori and she called me very angry, I had enough. I picked up the phone and had every intention of ending it right there. I lived 35 years without him just fine and I was prepared to live another 35 without him.

I caught him fresh out of a sleep and rather groggy. Unfair of me to pursue it, the man wasn't even awake, but that didn't stop me. I told him he was going to hear what his family had been saying to me, about me, about him, about Lori and about my family. I would not take no for an answer and I EXPECTED him to listen. He owed me that much. I DESERVED his attention, for once.
I pulled the venomous emails up from his sister. I read every word she wrote and every word I responded with. I stopped to stress some of the more hurtful things and tell him what I thought about it. Like the vile comments made about what pathetic people my parents must be. He listened, he gasped in shock and groaned in disgust a few times. He interjected a few times, uttering what a load of crap she was spinning and explaining the truth to me.
When I was done, I told him I was ready to walk away, that from here on out it was his move, I QUIT. He may be my father no matter what, but I am not his or his families doormat ever.

I actually pitied him in the end. He is not used to being talked to like that. I didn't care. I had reached my limit and I refused to take it one more day. No more sleep will be lost to this.
Without going into mushy gushy details he said he was ready. Ready to move into a real relationship with me. He wanted to be a part of my life. He was willing to do whatever it took. I listened, and in the end told him I couldn't believe him. The ball was in his court from here on out. No calls would be made by me. No contact would come from me.If he wanted me, he would have to make an effort.

He has called. Four times in fact. Without me calling first. Twice for holidays and twice for no reason what so ever. Just to say hi.
It ain't much, but it's a start. We have a long long road ahead of us. But at least I don't feel alone in it. He SEEMS to be willing to meet me half way. I guess time will tell.

Some New Links

2010-01-23T11:48:00.000-08:00

Just a quick note that we have added some new links to other blogs. Well worth the visit to their sites. Now that I know how, I will be adding more. Our blog and blog roll has seen very little attention in the past year and I appologize for that. We have needed the time to figure out just where we stand.

We do not consider ourselves as "anti-adoption". We do support those who are. The term anti-adoption, has different meanings to different people. Expressed as only she could in the Anti Adoption blog, one of our newest additions, this woman expresses closest to what anti-adoption means to me. We want change, awareness, and transparency & ethics in adoption. I wouldn't speak for my daughter if I had not spoke "to" her first.

So for those of you who are my long lost friends, whom I have directed here, who want to know where I've been and what I've been up to. I have been learning as much as I can about a subject I knew virtually nothing about, my life. You will get a better understanding, a clearer picture of who I was, who I am, and hopefully what adoption means to so many who have had to live through it, by reviewing these well written other blogs. I hope you enjoy them, I hope you're enlightened.

Marketing is a part of everything.

2010-01-12T16:41:00.000-08:00

http://www.originscanada.org/sales-and-marketing-techniques/

I admit, I haven't had a chance to read this all the way through yet. But I read enough to want to post it. Marketing is key to any business keeping their doors opened. People sell themselves everyday, and I don't mean for cash. They put themselves out there and ask others to give a moments thought to what it is they are saying/selling. The best salesman knows his market. If you know someone who is considering surrendering their child. Pass this along to them or send them here for more info.

Adoption could be a wonderful thing if people weren't so sleezy.

Elephant in the room and other holiday cheer.

2010-01-06T05:09:00.000-08:00

Hello again all! The holidays are over and I'm finally able to get back here to share with you. It was a crazy season to say the least.
I want to talk about so many things, but I'm going to pick just one at a time.

As Lori said in the previous post, we were able to spend some precious and limited time together last month. I find myself looing more and more forward to these visits. I have to admit, this last visit was a bittersweet one. As much as I enjoyed spending time with my fellow bastards in Ohio and with Lori and brother T, much of this was overshadowed by my daughter and her release from the 'County Country Club' as Lori so eloquently put it. Lets be frank, we all know there was nothing country clubish about her visit to the local pokey. Especially since this was not her first stint there, but it was her longest. I missed Thanksgiving and Christmas with her. It was not a contented time for me. Serenity and contentment has not been a part of my life lately.

As you know, I found some lil' treats in D's room as I prepped it for her return. You would think I would have had that done already. I had plenty of time to do it. But the daunting, dark task of digging through her belongings and happening accross something she had been using to pollute her system was simply too much for me. Thank God for my hubby. If it wasn't for him, I probably would have not had the strength or courage to even enter that room. Lucky for me, I have a strong man in my corner.

I found numerous items that made the reality of how deep she was into some things very clear. I knew there were issues, I knew much of what was going on, but to have that infallable proof sitting right there-well-it was very heartwrenching.
As we got things going, clothes were pitched out in the hall to be washed, garbage was stuffed into bags, the pollutents were disposed of. Brother T was there for it all. He stood in the doorway watching. I barked for him to 'take this', 'throw this away'. He carried out empty beer and liquor bottles. The whole time watching me. He did this quietly and without hesitation. And he came back every time. Eventually he stayed downstairs with Lori. I think it was just too much for him. I can't say I don't understand.
A few times I myself came down with the pouch of my hoodie filled with bottles in all different forms. I flushed, I threw away. And I died just a slight bit with every bit of it. Part of me swirled and washed down with those mysterious little pills.

After we were done, I came down and just need to breath. Actually-I needed to smoke. So out to the garage I went. It was quiet. It was freezing cold. And it was overwhelming. It wasn't long before Lori's head poked out. Those big blue eyes burrowing into mine. Momma had come to comfort her baby. I sat on the chest freezer and had to chuckle as she tried to climb her way up there. She was completely turned the wrong way and ended up with her ass in the air and her hands on the freezer. But she made it, although she left much in the way of grace.
We chatted briefly and the door crept open again. There stood a very uncomfortable T, looking sheepish. He came out with no coat on and shivered while he listened to me poo poo about the fears I had about D. I questioned what I had failed at so much that my beautiful, intelligent daughter had found this path. T didn't hesitate for one second. He grabbed me in a deathhug. I buried my face in his chest and just cried. Lori watched this transpire and talked to us about genetics, placing blame where it belongs, about being us. T listened. He held me with one arm and grabbed her hand with the other.

I would love to tell you all it was a wonderful tender family moment. I would like to explain how bonding it was for the three of us. How I wished it could go on forever. But I'll be honest. IT SUCKED. But thankfully it sucked for us all collectively. And we shared it together.

I had known since day one that we were all going to be just fine. I never doubted that our lives would become intertwined like a regular family. But this was the first time I felt it on such a massive level. It hung in the air. It took on its own persona. The 'elephant in the room' as Lori would say. I won't even try to pretend that we are regular, normal or even average. Thats ok. We do odd and strange very very well. It works for us. If it ain't broke-don't fix it, right?

As much as I hated dealing with this, I'm glad I had Lori and T there. They helped me keep my sanity and vent my feelings. We may not be average, but we always make it work. Thats all that matters in the end.

Fragile, Fragmented, Fractured, but still a Family

2009-12-31T17:39:00.000-08:00

I just got home from my daughters house after a couple days together. I can not describe the feeling it gives me. Something deep inside feels centered, quiet, and yes at peace.

What I wanted to share is what transpired while I was there.

First I thought about backing out. My youngest son got violently ill the night before. He is old enough to care for himself, but I'm still a mom and I was going to be a few hundred miles away. Other than any excuse to get together, I was going so my older son could get some head shots done. This was planned well in advance, and even though it would have been acceptable to not go, a reschedule would have been difficult to pull off once he goes back to college.

There was another reason to go and this one was purely self serving. There were going to be several adoptee's that Rachael and I talk to on a regular basis in the Ohio area for a one night get together. Coined as the "Mid West Bastard Hook Up" and I was invited to tag along.

On top of all that my grand daughter was coming home for the first time in 2 months. She was given a two month stay at the prestigious Lenawee County Country Club (if you catch my drift)

So many things were planned, scheduled, worked around to make this happen and then my son got sick. I would have cancelled in a heart beat, but he wouldn't let me. That's the first sign of a family.

My oldest son and I packed up all the clothes we were going to need and headed out. The 3 to 5 inches we were expecting was already starting to fall and I still had to get my tires put on before I could leave town. Another reason I didn't want to go, if my sick son needed something from the store he would have to get it himself or wait hours upon hours for my husband to bring it home. I got what I could before I left, but there wasn't much opened that early in our tiny town. I was worried my son would try to get out, get stuck and then what? But I really needed these head shots, really wanted to go to the Bastard Hook Up and really wanted to be there for my grand daughter when she came home. We made it happen. Tires went on first thing in the morning, sick son fended for himself and lived, I got there in just enough time to drive to Ohio for the Hook up and the pictures were done the next day. All that was left was my grand daughter.

It was fun watching my son and daughter interact. It always is. Both boys love their sister and that couldn't make me any prouder. A fragmented family coming back together doesn't always work out, especially when there are so many years between them. She is 20 years older than my youngest and 19 years older than the oldest. Needless to say her surrender affected me.

so we get done with the shoot, eat at the table like a family (something that never happens at my house) and we settle in for the evening. Exhausted we all pretty much called it a day early.

Next morning, we lumbered around, talked about D coming home, and tried not to get too excited. Early afternoon, the transformation on her room started. Something that needed to be done before she got home. It needed to be transformed back into a bedroom from the almost pig sty that it was. My son in law could see that it was difficult for his wife to get the motivation necessary so he initiated the task and she joined him almost immediately. There were things that Rach knew she would find in D's room and there were a few surprises. When it was done, Rach went into the garage by herself and sat for a few minutes. I waited and then went to check on her. It wasn't long before my son was in there too. We talked about what was found, how her problems aren't necessarily her fault, that through reunion they were able to discover and make sense of my grand daughters as well as my daughters fondness for alcohol. My son sat and listened while Rachael talked through her tears about the things she didn't realize were going on with her daughter. She even said she didn't know where she went wrong. I had to chuckle at that because its every parents thought when their kids slide into weirdness. I looked at her and then at him and told them both that with all the information given from both Rachael and I, that if they allow this to happen to them it is no ones fault but their own.

My oldest son has a fondness for alcohol too. He has been warned most of his life that there is the potential for either him, his brother or both to have inherited this defective gene and they need to know about it. Most of the time he blows me off as just being a mom who doesn't want her kid to drink. But I have learned from past experiences with my kids that even though they blow me off, later on when its needed, to my surprise they display behavior that indicates they actually retained most of what I had said.

My daughter feeling defeated, anxious and afraid about "her" daughter coming home, couldn't help but shed tears over the situation. I saw my son ache "for' her. He reached out grabbed her and hugged her so tight. Then extended his hand to me. (Sign two of a family) What I have tried to do is "knowledge it out". I can't breed it out, it's bread in. I can however use the knowledge I have and make sure that my kids understand that its real and serious.

It was at this time that I knew I had made the right choice by keeping our plans. It was worth more than I can say to have my son experience this family moment, mostly because we don't have many. He is of legal age now and his own man. I have never told my son he can not drink. I told him he shouldn't, and if he does he needs to keep himself in check. I think he believes that now.

He went with Rachael to pick up D when it was time. The two stayed up long past the rest of us. I hope what she had to say, increased my sons knowledge of what kind of genetics we come from, how it can in fact sneak up on you and one day your life is out of control, and that any facility like the one she was in wasn't high on her list of repeats.

It's been ten years that Rachael and I have been slowly putting our fractured life back together. This is the first family situation that extended past my sons that has come into play. As much as I wish it hadn't happened, I'm glad my son and I were there. Its one of the few times I've felt like I have extended family. Like life exists beyond my two sons.

So as Fragile, Fragmented, and Fractured as we are, we have managed to put back together, a Family.

Looking for the Right Words

2009-12-23T12:52:00.000-08:00

I'm slow in my old age. I search for days some times for the right words that give me the most affect, and I eventually come up with them. This time is no exception other than it has taken a lot longer than a few days to find the right words.

I get on Yahoo Answers, in the adoption section waiting for women to post questions about surrendering their children. I point out many different things that surrendering women are not told about. The pain of being separated, the sealing of records, etc...

I just realized that signing away my own rights also meant signing away my daughters rights. I mean, I have heard it said, but it just didn't sink in. My signature meant "her"signature. How is it I didn't know that till now?

When parents sign away "their rights" they are also signing away the rights of the child. Those children will have less rights than non adoptees and it will not change until the law does.

I intent to use this true and accurate line from now on as it rings loudly about what adoption really does do.

Maybe it will have a more dramatic effect, maybe non adoptee's will understand better, instead of insisting I'm bitter and angry because I made a decision I don't want to live with or one I want to play victim over. I don't want to take back my decision, its too late, and I have always taken responsibility for what I did. But it never sunk in till just recently that by any parent putting their own signature on the dotted line, they are also putting their child's name on the dotted line. You as a parent no longer have a right to that child and that child no longer has a right to themselves.

As a parent you have rendered your child powerless over their own affairs, made them property of someone else, and branded them with second class citizenship. A stigma that is alive and well in the 21st Century as proven by the 44 states that remain sealed, and the ever growing fight to open records for all adopted citizens.

That is not to say that these children will not get good homes. (disclaimer) In fact this isn't about their homes at all. This is about them having the same rights to their records as anyone born and not adopted. I was about to say surrendered there, but that's not true. Surrendered does not mean adopted. They are two very different things and should be noted for their differences.

Upon surrender these children are not yet adopted. If an adoption doesn't go through or a disruption takes place (return the merchandise) the original records are kept in tact. IF an adoption does go through, the records are sealed, and often falsified to show the purchaser as the birther (adoptive parent as the natural parent). Those records have been and will continue to be sealed for 100 years. The good news if you happen to be one of those who does live that long, you can have access to your records then.

I'm still not against adoption. I know it sounds like I am, but I'm not. I'm against the crap laws that protect people from themselves, and how easily someone can put another in that position. There really aren't' too many adoptee's out there who agreed to having their records sealed. It's just something they have to live with because someone else put their own signature on a piece of paper.

Slowly Coming Around to a New Way of Thinking.

2009-12-16T12:50:00.000-08:00

Many know where I stand on the issue of OBC's, (original birth certificates). I had no idea they were sealed, no idea what problems this caused, no idea it was going to be impossible for Rachael to get one. So as time goes on and I do what I can to talk to people about unsealing records on behalf of those who live with it, I start to hear another voice rising up about first mothers having access to their childrens records as well. Everybody gets to know where everyone else is at.

I have to admit the thought didn't sit well with me. I was against it. I thought it was pushing it, and I was reluctant to get behind it. I was afraid it would open the door for those opposed to take the whole thing back to the drawing board for a few decades as a stall tactic, and I didn't want to be responsible for anyone losing out on a possible reunion because of it.

In a forum I frequent, this topic came up and I voiced my objections, as i often do. I was told that what I am presenting is more along the lines of an adoptive parents point of view, which I also do often. I can understand to a certain extent why some adoptive parents would be uspet. They were promised something that others are now trying to change. I can respect that. The problem is we were all promised something and all of us have been let down by the empty promises. If this is going to change, someone has to be the guy who takes it on the chin so things can.

So here is a chance to change the laws that exist for all current and future adoptee's. I suggested that we fight for their rights first and worry about ourselves another day. Wrong, and here's why. U.S. courts have ruled that there are no such things as "adoptee rights". No rights exist in law or can be upheld in court. Let that soak in for a minute. No matter how old you get as an adoptee, there are still certain rights that do not and will not pertain to you, because of a decision that was made for you. You are disallowed certain rights that pertain to the non adopted, but there are no other rights that pertain to you under the law.

As I listen, I begin to understand that this has been the problem all along. What I didn't understand was that there were no laws to uphold. How can anything be upheld when nothing exists?

I see the problem. I was told that as a first parent, one day we would reunite if my daughter wanted to. They didn't tell me that they were going to make it next to impossible for her to do so. So I feel a little betrayed, but I did sign the papers willingly, which makes me different than most during that time frame of surrender. I agree with most of what has been said so far but something still isn't sitting quite right for me about this proposal of first parents being granted access also. I know there will be lots of rebuttle and I don't want to be caught with nothing in our defense. So far I've heard their argument and I can't come up with anything to dispute it.

Then it slowly, over days, begins to sink in. When adoption started it was to hide the sins of an unwed mother and the embarassment of infertile couples. As time goes on, it becomes more about privacy for the parents raising the adopted child. Now, it's about my right to privacy as a damaged first parent.

Now I get it. They are using ME, my status to promote "their" agenda.

It was never about me. In fact they spent almost 30 years protecting my daughter and her new family FROM me. So now that they are losing on this false front of theirs, they have shifted their focus, their concern, their attention to me. The same people who kicked me to the curb like a mangy dog, who lied about my age and my status at the time, never returned any of my calls, now want to show compassion for my plight. Thanks but NO THANKS.

I will be joining this fight to unseal records for "all" involved, based on the lack of compassion that they showed me for almost 3 decades. You are not basing your argument on me not wanting to be found. I stand before you to say, I have waited for and always welcomed reunion, wanted to and do know my child, and am still enough of a mother and human being to answer any questions presented to me by "any" of my off spring. Most importantly their story of ancestry, heritage, and medical information that they can only obtain from their blood relatives. I never was, and am not now ashamed that my daughter was conceived out of wedlock. I accept full responsibility for my actions, and expect to be accounted for when you gather your statistics of how many first mothers do or do not want to be reunited.

The very clever underlying scenario behind all this is that the women who do not want to be found, also do not want to stand up and be counted. It would blow their cover. How convenient. I guess in order to have accurate numbers, those who do want to reunite need to be more visible than their invisible counter parts. How can you accurately account for someone who wants to be invisible? How can you honestly know how many exist if they will not stand up and be counted?

I've found MY justification for opening records to all. Consider me standing. Standing to be counted.

It makes sense to me now and I hope it does to others. If you want to be accurately counted there is no better way right now that to come out, join those who are not afraid to be visible, and tell them that you want to "establish" your surrendered childs rights. Rights you didn't know they didn't have. That you want to establish rights to reunite, and pass on info. Show them that you want accurate numbers in their study of just what percentage of first parents willing accept and look forward to contact with their adult child. Establish accuracy in Adoptee's Rights.

Off my soap box now.

Missing You

2009-12-08T19:02:00.000-08:00

As the Holidays quickly approach I find myself sensative to the pressure that is over taking everyone around me. My family is no exception. It's difficult to watch as your children burn themselves out. My daughter Rachael is working almost as much overtime as a normally scheduled week's work. She's Christmas shopping, regular shopping, visiting relatives, getting kids wardrobes ready for school activities, looking for pictures to send off, trying to keep up with the bills collectors, and still find time for her husband. She's been sick, tired, sick and tired and functioning on little to no sleep.

I admire her dedication to her family. I worry about her lack of dedication to herself. I see for the first time what people have been saying to me for years. There needs to be more time for just you. I know she comes by it honestly, family is the most important thing to both of us. I never felt I was abusing myself, but I'm worried about my daughter doing the same thing I have been guilty of.

I can remember not having time to be sick. Sounds silly but it's actually possible. You just keep going because you feel you have to. You know everyone is depending on you and you don't want to let anyone down. You just keep pushing yourself to get that next thing done, knowing that a time will come when things will settle down and you can breath again. You'll be able to sleep in a little, sip coffee slowly and enjoy the morning. You keep that thought and a pretty picture tucked neatly away where you can get to it when things start to become overwhelming. You go there for just a minute or two because that's all the time you have is a minute or two. You tell yourself to hang in there, that the time is coming when this will be more than just a picture in your mind. But today is not that day and to be honest tomorrow doesn't look likely either.

In order to spread yourself so thin with all the extra things that need to be done at this time of year, it is inevitable that other things have to be let go. Things like the morning coffee sipped slowly, the ritual shaving of the legs, the extra minutes spent on makeup and hair for the day, and phone calls. Phone calls to people you don't necessarily need to talk to but you like to talk to and do as often as you can.

I was in a chat session this evening talking to a few adoptee's I know. They asked what was going on with me. I responded by saying I missed my daughter fearcely. She is spending way too much time working and not spending enough time on the phone with me. I sounded like a spoiled child. I know she's busy, spread thin and exhausted. I was light heartedly kidding but at the same time telling the truth. I do miss her. I miss our 40 minute phone calls about absloutley nothing at all. Okay 60 minutes but its worth it just to hear her voice.

After 10 years of reunion I still feel like I have missed so much. That we still need to make up for that lost time. Lingering on the phone searching for something to say so we don't have to say good bye. Unknowingly giving these two women reason to be envious. I forget about others at times and don't think before opening my mouth. I got the response "I wish you were my mother" Something that I have heard often, warms my heart, but also deeply saddens me for those who say it. It makes me grateful for my relationship with my daughter. It also makes me want to smack some women up side the head with a basball bat for being so uncaring.

So as much as I miss you Rach, I do understand. You're busy, you're over loaded, you're taking care of your family. I know the day will come that we will have those long non important conversations again. That compared to others I have no right to complain about how long its been since we talked. For us it has been days, for some of them years, and for others a life time. But I can't help it, I find myself missing you.

BOO-YEAH....

2009-10-01T02:48:00.000-07:00

Halloween approaches and it is my favorite time of year. The leaves are incredible here in Michigan and they simply take your breath away. That and the bitter cold that sets in, but hey, everyplace has it's pitfalls.
At this time of year I am always busy constructing costumes for my kids. This year I am facing twin ice cream cones and R2D2. The older ones will dress, but only to be cool....cause begging for candy isn't cool enough for them any more.

Windows are covered in Frankenstein, Dracula and mummies. Yards are strewn with mock tombstones, witches and black cats with arched backs. Bats and creepy crawlies hang from branches and a feeling of mystic static fills the air. We can be what we can't normally be in our daily lives. Princesses, super heros, silly things and scary things. We have that one day to shed any social stigmas and let loose. And who doesn't love that?
This year has a different feel to it than it normally does for me. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I passed it off as my kids getting older and not having that accustomed wide eyed knaviety as in years past. I pretended the past few years had worn on my own inner child and I was just feeling more adult than I had before. I had a ton of excuses for it, a list as long as my hubby's arm. (and boy does he have long arms.) But I wasn't being honest with myself. It was easier to pretend, like I had for my whole life. But I can't pretend any more. I've lost that ability.

I'm not growing older and losing my stary eyed Halloween spirit. I'm growing into what I have always been but didn't want to admit. I am the skeleton in the closet. Me. With no costume. Just me being me.
Now this is quite a time in life to realize you are a big fat secret, one to be buried forever and forgotten. Or at the very least barely thought of. I'm getting close to 40, you would think this revelation would have happened years ago. I think part of it did, but I wouldn't allow myself to wrap my brain around it enough to give it a title or a place in my life. But as I age, I find it harder and harder to keep up false personas. I don't have the time or energy to devote to it and quite frankly, I don't care to. It is what it is. I am what I am.

I am the skeleton. That lurking looming presence that stikes fear into the heart of my father. The thing that he has worked so hard to lock away behind that closet door and leave forever. He tried to throw away the key, but I just kicked in the door. Who needs a damn key?

It was all fun when I thought I was donning a costume to be something else. Taking on the form of something I wasn't. It was exciting and freeing. But once you come face to face with the fact that you are and always have been nothing but that freakishly dark secret in someones emotional closet-it kind of loses the magic of dressing the part.

Maybe this year I'll be more honest with my costume. I'm thinking a plastic knife protruding out of my back and through my heart might be more appropriate and much easier to pull off this year.

Happy hauntings everyone. BOO!!! yeah....whatever....

Snoopy Come Home

2009-09-25T04:52:00.000-07:00

I was at work just the other day, laughing with a friend about old 'Peanuts' episodes. We talked about the specials they came out with for the holidays and such and giggled at ourselves about how we waited all year to see those. It was a light conversation and very enjoyable. I told her that as a child I was not one to cry. But I clearly remember one thing that was GUARANTEED to make me sob hysterically and unconsolably. The Peanuts show called "Snoopy Come Home".

I told her how it was horrible for me, but I wait every year for that one show to air. My sister also remembered and had actually spoken over the years about my violent physical reaction to watching this, every single year. I was literally a blubbering mess, tears and snot, incoherant mumbles and jarring uncontrolable sobs that took HOURS to subside. Once about 2 years ago my sister was telling the story and said "this one here (pointing to me) NEVER cried. You could damn near lop her arm off and she wouldn't cry, but let Snoopy Come Home play-and she was bawling"

I found amusment in the fact that she remembered that about me. I felt slightly embarassed that a childs show was able to have such an effect on me. And I passed it off as silly kid antics.
Until now. Until just a few days ago. Thats when I had an adoptee epiphany. One that now explains so much about me. Who ever would have thunk that Snoopy would be the one to open such a huge floodgate for a 37 year old woman?

The episode is about Snoopy and his former owner at the puppy mill. She had fallen ill and needed him to 'come home'. He packed his little hobo pack with food dish nestled inside and said a hard goodbye to dear ol' Charlie Brown. Charlie was confused, worried and hurt. He wanted to know if he was coming back, why he was leaving him, what did he have to do to make Snoopy stay.
But Snoopy, in a strong bold move of unadulterated loyalness, said goodbye and set off on his journey to his former owner.
He sat at her bedside, nurtured her, loved her, tended to her needs and showered her in laughter and companionship. Then the time came, he had to choose. Charlie Brown and his family or the little girl that he used to belong to. He loved them both so desperately. He did not want to hurt either of them. He was confused and torn.

And I totally FELT that. No matter how many years passed or how many times I saw that same show, I still felt that pain and confusion for Snoopy. It was like it was me.

I never understood before. But now I do. IT WAS ME. That cartoon beagle was me!!!

Now the re-coup time of viewing this show was a couple days. It literally drained me of everything I had. We as a family passed it off as flu/cold, as all kids get. No big deal, but now, I'm convinced it was more. I had a mental meltdown everytime that show played and I was rebounding.

One more thing that I remembered that had long since been forgotten, was that I don't ever remember Mom and Dad being there to watch it with me. I was always with my older sister. That was an evening they seemed to have plans. And I don't think it was a coincidence. I truly believe they couldn't stand to see me like that, they didn't have the words to make it better. No amount of hugs and soothing was ever enough. And I think that they felt utterly helpless and possibly worthless. I can only imagine what went through their minds at this time. I'm now a parent, and if I saw my child have such a reaction to something, I don't know I could handle it either.

How is it that a cartoon can so easily and accurately capture the emotions of adopton? How could it take me decades to figure out that was why I reacted the way I did? It should have been obvious to me, but it wasn't.

Snoopy brought me to my own feelings, something no one on earth was able to do-and I didn't even know it was happening. I have to stop here, I can feel the same old emotions creeping in.

And The World Turns...pffffttt....

2009-07-29T13:40:00.000-07:00

I'm sure most of you have read Lori's post, the parental meeting was a bust. Lori was there and we did have a great time. But Jim was MIA and I was beyond heartbroken. Yes I do still question my place in his life, especially now, after a war online with his dear dear sister.

I can not believe things got so far out of hand. The venom that oozed from those emails was shocking. She took horrible personal stabs at me and my entire family, but Lori took the brunt of her focus. But I got my spanking too, trust me. Lori is right on when she said she painted a very unsavory picture of Jim. She projects him as a pathetic momma's boy that is incapable of making any life decision without guidance from sister or mother. There was even a comment made to me about him being violent. She claims that she was locked in her home crying tears of fear because she was convinced that either Jim or Lori were coming to get her.
So lets recap....Jim is a complete pod person that is too weak to make a choice for himself, he can be manipulated very easily (because I have done that), he is excessivly violent and hostile, and he does not care about his family in any way.
Thats some great things to say about a man that you claim to love more than life itself and are closer to than anyone else in the world.

Now I have ended contact with her. I will not call Jim either. I promised him that the ball was in his court, I was obviously moving too fast for him, so he can take the lead now. I want to talk to him, I want to hear his voice to reassure me that this will not end OUR relationship, but it's his move. Maybe soon, maybe....

This is exactly what I feared when I first had contact with him. I battled with the fear of disrupting his life, exileing him from the ones that he has had in his life all these years, basically being a thorn in his side. The deed was not by my hands, but it did happen, due to my presence. I feel responsible. His life was quiet, calm and just the way he liked it before me. Now it is riddled with pain, confusion and down right nastiness. And who is the eye of that storm? YUP...good ol' Rachael.

Lori has talked to me, assured me, comforted me. I am so thankful to have her, I don't know what I ever did without her. And Jim will one day call me, he will promise that all is fine, he took care of it. But in my heart, it won't be fine. I have ruined his peaceful life. I know this because dear ol' auntie put that out there. His serenity will never be restored. Not as long as I am in his life.

I guess the only thing I can do is sit and wait. If he calls, great. If he doesn't, then I move on. I can't possibly blame him if he doesn't, that is his family. His sisters and brother, nieces and nephews, his mother. I can not and WILL NOT ask him to choose. But I know they will ask him.

AND THE WORLD TURNS.....END OVER END.....

How Sad

2009-07-29T05:59:00.000-07:00

Our get together was Saturday. We did have a good time. I spent some time talking to Rachael's family members, walking around the pond, cruised her neighborhood, and fished with my grand son. We ate excellent food, and Rachael's sister made me cry, (bitch). It has been ten years since our reunion and I had seen no pictures of her as a baby, toddler, or per teen. I had seen a few of her as a teenager that she had, but the rest were in her parents house and some digging had to be done to resurrect them. I understand completely, I just did the same thing for my son's graduation.

Rachael's sister presented me with a scrap book that brought tears to my eyes. Try to imagine seeing your own child's baby pictures for the first time 36 years later. Definitely a tear jerker, and there was hair. Her sister put a lock of her hair in the book. And there was a sticker that said something about "how can a child know where they are going if they don't know where they have come from. It is one of my most treasured possessions, that's for sure.

We missed Jim's presence, but we managed just fine without him. The whole reason this afternoon food fest was possible was because I had to come down anyway to pick my son up from the airport. We just worked around his schedule and made it happen. Not the easiest thing to do, schedule all these people in one place, we all have different things going on at all times.

When Jim called and told me he just couldn't make it, I reassured him that although I was disappointed, I definitely understood. I didn't have the heart to tell him it was a big mistake. That there would be no more offers. It wasn't my place and I wasn't comfortable with it sounding like an ultimatum. We ended the conversation on his hope that it would happen another time.

On Sunday, Rach, two of her kids and I left hours early for the airport. We went to Jim's place of work, it's a really relaxed place of work so it wasn't like we invaded, embarrassed, or got him in trouble in any way. He was feeling uncomfortable and apologized for bailing on her. He could see that she was upset. I'll leave out most of the details, their personal. As we were leaving, she hugged him and headed for the door, I gave her my keys so she could keep walking, I knew she was going to cry. Her daughter and son hugged him. His grand daughter he had met before. His 6 year old grand son he was meeting for the first time. I don't want to tell you what it did to me the day before to see the disappointment in his face when he heard his grand father wasn't coming. It was the worst part of the whole day. I brought up the rear with my hug and whispered in his ear that she is convinced he doesn't want her, that she is feeling rejected for a second time and it is hurting her more than he can know.

He immediately took off after her, unable to get past the kids in a narrow hallway. When we got out side I called her and took my keys from her. I asked the kids to come with me, leaving her there with her father to try and smooth out the myth that he doesn't care. When they were done he walked her to the car, he hugged her and held on to her in an attempt to let her know that she is not being rejected a second time. I believed every bit of it. I still do. He was given a family portrait that was recently taken of them. I showed him some of the pictures in the scrap book and I asked him very quietly if it was okay that I brought them there. I was assured it was more than okay. I believed it, all of it. I still do.

The next day Rach got on face book and posted that we had a great time in spite of missing the guest of honor. I commented on her post in an attempt to reassure her that it wasn't intentional, but rather just not the right time for him, which I have been saying all along. He just wasn't ready and no one understands that better than I do. I've been in his shoes. Talk about feeling like a failure. It makes you examine every decision you have ever made before and since that one decision. You look at your life from every aspect, run over and over in your head, the things you have done, mostly focusing on the not so parental ones, comparing yourself to people who have been sanctified by the whole world for adopting a child and rescuing them from the clutches of their evil breeders. Now they want the evil breeder to step up to the plate and show their face. Harder than you can imagine, much harder.

I used the words of the man himself, I responded with "just another bad choice by him". He admitted to making bad choices in his life. We all have bad choices we have made, but he feels he has made more than some and he's not proud of it. I'm not proud of some of my choices either, biggest one being letting my daughter go. Not my proudest moment, nor his.

This set off a reaction in his sister that she felt needed to be addressed publicly and intentionally misdirected. She knew it was my comment, yet she went after my daughter on a public board because of it. You tell me, was this just the excuse she was trying for, for months?

When we first met Jim and his family members, it was at her house. She was the perfect hostess. I did notice one thing though, she took no time in pointing out that my room mate all those years ago, after having Rach and surrendering her, was in fact in love with Jim. She never told me. I thought it was odd and in bad taste to go on and on about this woman who bought a gown expecting him to invite her to prom. I blew it off.

Then came the weeks after the meeting, where she suddenly had an email address, that she insisted she didn't have at the time of the meeting. That's okay, maybe it was down. Next was Jim himself asking that we don't use his full name on the Internet. I don't blame him for that one, and it was followed by, please don't post any pictures of me. Okay, a little disappointing but wish granted. Within weeks his sister has started posting all kinds of family pictures that weren't there when she originally accepted myself and my daughter through the Internet. That was great. There were video clips and old photos, newer ones of all the gang and my daughter was really excited to see so many relatives.

It didn't take long before Dear Auntie made it clear that she didn't want me around any more. I had told them that they did not have to have a relationship with me in order to have one with my daughter. That was all debunked in an instant. Auntie and Jim himself insisted that we are all family now. That my kids and my husband will be accepted as readily as my daughter was. It was wonderful, things were working out better than I had expected. I didn't really care if we ever got together with his family, it was Rach that needed that connection not me. I remember most of them from school. It was a nice gesture that made her feel great but didn't last long.

Rachael was told that there was just something about me and she didn't want me around any more. Actually I was a bit relieved, as I smelled something foul in her air anyway and now I didn't have to keep it to myself. I remember her from school, and the picture she was painting wasn't exactly what I remembered. But some things are private and I will not go any deeper into that on the Internet.

Now that I have been removed from the picture, she stops answering Rachael's questions about family. New pictures would go up and Rach would ask one word "cousins" with a question mark behind it. No reply. Rach asked about some additional medical history, minor stuff really, but none the less she was told she can ask any additional questions she wants, no reply.

Then the subtle insinuations that Rach is bothering Jim. Vague, but still detectable. Then a few small bashes at me, gently, yet still said. Leaving both of us wondering if its just her or if Jim is actually feeling these things, relaying them to her and expecting her to do his dirty work.

Which brings us to the comment about Jim making just another bad choice. Maybe I could have used different words, but my daughter is getting sick of me defending him all the time, so I tried a different approach. Auntie, responded with a comment about some things being private, and some people not being able to be pushed, and that there was no bad choice made. This went back and forth a few times and I posted again that I took exception to the pushed comment. No one was pushing Jim, he was invited. Him and i had talked about that. He felt he had no right, and I assured him he didn't. Neither of us has any rights any more, we signed them away, but we were invited. I told him how scary and vomitroucious it was for me, I understood. But she just went into a self induced rage over airing HIS personal life on the Internet. This from a woman who took offense to the public airing of his laundry. A woman who took no time posting pictures of him after us being asked not to. Proof that she is closer to him than either of us will ever be, and the rules don't apply to her.

She got down right mean on the public board. Then she realized what she had done and removed all her comments. No one can stick anything to her now. She started with personal emails. Ripped my daughter up one side and down the other. Accused Rach of hounding him by showing up at his work the day after he finally decided to do something special for himself (the same day he was supposed to be with us). No subtle hint there that he spent that time doing "something special" it simply didn't include HER. That he was at such peace that day, like she had not seen him in years. Told her that she knew that Rach was going to tell Jim about the emails and to just try to ruin THEIR relationship. I had felt for a long time that something was bothering auntie about new women coming into his life. Not so much me, but Rach. Something about it just didn't set well with her. Now I wonder if she isn't part of the reason he never married.

Rach refused to do anything but respond to Auntie's accusations (which were flying like paper in a tornado) with truth, honesty, and politeness. I on the other hand took this opportunity to call Jim and tell him that in subtle yet very obvious fashion this has been going on for months and is now getting out of hand. His own sister had made him look like a wimpy ass in the eyes of his daughter and myself. She spewed things that insinuated he was incapable of making a decision without his family all being involved. That she was his official spokes person and she was taking this opportunity to expel Rachael from the family and his life. That his mother was the one who told him not to go. Jim is not one who can hide when he is annoyed. He was highly annoyed and said he would handle it.

Another email after being told to knock it off, lands in Rach's inbox accusing HER of taking no time in ruining a relationship between a brother and sister that had been long standing and now over in an instant all because of her. She was livid that her brother would not believe her. Probably because he knows her. Again Rach responds with truth, honesty, and calm politeness. Answering every accusation thrust upon her. At which point Auntie begins to soften briefly toward Rach, and responds with "then it must have been Lori".

A real brain surgeon she is. It only took her maybe seven or eight correspondences back and forth to figure out that her original argument was with me, not my daughter. She should have been able to understand that in the first comment I posted (everyone else saw it) but for some reason she needed to run the gambit on my daughter first. Unleashing all her penned up aggression about not knowing all these years that her precious brother slept with me and produced a child that she knew nothing about. I can see from her un-natural attachment to him that this is a huge slap in the face to her.

Her last email was so vile, and vicious, that I take great pride in printing ALL of the correspondence's off and sending them to Jim to read for himself. She may have deleted her comments from the board but since we were still listed as friends they are all in my inbox.

I don't want him to side with me. I want him to see for himself what has been going on for months, possibly years, maybe his whole life. Subtle little innuendos that have been deliberately chipping away at his relationship with his daughter and God only knows who else. Even his other family members got in on it. It didn't help his image any, they made him look like an even bigger ass as they said they can't wait till he starts kicking ass, meaning mine.

How sad that something that was supposed to be between the parties involved seems to be filtered by family members who feel threatened.

Would it have been difficult to go to the family get together? Absolutely, it's hard. Would they have been staring at him? YUP, but not in the way he imagines. Instead of staring at his long hair, his bushy mustache, his clothes.... they would have been looking at his eyes, his nose, trying to see past the bushy mustache for his mouth... to see if it resembled Rachael's in any way. They would have been studying his mannerisms, cadence, sense of humor, laugh, gestures, not his vehicle, status, or memberships.

I am sad for my daughter, she has done nothing to deserve this. I am embarrassed for him, he has lost much respect. I am relieved that my memory had not betrayed me, this is the family I remember from all those years ago.

Rollercoater Richochet

2009-07-25T21:49:00.000-07:00

What a week this has been. Not only was my youngest brother up for a huge opportunity in his life (and NAILED it, just for the record! yay!!) but this was the weekend I was to get my aparents together to meet my bdad. They have met Lori-and it was incredible. She was coming along, because they invited her back. They wanted her there and were truly looking forward to meeting Jim. I was on cloud nine as you can imagine. Seriously, how many adoptees have the chance to get the parents that gave them life in the same room as the parents that gave them a life? Not many, let me tell you.
At first, it was all on track, he said he would be there. He was nervous of course, but he was doing it for me. My father was stepping outside his comfort zone to give me something that I deeply wanted.
Then he thought about it and decided he couldn't do it. It was too much for him. Which I understand. I really do. I won't even pretend to know the emotions he felt. The fear of judgement, of the 'look' or any other racing thoughts that sprung into his head. But he could have told me first. Instead he told Lori. I can see why, she has been there. She faced them months ago and lived. She was just like him-the parent that willingly signed away their child. She could relate to him on a level that I could only imagine.
Eventually he did call me. He fessed up that he was not comfortable with it. That it didn't seem right to him. OK...at least we are being honest. I, being Lori's daughter, saw this as a time of honesty and I let him have some. I told him that this WAS NOT my idea. THEY wanted him there. THEY planned this last year when he bailed out. Not me.
I told him how they tried to help me when I was 14 and so desperately lost and in need of him and Lori in my life. THEY TRIED. For me, only because it meant so much to me. (of course the courts stopped them, but the point is they tried)
I told him I had never asked him for anything, that I never wanted anything-except to know him. Just to HAVE HIM, nothing more. That was enough. I told him I was afraid that one day something would happen to him and I, his only child, would be at his funeral learning about what kind of person he was, because I can't seem to be let into his realm.
Needless to say he was stunned. He truly seemed to understand that this was healing for me, mom and dad, but mostly him. He was being offered the opportunity to SEE FIRST HAND the life his daughter was given. My house, room, family...all of it. It could help him with his feelings of guilt. I could have released him from that pain he has carried for 36 years.
After a few moments of talking he said he could do it. That he would be there. I told him I do not take commitments lightly, if he said he was going to be there, I was going to expect him there. He said the words I wanted so desperatly to hear. "I PROMISE I'll be there."

I jumped on the phone to relay the news to everyone. Mom and Dad, Lori, sister...everyone. Hubby warned me, he told me not to expect it to happen, but I brushed his concerns off with not a second thought. HE SAID HE WAS COMING!!! HE PROMISED!

As the weekend approached, my nerves were maxed out. I struggled with concentrating at work, home chores were staggering to accomplish, I was extremely sensitive about everything. I just could not contain myself.

Friday came, Lori was heading down that day so we would have some time together. We were to meet Jim on Saturday and together we would head to my parents. But before she could leave her house, Jim called. He was not coming. He told her I had BULLIED him into agreeing, that he was no longer losing any sleep over this, that there was no reason for meeting them, that I cornered him. Best of all....he told her to tell me.
He never called me. Not once. I am not even worth the time or the dime to call and tell himself.

Lori and I went anyway-without him. I had a great time. We laughed, we told stories, my sister gave Lori a book filled with pictures and memories of me. We stuffed our bellies with bbq and brownies. And I know in my heart this is not the last time. There will be more days spent just enjoying each others company.
But not for Jim. Mom said she was done trying to open up to him. I don't blame her. I totally understood how she felt.

As much as I sympathize with Jim and is feelings, as much as I want to say it's ok...maybe next time. I can't. I won't. In 2 years he has made no effort to have me in his life. None. He love me, I DO know that much. But I am simply not the daughter he expected. I will never live up to the imaginary expectations he had. He gave me up to give me more. I assume he figures if I am nothing more than a factory rat then I could have just stayed in the town I was born in.
Yes I am feeling sorry for myself. Yes I need to quit being so dramatic. But I won't and I know that.

This is not about one weekend that didn't turn out. It was about the basis of trust, an outreach by him to show that he cares.
It was about me wanting to love him and wanting to have him love me back. Not for any other reason then he is my father and I am his daughter.

PHILLY PROTEST

2009-07-11T21:48:00.000-07:00

I have been so swamped with the normal things in life that I barely have time to breath. But there is one thing that has been standing out in my mind. THE PHILLY ADOPTEES RIGHT PROTEST. I can't get it out of my mind. I wanted to go so desperately, but the forces of nature stepped in once again. It was not in the cards for me to be there.

That doesn't stop me from sending my support. NOTHING could stop me from sending that.

TO ALL MY KINDRED PREPARING FOR THEIR TRIP TO PHILLY, I SEND YOU MY LOVE AND SUPPORT. MY HEART AND SOUL IS RIGHT THERE NEXT TO YOU, WITH MY FIST HELD HIGH!
Bless you all, give 'em hell!!!

Legal lies

2009-06-02T05:48:00.000-07:00

I am feeling rather snarky today. I can't explain why, but today is a day that things are just pissing me off. Top of the list? MY AMENDED BIRTH CERTIFICATE. Why today? Hell if i know, but it's nagging me.

A very short time ago I had to travel to Lansing to get my birth certificate. Several years ago our house was broken into and my entire safe was stolen, with my birth cert inside. (along with a copy of ALL my adoption papers and a copy of my original birth cert that Lori signed)I haven't had any call for it in all this time, but now that I am looking into college, I needed it.
I travel there, wait in line and get my form. Right on the form it asks the standard stuff, name, address, etc....but the next section asks for 'name at birth' that is immediately followed by 'is this person adopted?'
That took me by surprise. So I walk back up to the counter and ask questions-as I am so prone to do.

Me-"excuse me, it says here name at birth. do they actually mean like when I was in the hospital?"
Guy-'umm...yeah....'
Me-"what if I don't know that? or if I didn't have a name?"
Guy-'are you adopted?'
Me-"yes, I didn't have a name. I wasn't given a name at birth."
Guy-'well, then just put in the last name of your parents'
Me-"my adoptive parents? or my bio parents?"
Guy-'your bio parents. we need that'
Me-"BUT...what if I don't KNOW their names?"
Guy-'oh, then we may not be able to help you. we need that information.'

So can anyone tell me how this is possible? THEY are the ones that changed my birth certificate, THEY sealed it away and then made me a new one. THEY won't allow me to have any of that info not matter how many times I ask. Now THEY are telling me I need to know all of that, but they won't give it to me, and they may not be able to get me what I need because THEY are not at liberty to release it, because THEY sealed it away, but yet I'm supposed to magically know some how.
DOES THIS PISS ANYONE ELSE OFF?

Ok-so yes I knew I didn't have a name and I knew what was written in place of a name. Yes I have Lori's name and she verified the info on what I once had was true, but that is so not the point. The point is-WHAT IF I DIDN'T KNOW? What if the state got what they wanted and I never got to see those papers and I never found Lori and Jim?
I know what would have happened...I would have been screwed. College would be gone and so would anything else I ever may need my birth certificate for.

My anger stems from several aspects, like they just expect me to know this stuff, even after they have taken it from me and told me (and I quote) "you are not entitled to have that info"
That if I were to alter legal paperwork I would be checking out the inside of a comfy cage, but they can erase, alter and add whatever they like-then seal it up. And on top of that they can deny me things that non adopted people get with ease. Like a passport or college funding or any number of inalianable rights.

I have it easy, I found both bio parents. I know my info on my birth certificate it accurate and I was adopted early enough that getting a passport might not be impossible. But how many of us are there that are just turned away and punished for the adoption they didn't choose? GRRRRR......so not fair.

Some people don't have the correct date, time, state, etc on their papers. HOW CAN THAT HAPPEN? In what world is it ok for officials to come in, write whatever they want on that form, even if it changes someone birthdate, then seal it up and punish you for their actions? Is there any other place in the world that this is acceptable practice? I think not. But we are adopted, so shut up and be grateful. PFFFFTTTTT.....not gonna happen. I hanven't shut up for 36 years, why should I start now??

The other thing that angered me about all this is that when I did finally get my amended birth certificate, it wasn't like everyone elses. NOPE. There was no weight, length, birth order, time, hospital/city/county of birth, nothing. It had my adopted name, aparents names, birthdate and thats it. The look I got from the woman processing my college paperwork was classic. She asked me where I got that from. She has never seen one like mine. I had to chuckle and give a brief explaination, which by the way-appalled her. GOOD, it should. It's a sick practice and I'm tired of it. No one else has to endure this, why us? If a non adopted person found out their birth certificate was altered, they would flip out, lawsuits would follow, news and press at the door. But me? Nope, it's all legally justified somehow and acceptable.

BULLSHIT

This has been fought and fought over the years to no avail. I just can't understand how this is justified and ignored. How it is an illegal act for someone not adopted, but perfectly ok for me and the rest of us.

SIGH....end rant now....

By Joe, She's Almost Got It.

2009-06-01T07:45:00.000-07:00

Okay, because of my age and the exposure to old movies I can't help but feel a little like the original Dr. Doolittle in the the movie My Fair Lady. He takes a street urchin (Audrey Hepburn) with badly broken English and turns her into a socialite. Months of hard work on his part and hers, turned an ugly duckling into a beautiful swan. To which he exclaims, "By Joe I think she's got it" (might have been George instead of Joe but you get my drift)

Another weekend down state staying with my mother so my son can get to his training. SHE brings up a Dr. Phil segment that she taped so I could watch. Oh yippee, just what I want to do. She says it's about two kids who aged out of Foster Care. I about slid off my chair.

WHAT!!

You taped something, anything, about kids in foster care? ( not out loud)

Really, I questioned, calmly. She starts talking about the injustice to these kids.

Aliens ate my mother and stole her appearance, moved into her house and are posing as someones next door neighbor. Gotta be, because this is not my mother.

We started watching the tape and talking about these kids stories, how the one girl was thrown out on the street at age 18, never being adopted because she was deemed a danger to other children because she watched her methed out mother kill her baby sister. Not only that, she froze her little body for a week, laid her out in the closet as a sort of make shift funeral viewing and then her and her husband hacked her into bits and burned her in the homes fire place, spreading her ashes later in the river. Mom was convinced that the kids were demons and vampires and she put drops of bleach in their ears and eyes, and made them drink bleach to exercise the demons.

My mother was outraged. I made her stop the tape. I pointed out to her that there are millions of people who honestly believe that "I" am on some form of level playing field with this woman, because I surrendered my daughter. And that when they threw this girl out on the street, not only did her support stop, so did her medication, if she was on any. We talked about kids being unnecessarily drugged to near catatonic states with psychotropic drugs so they won't be a bother.

Resume tape.

A young man tossed to the curb when reaching the age of 18 by the foster care system, can't get a job because he has no birth certificate. He has been moved so many times no one even has record of him any more. He's literally not in the system, (or so they say). When the case worker would come new clothes were purchased and hung in the closet, only to be returned for the cash after the visit was over. Again no where to go, couch surfing, and spent most of his nights sleeping on a wooden bench.

STOP TAPE.

MOM DO YOU REALIZE someone has been collecting money off this kid for years who is now mysteriously NON EXISTANT? ARE YOU AWARE that since 911, tons of adoptees can not get a passport, because the only legal document they have access to is a falsified birth certificate which is no longer accepted by the very same people who FALSIFIED IT? Which is illegal.

Although Dr. Phil and a few other distinguished guests, managed to get each of these kids something. The girl got a crib full of stuff for her 8 month old baby so she didn't have to sleep in a play pen any more, a $20,000 scholarship to obtain a career to support her child, and a $1,000.00 gift card for clothes from JC Penney's. The guy got the same gift card and someone to help him look into documentation so he can obtain a job, and i can't remember if they offered him a place to stay or not, I was getting irritated by this point.

My mother asked me if I was disgusted yet? Taking the focus off of the fact that Dr. Phil just helped 2 out of 500,000 people and returning it back to the fact that my mother seemed to understand what the program was about, I started to tell her about some of the stories of the people I talk to on line. The Canadian foster care system, children stolen and sold, how much an adoption costs these days as opposed to how much it cost in my daughters day. How some women were told their children were dead, only to find out years later that it was a lie. How one adoptive mother staged the death of her adoptee and had a funeral so the first mother wouldn't search. How lots and lots of men in our prison systems are in fact adoptee's who were kicked to the curb just like these two she just watched, labeled as habitual criminals, because they have no life skills and they get cold and hungry. While the whole time someone was collecting money off their existence as an income. The least they could have done was taught them something that would help them when their time was up in the system.

It was a riveting, and stimulating conversation, she actually knew something about something that mattered to me. My mother, the never have an opinion, never make waves, NEVER speak out against your government, was finally starting to pay attention to something that mattered to me and we actually had a discussion about it.

I felt a little teary eyed with pride, when I told her to imagine she was an adoptee, who like my daughter had already found her entire family, at her own age, 76, was told by some snot nosed, and i paused, "LITTLE BITCH" she says, (holy shit who are you) (who ever you are I like you sooo much better than the woman I have known all my life,) that you CAN'T HAVE your original birth certificate, that it is in fact NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. My pollyanna, 5ft. nothing, petite, gray haired mother said "GOD, that makes me want to reach across the counter and rip her throat out."..... YES! OH MY GOD YES!!! who ever you are I don't care what you did with my mother, don't bring her back. You stay. Pleeeeeease.

It has been T H E most riveting conversation I have ever had with her. We talked about my grand son who needed his WHOLE medical back ground, not just half. We talked about generations lost and what some people had to wait through for all the tests to be run to find out what they would have already known had they SOME FORM of medical history. My mother has passed kidney stones before, she remembers what that felt like.

When talking about International adoption, and some domestic, I asked her how she figured there were so many orphans in the world, with no one to care for them. She looked at me and with a puzzle in her voice she replied, "I don't know".

I started on the grateful bit, and alas my mother had returned. SHIT, I lost her again. She sees no reason why an adoptee shouldn't be eternally grateful.

Al in all, it will probably be the only conversation with her I have ever felt had any substance. We made great strides, and I shouldn't expect perfection. I should not be disappointed, but I do want to know if the alien who took up residence for such a brief time will be returning in two weeks when I have to go down state again. I deliberately hung around for a few hours patiently awaiting their return. Nope, she was back, but it gave me a glimmer of hope.

How do you let go?

2009-05-29T05:09:00.000-07:00

In a recent conversation with a friend, I found myself suggesting she let go of her daughter. Not to adoption, but rather to life itself. This child is 18 and smart, but for some unknown reason, she clings to excuses rather than the fact that she needs to get out there and make a life for herself.

It is so hard for me to say those words without feeling the pain of surrender. The mother is afraid that her daughter will never forgive her, she will leave and never come back, she will blame the mother for throwing her out instead of standing by her. I understand the mothers feelings, I really do. All too loud and clear comes back the feelings of "she will hate me", "she won't want anything to do with me", "she will never look for me", and it hurts. But there comes a time in every child's life that they need to go. They need to step outside the realm of the family unit, and find out who they are as an individual. Especially if that child's actions or lack of action is causing problems within the family unit.

To listen to her talk on the phone, cry, say she can't live without her daughter in her life, is so familiar, that it almost haunts me. The thought of never seeing her daughter again is what keeps her from taking any kind of real action toward helping her daughter find out who she is and what she's capable of. The fact that the mother herself is an adoptee, complicates the situation even further. Because she was abandoned by her own mother, because she felt alienated herself growing up, she struggles with where to draw the line in regard to her own daughter. I do not disagree with her on this, but feel sometimes the best thing you can do is let go. This child is not an infant, she's by no means helpless. She is "quite" capable of not only functioning on her own, but very possibly becoming an extremely influential member of society, she just needs direction and a chance to spread her wings. She needs to fine tune her passion a bit but who didn't at her age. Passion is what creates influence. If you are not passionate about something, you will never convince anyone of your position on it, and this girl has passion, about a lot of things.

I don't have a crystal ball to prove that the relationship between these two women will survive, but I do have faith that as close as they are to one another, nothing, will stand between them in the long run. I base my opinion on my own relationship with my daughter. We had many obstacles, and still, still, were able to defy all the odds, all the naysayers, all the road blocks and put together a relationship. We did what we needed to do, no matter how painful, and it was painful, but we succeeded, we conquered, and we built a decent life for the two of us.

I know its completely different, as mine and my daughters life started with letting go. I can't help but believe that there comes a time in every parent child relationship that going, and letting go, is the very thing that keeps us together. Some baby birds fly out of the nest, others need a gentle shove, most find their wings. This young lady is so ready to fly, so ready to leave her mark on the world, her fear is of the unknown, and it is stifling her, eating up precious time, robbing her of her place in the universe, and causing very possibly irreparable damage to her family unit.

My problem is finding words that don't sound like an old pro at walking away from your kids. I heard it myself in our conversation, I felt it in the quiet moments when nothing was being said. It rang in my ears, "it was easier for you, you did it at birth". It wasn't easier for me. Nor will it be easy for her. But I can't help but feel that the focus in this situation is on the wrong aspect of it. It feels like the focus in on abandonment instead of succeeding, on being resented instead of helping a child find their way, on giving up on a child instead of that child finding out just how resourceful she really is, on letting go out of love and respect. Not to be confused with "your mother loved you so much she let you go", but rather I have every confidence in you that you will not only succeed, but kick some serious ass in this world, you just need to get out there and do it.

I also felt in those quiet moments on the phone, a new found respect for women who surrendered their children. This is cutting so deep on this mother, that she feels emotions very similar to those of us who never knew how our children were doing. I heard the unasked questions, "is this what your life was like?" "how did you live through this?" We didn't address those issues because this conversation was not about me. But the lines of similarity were there, and it was killing me to relive them again through her.

I will continue to express that the focus should not be abandonment or betrayal, but a normal aspect of life, and hope something hits a cord, that something brings my words into focus. I do fear it coming at the expense of my relationship with this woman. That would be devastating, because she means so very much to me. She is in every sense of the word, like a daughter.

If Only You Were Here

2009-05-24T04:33:00.000-07:00

I called Rachael a few days ago and told her I was filing my formal complaint with her. I told her not to take it offensively, but I needed to say it. GOD, "if only you were here", closer to me. I could really use your help. I have so many things to do, I am almost overwhelmed, to which she responded, I feel the same way.

My one son is graduating this year. Trying to get him to pick a college was like pulling teeth. He waited until the very last minute because he had two that were very appealing to him and he wanted both rolled into one. I have to admit, I found great humor in watching him struggle with this. Not that I'm trying to be mean, or am laughing at him in a hateful way, but more watching him make his very OWN first grown up decision. It was humorous and painful all at the same time. We argued, I pushed for a decision, he got frustrated, walked away, came back, tried to ignore it, and in the end chose to not move 4,000 miles away. His decision made me happy and sad at the same time, because either would have been an excellent choice and life experience. Now that he has chosen a college, it has been my responsibility to get him in. Due to him being in school all day and being part of the track team, there is no time for him to do most of these things himself. I am almost overwhelmed by all the paperwork. Add to that a graduation party and all the other stuff that needs to be done before he leaves, and I have enough on my plate to occupy my entire day.

My other son has been taking modeling classes, and is slotted for a rather large audition. Who knew this was going to go so far. I thought 6 months of classes and it would be over. NOT!!
We go down state every other weekend for grooming, so he will do well in his big competition. Since we don't have the extra cash for his plane ticket, hotel room, and everything in between, I have been fund raising during the day to try and come up with some of this cash. Add to that a new grand child on the way, and I chauffeur the newly expectant mother to and from doctor appointment, (not complaining) and my plate is pretty full.

Hubby had hernia surgery, needed a month off work with no pay, we have another kid living with us who is absolutely great, but also has needs that his own family will not help with, and all the little things like the lawn mower doesn't work this year, ( somehow that is my responsibility) all the vehicles need repair, (again up to me to make arrangements not only to get them fixed, but find the money to pay for it and still keep up with the bills) the yard and the house are in desperate need of attention, you get the picture.

All three boys are in track and our school won regional, this means extra meets in far away places. That translates into money for food times 3. They went to team state competitions yesterday, and will be going to individual state competition this next weekend, money times 3 again.

My business has all but defunked due to the lack of time I have to put into it, and the fact that the economy has most people buying less than their necessities. I am one person. I do the way more work than if I had a job.

So I called my daughter, who's life is eerily parallel to mine, she has the same things going on but on a younger scale. None of hers are off to college this year, but she has more of them.

We have talked about moving closer to one another, but neither of us will move. I'm not taking my son out of the school he has spent his entire life in, and his brother got to graduate from. I'm not moving back downstate where the crime rate is ten fold of what I have here. I'm not leaving without my husband who has a daughter in the next town, and I don't want to give up what I struggled so hard to set up for my family, which is residence in a small town. I moved here for peace of mind.

It's not that she lives in the big city, far from it, but it's still not like here. I know she would love it if she ever got the chance. Which brings me to why I am posting about it. Although I would love nothing more than to be near my daughter, see her face every day for the rest of my life, I have to admire her reasons for not coming. She will not leave her parents. I have to admit there is a big ouch for me in that statement, but it's not because she sees them as her parents. That's the part that gives me pride. I can't argue with that.

They have 20 years on me age wise and they need her to be close, especially now. I watch my own mother, who is almost the same age, and I am very thankful that my brother lives blocks away.

My daughters life is every bit as full as mine. If she moved closer with everything she has on her plate, how much time would we really have together?

I honestly believe we would be able to orchestrate a coexistence, but in order to do that our lives would be so intertwined that it would be blended into one. We would have to split the daily tasks of shopping, bill paying, appointments, down the middle each taking an end of town and getting it done. We would be able to attend those school functions and sporting events of each others children that each misses out on by not being closer. I could even help with her parents.

It will never happen. Her parents would never think of moving, their whole life has existed right where they are. Besides why would they even consider moving so that Rachael could be closer to me? Makes no sense. She would be too far away from her sister, who at the moment doesn't need anything, but might some day. Her husbands kids would be too far away from their mother, they would lose all their friends and have to start over in a new school system. My remaining kids will be grown and gone in two years time and I will be patiently awaiting my step daughters 18th birthday so I can get the heck on with my life. It just doesn't make sense.

As sad as this makes me, to know there will never be a way that we can live closer to one another, I have to accept that it is in fact our reality. We won't live closer to one another, not unless something ridiculous happens, and the thoughts that run through my head on that one are just plain scary. We never will have more time together, she won't get to see her brother run track unless he runs in college and he isn't planning on doing that. She might get to see her other brother if we can schedule a weekend, but most track meets are during the week. Besides, she just got called back to work, and if she goes on second shift, the time we do have together via telephone comes to an end too. They say nothing is impossible, but the possibility of us being closer geographically is looking as close to impossible as anything might.

So we both sigh, talk of what it might be like "if only you were here", and accept the fact that it just plain isn't possible. We haven't gotten to a point yet (and I hope we never do) that more is demanded of one another. We both would love more, but we both respect each others reasons for not being able to give more. This is our life, this is all there is, and we accept it.

Outide looking in....

2009-05-22T05:07:00.000-07:00

Over time our reunion has taken some real turns. At first Lori and I treated each other with kid gloves, we were both cautious and leery of the other. My feelings are that this stemmed from the crap choices we both made in younger years. Neither of us seem to have much common sense when it came to the people we brought into our lives. We both had checkered pasts with people that had broken our hearts. Not just in romantic relations either, friends and family alos dug their claws into us and each of them left an invisible scar.
So when the time came for us to have our time-we both viewed the other as a threat. "what dose she want?", "what did she mean by THAT?", "is she setting me up for something?", "whats her REAL reason for wanting to be with me?"

the questions were unending, the uneasiness was evident and to be honest-it was diffcult for both of us to view the other for what they truly were-family.
It was slow and tedious for the first few years...yes I said years. When I say both of us were leery, I'm not exaggerating. Self perservation was very high in both of us.
But we both wanted it so bad. We were both willing to take what came and walk away broken, beaten and half dead. We are like that. When we commit-it's a fight to the death, we both had proven that by our past track record in relationships. We don't give in without a fight and we don't back down until the last minute.
Funny how we were doing the same thing in the same way and had never encountered someone else like this before. I was just like her, she was just like me. We were either going to make this the most glorious things in our lives or we were going to kill each other. And with the two of us-it truly was a coin toss on what direction it would go.
But as you can see-we made it.

Now last night we had a conversation. It really gnawed at my mind and I find myself struggling greatly with it. I have never had interest in Lori's family. In my mind, they are there, but meh, whatever. If I never met her brother or mother I would have been fine. And if I never ever meet her other brother, I will sleep just fine at night. OH WELL, he is nothing to me. I do search the pictures, looking for that glimpse of myself in those strange faces. It's not there. I don't share resemblance to them. Just Lori. But they honestly mean nothing to me. As long as I have Lori and my brothers, the others can take a hike.

BUT.......

Jim's family makes me crazy. I find myself daydreaming of their acceptance. I search the few faces I have seen online desperate to see myself. Not like Lori's family pics, that is curiosity, with Jim's family it's more like desperation. WHY??? Why do I feel that? Is it due to the deeply passionate but oddly distant relationship of Jim and myself? Is it because he so truly believed I would be accepted and told me over and over about how it was going to be so wonderful-and it's not? Disappointment? That whole 'wanting what you can't have' thing kicking in?

I don't know-but I hate it. I am not one to beg for love. If a boyfriend cheated on me I didn't slit their tires or bash their windows-I walked away. Screw 'em, don't need 'em. If a friend betrayed me I didn't drag them through the mud or spill any dirty tidbit I knew-I let them sit alone in their own mess. Oh well, hope they are happy, see 'ya.
But the entire mass of people (yes I mean mass, it's a huge family) want nothing to do with me and it eats at my brain like a cancer. I have met one aunt, her husband, my father and their mother (my g-ma) THATS IT. I don't think I ever meet the others. Jim continues with his dilusions that we are going to have family trips, spend time together, just get to know each other. But I am convinced he is making an effort to smooth over the huge build up he gave me from day one. He believed in his heart that his long lost, unknown daughter was going to swoop in and take her place in the family. He was happy to find me and he expected them to welcome me with open arms and all would be like a fairy tale. And they didn't. They literally want nothing to do with me. Not even to satisify curosity. I am nothing to them, will never be anything and I am certainly not worth the time to meet, even once.

Normally I would shrug and just move on. But this makes me ache. To add insult to injury, I compeltely question my value in Jim's life. At first when we spoke you could hear the excitement in his voice. Even if we talked about basically nothing-he was overjoyed to just hear me on the other end. But not any more. Now it's pleasant, he tells me how much he misses me, but I can't feel it any more. I understand that like all relationships things settle, I don't expect backflips just because I picked up the phone, but maybe, just once in a while HE could call ME. He could spend more than 10 minutes on the phone with me. He could say something other than "what do you need? is things ok? is something wrong?"
No...nothing is wrong I tell him, I just miss you. Now he works obscene hours. I would not be surprised if he literally worked 18-20 hours of the day. He completely comsumes he world with work, and there is simply no time for me. Maybe I am diluting myself. Maybe his curosity is curbed and so he is ready to drop it. Not that he doesn't love me, I know for a fact that he does. But more along the lines of he can not, will not make room for me in his life. And neither will his family. At least he had the decency to meet me and form an opinion of me before he cast me aside. They would not even be bothered by that. Out of sight-out of mind.

I hate, hate, hate that not one of them will give me even one iota of a chance. The one aunt I have met is gracious, she has befriended me online but I wonder if it is because she wants me around of if its more like she wants to keep tabs on me and streamline my contact. Her husband, well, he thinks I'm the greatest, but I don't dare initiate further solo contact with him. I did not come to them to cause civil unrest among them, I just wanted to know them. I can not and will not put him against their firing squad for my own piece of mind. He has to live every day with them, I do not.

I just don't know how to cope with the lack of caring in this reunion. Lori and I were leery but willing to go down in flames to make it work. We are fighters and we take care of your own, I really had no right to assume that it would be the same on Jim's side, but I guess I did. He told me it was going to be great, aunt told me that, grandma told me that and aunts hubby told me that. And I believed them. I should have kept myself on guard and stuck to my game plan, but I let them in and now I am paying the price. In the grand scheme of things with reunion I have been very lucky. There are some that have been in far worse positions that me and they survived. I just want to find a way to give up on it and walk away, let it be, without feeling the sting for the next 36 years.

Ahhhh....adoption. An emotional mind rape of a lifetime.

The Blame Game

2009-05-18T08:00:00.000-07:00

In reading and communicating with several adoptee's, it seems that for some totally surprising reason, I am more accepted as a first mother than I ever thought possible. I root for the underdog, because I am an underdog most of the time. One of the little people who gets stuck on the bottom of some unknown shoe, size 900EEEE in the grand scheme of life and government.
But for some reason I am accepted in this small yet growing circle of never seen friends.

It's no secret that I chose adoption for my daughter 36 years ago. If you are unfamiliar with why I chose, you will have to go through old posts here to find out. I don't have the strength or the time to write it out again.

I have had my share of strangers judge me on my deed and not my reasoning for so long that I have accepted who I am in their eyes. I don't agree with their opinions of me or how they came about forming them, but I have accepted it none the less. They know less than half the story and it is not my responsibility to share every detail of my life with them in an attempt to gain recognition or acceptance. You don't like me, okay move on, next......

So to find that the very thing that got me my label as "one of those women" is now a source of recognition and respect, is quite surprising to me. You see, the envy I have felt toward the women who were indeed completely coerced into surrendering their children was overwhelming at times. I so wanted to be able to say that this had happened to me. I wanted it to be someone else's fault. I didn't want to be responsible for my daughter ending up being an adoptee. But I was responsible. It was my idea, stupid as it was, no one put those thoughts in my head but me.

Oh to be able to say I was duped by the system, I was taken advantage of, I didn't know any better. Which was half true, I didn't know any better, but I still didn't have to make that choice. I chose to send my daughter away to live with strangers, and it sucks. I have never found anything but sorrow in my decision.

So for me to find faceless friends who seem to think its respect worthy that I own up to being the boob who suggested my daughter become a statistic, is puzzling to say the least. I wanted to be like everybody else. I wanted to be duped and blameless. I wanted the same story as others who had no choice. Why did I have to be the only one who chose this?

But this is what I have learned, my daughter was the one who had no choice, I did, and I made my choice based on my reasons that I still to this day feel were sound reasons. Since I made that choice of my own free will, and admit to it, I have gone from "one of those women" to a woman of substance, but only in certain circles. I'm still a crack whore to some and always will be.

Without letting it go to my head, I have to admit it feels good to have the respect of a handful of people who understand first hand. Most of the opinions made about me in the past came from people who's only link to adoption WAS their opinion. So to say I am honored might be a bit much, but the opinions of a handful of people I have never met, have excommunicated a lot of the negative portrayals of me (at least in my own head) and given me a new look at my self. Maybe even a bit more back bone. Who knew that telling the truth, no matter how much I wished it wasn't the truth, being the one who didn't have, no matter how much she wished she did, anyone to blame but herself, would end up winning me respect in the end.

You know those stupid emails that say pass it along and something really cook will happen to you by....? Yeah, this is way cool.

Preparing for Reunion

2009-05-15T12:27:00.000-07:00

Recently on a popular board that my daughter and I frequent, there was a comment made about surrendering mothers that sparked a private conversation between myself and another surrendering mother. It started off simple enough, she felt the sting of bad jokes made at our expense. I understood that feeling, I myself felt like she did for many years. Somewhere along the line I just got tired. I got tired of feeling bad on command. Some one would take a shot at me for surrendering my daughter and I would immediately feel bad, just like they wanted me to. I would love to say I don't know how it happened or when but that would be a lie. I know exactly how it happened and when. Like Pinocchio I got rid of my strings.

One day as my older brother, (I'm being covert here, I have two older brothers and in case you know me, you still don't know which brother it is) and I got into a heated discussion about how screwed up I really am, because I wasn't acting the way he wanted me to, I wasn't giving in the way I usually do, and he once again threw in my face that I needed a fucking psychiatrist. Before he could finish that sentence I had spun around and for the first time in my life I screamed in his face (spit included) "How did I get that way". It was the last conversation I remember having with my brother. So I know how. I remember almost every detail of the day I set myself free from other peoples power.

So this woman who is offended is trying to get recognition for her feelings and as much as I sympathized with her, I'm not there anymore. I don't let those comments bother me any more. Do they sting? A little, but not enough to ruin my day, not enough to make me want revenge, or even an apology. Besides the context of the comment was said in a group that I knew didn't include me, and probably not her either. It was an in general statement said in fun, bad taste maybe but hey, I'm just as guilty at times. Bad jokes and dark humor are the only things that get me through some times.

So this conversation goes on and starts to take a different twist. We went from bad joke, to being grouped together, to being re-abused by our children, to preparing for reunion. Well the grouped together stuff didn't get much attention from me either. People are going to group other people together from now till eternity. It's just the way we're wired. Blacks, whites, Asians. Christians, gays, "you people", hell I'm a crack whore at 53 because the current stereotype for surrendering mothers is skinny as hell (I wish) and all methed out. CRACK WASN'T EVEN INVENTED when I was pregnant, but that's okay, I'm a crack-whore.

The abuse part got a lot of attention from me but it wasn't what she was looking for, obviously. She wants to be prepared, she wants the details from other peoples experiences as to how they handled their situations to store in the back of her brain as reserve in case it happens to her. I don't understand this at all. My mind reels with questions, "how are you going to know that its abuse and not just reunion garbage that needs to be gotten out and dealt with then put to rest"? We talked about drawing a line in the sand. My question was " How can you draw your line of enough based on other peoples experiences"? "How are you going to know when you have had enough based on the stories of others"? "Why are you so sure this is going to happen"? The concept of boundaries is all fine and well, but why run imaginary scenarios through your head like war strategies?

So when we get to the part about preparing for reunion, I envision two people standing facing each other. Each has a handbook, maybe labeled reunion for dummies or something. A sentence is said by one person, then the other person flips through their hand book for an appropriate response, that person responds and it's now the first persons turn to flip through their handbook and see what it is they are supposed to say in return to the comment made by the other person. This to me is where reunion has been taken too far. Without posting exactly what this other mother said, I will say that if you feel the need to study for this, you're going to fail.

There are books,TONS of books, there are web sites, hang outs, blogs, forums, places you can go and discuss reunion, adoption, what it feels like, what it "was" like for someone else, but in the end no two reunions are alike. Having resources stored in your head isn't going to do you any good because they were someone else's experiences. Besides, as I tried to point out to her, in my oh so eloquent manner, it takes up valuable space.

I understand not being able to shut this shit off, I lived it for 28 years. I drank to make it go away, (smooth move on my part, I ended up with a drinking problem) that's what bothers me about this whole conversation. Instead of working on herself, instead of forgiving herself, and understanding that on her child's part there is simply more wait time required, HE'S NOT READY, she wants to continue to beat herself up, hold herself down, and read other peoples reunion stories, in order to prepare for her own.

If you want to know how this "might" pan out for you, it cost me many relationships, a few weeks in the hospital, a lot of money, therapy, jobs and friends, and I didn't even do the strategy thing. Sound like something you aspire to? keep it up, you'll get there.

My daughter and I read NONE of the books on the market about adoption, self discovery, reunion, or the effects of secrets and lies. Mostly because neither of us knew they existed. We talked to each other. We got to know each other slowly, we creeped into one an other's lives. It took time, it took understanding, it took not getting offended, or angry. It took having little to no expectations, and a lot of patience. It took doing it anyway even though we were both afraid. That's what worked for us. I'm not saying its the golden rule of reunion, I'm saying it took US, working at it, taking it in little chunks, quiting when it gets too overwhelming, picking back up when we both felt like we could do it again. But the main ingredient was US. Not some book, not someone else's memoirs, not a guide based on past reunions, just us.

"Be ready for anything" is a statement used in regard to reunion. It means you may be rejected again, it may not be how you expected it to go, you may be over whelmed with emotion, you may even feel like vomiting. It doesn't mean, study hard, have all the answers, be mentally prepared for any question. Reading is fine, talking to others and listening to their stories is okay, but trying to prepare for reunion based on others experiences, having your response to anything that may come up ready and waiting to be used is setting yourself up for failure. This isn't a battle ground, or a game show.

Reunion is fragile yet liberating. It requires honesty, respect and lots of space.
I'd hate to see anyone lose out in reunion because they didn't have the sense to be themselves, to give of themselves, and to allow the other person the space they need to make it work.

So in conclusion of this conversation. I wrote a short piece about how I'm not trying to disrespect her feelings, but instead trying to point out that she can reach a point of self respect that affords her the room to let a few bad jokes pass without taking them straight to heart and ruining her day. This was after she said that maybe that particular forum was not for her, that maybe it was time for her to move on. All I can think is that she wants to surround herself with people who feel the same pain, even though she strategizes against it. I probably shouldn't have but I told her that there is no way in hell I would base my reunion on incerpts from books, or let people who have spit on me my whole life stop me from having a relationship with my daughter just because they don't think I deserve one, and I reserve the right to draw my own line in the sand. I'll decide what is enough. Its been two days and there has been no response to the message I left.

No two reunions are a like, I hope she realizes that and finds what works for her.

Would a Committment Make a Difference?

2009-05-02T06:03:00.000-07:00

For those who have not been following, Rachael and I have had several discussions lately about reunion, what makes some successful and what sabotages others. Most people know that we belong to a forum that allows opened discussion. Rachael posted a question about trying to regain that family bond early in reunion as opposed to starting off at ground zero as friends. Again most know that Rachael and I have chosen the friends path. I am her mother but not her mom. Our thoughts on that can be read in other posts on our blog. Come to think of it maybe I should use that as a topic and let it have its own paragraph or two. Something to ponder. Pffft, maybe I already have.

In reading some old emails I came across something that I thought might be helpful to others in reunion. It is something that Rachael had to do for me to get me to stop being so afraid of reunion.

Yes I was afraid of reunion. I wanted it more than anything, I was willing to do almost anything for it, yet I was afraid of rejection after she soothed her curiosity about who her first mother was. I wasn't sure I could handle that so I held myself in reserve.

To keep other comments I have made still in clear view, I feel it necessary to address some of the things I have said in the past that may give the impression I'm back peddling, but try to understand that reunion and surrender is emotion filled and extremes are not uncommon.

I have stated in the past that I was willing to let my daughter beat the crap out of me if she felt it was necessary upon reunion. I was willing to accept that in exchange for even a glimpse of her. I have also stated that after a few years in reunion that if I was to continue to be her personal punching bag, to be used when ever she felt it necessary to feel better about the issues she was left with because of my decision to surrender her, that I would probably walk away myself. I have had a long hard road accepting my decision, and no one could beat me up more than I could myself, and I took full advantage of punishing myself over my decision. Although very different extremes, I still mean what I said. I was willing to let her physically hurt me, but not for the rest of my life.

So this brings me to what I read in an old email. That she was in it for the long haul.

I was afraid of losing her again and I had grown so attached that I held parts of me back. She knew it, she could see it, she could tell that I struggled with responses at times because I was afraid of what she might think if I were to just be myself. After a few short weeks, (JOKING, it took years,) of her telling me that she was in it for the long haul, I started to believe it. I gave my true responses to questions, opinions, situations and tried to have faith that she would really accept me for who I am. Not only is she still around, but she actually likes me most of the time. I find it hard to believe than anyone could like me all of the time, but that's human nature. We have found that we have the same slightly ummm, okay we have the same "really" twisted sense of humor. And we are both very devoted to one another, fiercely at times, which is both scary and really cool.

So to get to my point, (oh yeah we're both fairly looong winded too) we would like nothing more than to find things that would help people in reunion. Every reunion is different, but Rachael and I are trying to find any thread of similarities that may help. She has already posted about a few and will continue to do so as they come up. By no means are we trying to state that if you "do this", you will have a successful reunion, but if we can find even one thing that could make the difference between successful and unsuccessful it would be worth it.

Do you think that telling the other person that you are in it for the long haul would put your mind at ease? Would it take away even a little of the fear of being rejected again as an adoptee or being rejected after soothed curiosity as a first parent? I honestly believe it helped me to forgive myself. If she could forgive me, accept me, and stay for the long haul, if she could give me that commitment, and that's what it is, a commitment, then I had no excuse to not forgive myself, begin to heal, and commit to my daughter for the time we had left.

Unraveling reunion-Age

2009-04-29T04:00:00.000-07:00

How old is old enough? So many seem to jump into a reunion when they are young, 18 or so. I took longer. I was 28 when I found Lori. At 18 I had a baby of my own and I was focused on her not my personal things. I wanted to do what I could for my daughter. After some half hearted attempts I finally found put forth serious effort to find her. I felt in a much better emotional state of mind and believed I could handle it. Lucky for me, it worked.

So my question is...is there such a thing as too young for reunion? I fully back giving adoptees their info at adulthood, it is ours and we should have it. But emotionally are 18 year olds ready for such a life changing event? So much is new to them, responsibilities and expectations that have never rested on their shoulders in the past. Then adding a reunion, sometimes it can be simply too much.
I truly feel that if a reunion takes place at 18 and fails, then it should be tried again later. So much changes through our 20s, life forks in so many ways, its no surprise so many falter and fizzle out. Maturity comes from experience and at 18, you have limited experience. I don't care how you were raised, events you have faced, you are still limited in the ins and outs of the real world.

Speaking from my personal experience, I am almost fully convinced if I had reunited when I was 18-Lori and I would not have a relationship now. I can't speak for her, but I was not mature enough to tackle any of that. NO way...

So that brings us to an impass, do you or don't you?

Even though I willingly admit I would not have been able to properly cope with reunion at a young age, I also only have one huge regret in my life. One thing that if given the chance I would change. That is waiting to find Lori and Jim. Missing those years I could have had with them. It makes me so sad to look back and see that I could have had them sooner.
So...damned if you do damned if you don't....or something along that line.

I dont have the answers on what is the proper age, the safe age, the average age that reunion should take place. But I can say that if a reunion does not go well the first time around and years pass, then maybe a second chance should be given. So much can happen in a just a few short years. A life can change dramatically. If you don't succeed the first time around, don't compeletely turn write it off forever. I'm not condoning beating the dead horse, it can be exhausting to keep trying and put yourself out there time and time again. You do have to know when to walk away, for your own sanity. But people change. Events alter views and sometimes time can give a new perspective on things, or help heal some open wounds.

I wish I could be 100% comfortable with telling people to jump on the reunion train at 18. But I'm not. What I am comfortable saying is at 18, be very honest with yourself and prepare for any outcome. And don't lose hope, if at first you dont succeed, try again. LATER. Don't write it off as done forever. I know I am not the same person I was 15 years ago and neither is anyone else.

Next post to come in a few days. Until then, chime in, let's hear your views.

Unraveling reunion

2009-04-25T09:45:00.001-07:00

Lori and I have been having lots of discussions on the differences in reunion. Some are so wonderous like ours. We fell into one anothers lives and could not imagine life without one another. Some are disasters. The family involved meet and realize that they wish they had never laid eyes on one another. And some fall in that middle ground, where they have a relationship, but it is not one they feel comfortable or confident in.

What makes up success, disaster or indifference in a reunion? Why are some boarderline perfect and others are straight out if a twisted best sellers list?
Are there key elements involved? Is there truly a formula for success or failure? Is there a script we can follow to increase our chances of getting the most out of our reunion? Is there a way to prepare for utter rejection?
So many questions, so many scenerios, so many lives and hearts affected by events that happened years and years ago.

Its haunting to hear the 'bad' reunion stories. Child spends so much time, energy and sometimes money to seek out the parent that could not raise them. They put their hearts on the line and take that leap of faith that they will be accepted and welcomed. Or, a parent reaches out to the absent child that they turned over to another to raise. Facing the demons that have followed them all this time. Not knowing if that said child would hate them, resent them, welcome them, love them or reject them.
But when the reunion goes well, when a parent and child come together over time, distance and effort, and they can make it work....well, then it's a fairy tale in the making. All the feelings and hurt are put aside and they are able to move forward and begin a life together. If it really goes well, biological and adoptive families can come to a middle ground and become one extend family. A branch of one another. Like Cinderella finding out Sleeping Beauty was her long lost sister and they reign the kingdom together. It's magical.

Society as a whole loves the happy ending. All is well that ends well, off into the sunset they ride. But they remember and retain the horror stories. They base their opinions on those stories. In turn, bio parents are made to be evil, drug laden dirtballs, adoptive parents are made to be saints that rival Ward and June Cleaver and adoptees are expected to be grateful, silent lambs. Our halos are to shine like the Northern Lights for all to see and bask in the beauty of. If we, as adoptees do not live up to this mirage then we are shunned for being ungrateful, heartless or even down right evil. If we act as normal non adopted children, the illusion is shattered.
If we seek out our roots, they feel we are being unfaithful to our adoptive families, that we have turned out backs on them for the love of a woman or man that 'gave us away'. Nothing can be further than the truth. Adoptees searching for their roots has nothing to do with the adoptive parents. I needed to see that I fit in somewhere, that my personality was not some freak of nature. I knew my soul mate was out there somewhere, that she longed for me like I longed for her. That she needed me, like I needed her. It was never a question of IF I would find her, it was a question of when.
You can ask Lori yourself, I am as faithful and commited to my aparents as they come. I love them with a passion that any child could have for their Mom and Dad. She is my mother, but she can not be my Mom. That is something I can't do. Not that she is any less in my mind, just that my parents have done right by me and her, Mom is a title I hold sacred.

I plan to add to this post over the next few weeks. I want to put out there some things that I feel might or might not affect the outcome to reunions and possibly adoption in general. I welcome input, share your views, brainstorm with us, respectfully disagree. It's the only way we will ever make any progress. I want to touch on age, reversion to earlier development stages and being in the fog, just to name a few things.

This is a huge undertaking filled with raw emotion, but I truly feel it needs to be done. I believe we can change things. I believe others can have peace and acceptance and I believe it will take more than myself to do it. Any that are reading these words, I invite, no I implore you to return soon. Help us take apart this diluted industry of adoption and rebuild it the way it was intended.

Friends of the "family"

2009-03-22T13:48:00.000-07:00

It has been quite some time since Lori and I have been able to contribute. Life has been rather hectic and finding the extra time to just sit and post is a diffcult task at time.
But...I made a discovery last night, one that really kicked me in the teeth. And I had to share.

I have a former friend, it ended very badly several years ago. I won't name names, it's just not importent. But we both are members of a public forum. I have taken great pains to avoid having mutual friends for fear of putting them in the middle of somthing nasty. Last night as I was poking around it popped up that we had 4 mutual friends. My curosity got the better of me and I peeked in her profile to see who it was we both had added.
That's when a name did everything short of reach out and kick me in the teeth. She had a friend on her list that shared the last name of my biological father. Now it is'nt odd, it's a reasonably common name. A feeling of uneasiness came over me though. I just had to find out if this was some relation of mine.
So I backtracked teh best I could and found the name of her husband and made a call to a friend that has resources. We came to the conclusion that we are about 98% sure this IS a cousin of mine. Same last name, same hometown and bringing up names of other relatives that I know for sure are connected to me.
My heart sank, my head pounded and I had a knot in my stomach. How could this be happening?

If or when I do get the opportunity to meet the rest of my biological family, she is going to have the capasity to destroy my chances to have a relationship with them. Being the outsider, I will have no defense against her attacks, I know if I were in the same boat I would believe any stories that my long term friend told me over some woman that basically fell from the sky claiming to be family.
I know some of you reading this and thinking I am over-reacting. Maybe you are right, but I KNOW this woman. I know what she is capable and WILLING to do. Our relationship severed on a very sour note. I have no idea how she felt-but I was devastated. Twenty years I spent at her side, believing in her and supporting her. Only to find out in the end...I was a naive fool. It ruined my faith in people for quite some time. And now, I am facing it ruining my future relationship with my biological family.

I guess I need to come to terms that being a part of their world is just not possible. That for all of my eternity I will be on the outside looking in. I guess it's a good thing I have thick skin to protect me from the cold, or else I might not be able to handle this last blow to my ego.

Public Display of Affection

2009-02-19T14:55:00.000-08:00

Although it seems like a million years ago now, I have something that might give you a taste of what it was like to be me, pregnant at the age of 16. I pulled this question off of yahoo answers just a minute ago. I have to admit that there are a lot of people who no longer feel this way toward first mothers, but that has come from the sweat of some very brave peoples backs. It is not easy standing in front of a crowd with this mentality and trying to get them to humanize the producer of their most precious commodity, their child.

I feel that this is a direct result of industry language. You know, what adoption workers use to make adoptive parents feel superior. But they can not be held unaccountable. They are responsible for their actions just as I was held accountable for mine.

My disclaimer: To those of you who have adopted and realized that your child had another set of parents before you and that those parents should be treated with as much respect as any other parent, I applaud you, and this post most certainly does not apply to you.

Here it is. It's short, but depicts exactly what it is meant to, hatred.

Enjoy

Open Question
Why do you think peeps think that all bm's are victims?
on here all birth peeps have an excuse am i the only one that sees

Nope, I'm with you man. I am sick and tired of their martyr syndrome. Keep your kids and raise them like the rest of us do, they don't deserve to play the victim role for ducking out of their responsibilities. Then they say the are looked down upon by society....WELL DUH...how precisely do you expect to be treated?Don't get me started with this crap!By the way...bm also stands for bowel movement, ya know like sh!t...sounds like a pretty good representation to me.Natural mother??? What is natural about birthing a child and abandoning it?
Source(s):
Birthmother HATER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hard learned lessons

2009-01-11T21:57:00.000-08:00

If you have read previous posts here, you know it has been an eventful time for us. So many walls were torn down, mysteries solved and demons faced and conquered. I truly believed that our family, all of them, adopted and biological, were on the tail end of a long adoption journey. We had went from strangers to family. It took a long time, but once the ball started rolling, it rolled at warp speed.

I had a phone conversation with my parents the other night. Mom called just for the reason to tell me how much she and Dad enjoyed meeting Lori and my brothers. She thanked me for allowing them to be a part of it all. But mostly to express how relieved and happy they were that this finally took happened. I was on cloud nine, she spoke of future visits, including meeting my biological father Jim.

Overjoyed with how positive this experience was for all of us, I called my sister. I wanted to share with her what Mom had said and catch up with her. She had her final surgery connected with her cancer and was on the mend.
The talk was filled with memories of our childhood, my issues as a teen, my new found peace with just being me and the huge impact 2008 had on all of us.

As we wandered down memory lane, sister said something to me that struck me like a sharp blow to the head. She said we should be 'grateful' for our life. Any adoptee knows what this word evokes. Not that I am NOT grateful, trust me I am. I had a great life, Mom and Dad gave us more as kids than most will see their whole life. I took this opportunity and new found open door policy that we seem to have utilized and stopped her. I told her I was grateful...but no more than she was. I think I lost her for a few moments, but I wanted her to understand, I needed her to understand.
I began to tell her how I had heard these words my whole life. Perfect strangers telling me I 'should be' grateful. Grown adults looking at me with expectant eyes informing me how 'lucky' I was for not being aborted. I left it at those few things. I could hear in her voice that she did not like the idea of someone saying such things. She really seemed to understand that-yes I should be grateful, just as much as she was. Not for my adoption, just for having good, solid parents that loved us. Both of us, equally and individually.

This opened the conversation to things that I don't think she was prepared for. But like I said, I needed her to know. I could not let her continue through life thinking our adoption story was the way all adoption stories were. Because its not the norm, I am an rarity in the adoption world.
I preached on and on about abusive adoptive parents, rejection by both adopted and biological parents, lies told by agencies and just some really horror stories of people I have come into contact with over the years.

She was appalled. She was shocked. She was hurting for those whom did not escape as easily as I did. She was sickened by the processes and procedures that were practiced in the real world, right under our noses, not just some foreign place a million miles away.
She quietly asked me why they always thought Lori was a 12-13 year old runaway with a serious drug habit. I told her why we thought that....MOM AND DAD WERE TOLD THAT. The agency lied to them. They lied to Lori. And we were not the only ones. It had been going on for years, decades.

Overall, our adoption was tame. The lies were minimal and it all worked out in the end. But others.....oh the others that live every day with the pain.

Sister was intrigued by the stories that poured out of my mouth. I gave her this blog. I have never told her before that Lori and I had this. This was ours and only ours. But she should know. I gave her the website address to the site Lori and I are members of. It is commited to adoptees and anyone involved in the 'triad'.
I want her to see. I want her to know and understand.
I told her about the protest coming up this year in Philly and about last years protest in New Orleans. She was interested. She feels this is something we should fight for.

I think she gets it, more than she did before. The puzzle pieces just keep dropping.

My family is making more of an effort to see what I came from and what I experienced. They are more open than ever to hearing the stories and they are receptive to what adoptees are doing to change things. I feel its finally sinking in that I am not out to replace them, I am just out to find out where I came from and who I am. No one will ever replace them in my life. But there is room for everyone, and they can see that now.

I will talk more to sister another day. She is extremely intelligent and respected. Maybe if she learns more, she will pass along her knowledge to someone else. Then maybe they will pass that along. Its a small thing, but a start.

And it doesn't end there

2009-01-11T08:33:00.000-08:00

Amidst all the meetings, greetings, how have you been's, something else happened. Something that had been said in the past but I thought was out of sheer politeness.

When we were in the bar waiting for Jim to show up, Greg, Jim's sister's husband, who's house we invaded when Rach met Jim, his mother and one of his sisters for the first time, grabbed my arm and told me that I was being silly. I told him I was trying to put some space between myself and Rach's reunion. He insisted that I was already told that no matter what, I was now family and so were my boys. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I went from little to no contact with my own family, to trying to invision a get together that would include Jim, (who I adore) his tribe, (because there are a lot of them) my husband, his daughter, my boys, their father, (who is one of my dearest friends) and Rach's parents, sister, and all associated with them. I have no idea if it's possible to get all those people together, but it's fun trying to imagine it. At least I have faces to play with, and it's all made possible through the "other people" in my illigitimate children's lives. "My family" may want little to do with me, but my family has grown exponentially through the other people in my childrens lives. Rachael says I have every right to thumb my nose, as it was my illigitimate children, my insistance that we would meet again, and my relationships with their fathers, that set me apart from those who were supposed to love me unconditionally.

If it never happens it will be okay. It's enough to know that I am accepted and included.

I'm on the rouster

2009-01-11T07:06:00.000-08:00

I have needed time to process all of the things that happened during my first ever sleep over type visit with my daughter. There wasn't one piece of it that I would have traded for anything in the world. We spent our first new years together. No big gushy hugs or kisses, mostly watching the younger kids throw crap all over the house. You call it confetti, I call it a mess that needs to be cleaned. Don't get me wrong, I'm a slob. My house could be way cleaner. But the amount of confetti that was being thrown and the places it was getting into just made me shake my head. I did enjoy the fact that Rachael didn't bat an eye over it. She just let them fly and when it was over the broom came out and it was cleaned up. One of the many conveniences of hard wood floors.

The older kids came home shit faced. I thought that was pretty funny. They were only gone for 3 hours and two of them could barely walk. They did the right thing though, they called and Rach went and got them. The buckets and towels arranged strategical next to the sleeping arrangements with a wet wash cloth hung on the side was a sight to behold. Rach put her brother down on the couch and tied his long tresses back to make it easier for him to utilize the bucket. I started to get up off the couch to take over since it was my responsibility to tend my drunken son, and I immediately sat back down. I figured it was nothing less than a pleasure for her to tend her baby bro after all these years. She got his settled and I arranged the towel with the bucket and wash rag. After a good vomit there is nothing like a cool rag to either wipe the mouth or the forehead.

My grand daughter was being tended to by her boyfriend up stairs. No worries there, he is a fine young man very capable of handling my sometimes over bearing grand daughter and that in it self was a treat to see. Two down two to go.

We went into the kitchen with the remaining two who were still on their feet. the fun never stops with intoxicated teens around. I learned so much that night. My other son's aversion to the room spinning is to spin himself. So on his toes (which is natural for him, he lives on his toes) he spins like a ballerina or his mother on the dance floor in her younger and drunken years. I was very afraid he was going to land on his face. We already have one kid with a permanent bonded tooth, no need for them both to have one. When he finally wound down and got ready for the other couch where his bucket, towel and wash cloth await, he had the sense to pull his own hair back and pony tail it. Not long after being in the horizontal position, he started to utilize his bucket. Instead of leaning over the edge of the couch like his brother who couldn't move if he wanted to, this one gets off the couch, on his hands and knees and actually starts spinning in circles from the waist up around the top of the bucket. Too bad we didn't have the sense to film it as he denied it the next day. All in all it was an awesome time. Family at it's finest. Sharing and caring for one another in a way that only people who really love you will. The next day was less fun but still good entertainment. Watching a hang over is much better than feeling a hang over. At least it was for me. It took most of the day for the really wasted two to get up and moving. Poor T, hung over as he was, there was still no escaping the throws of being an uncle. He was hung on, tugged at, hair pulled, loud in your face children everywhere and it was probably killing him. D got the dogs. He went to bed with them, and spent most of the day with them as they too would not leave him alone. Too much entertainment for me. I was loving every bit of it.

The grand daughter awakes, looking like someone who was shot at and missed, shit at and hit. My heart over flows with excitement. I can't wait to watch her struggle through the day. Needless to say it was a slow moving, less than quite, aspirin filled afternoon and evening. The dead awake after 5pm.

When we got home, I had little time to reflect, there were things to do around the house, things to take care of with friends, pictures to select for an audition, and colleges to finish up applying for. As wonderful as it was, the visit with Rachael's sister, her parents, the seeing where she was for so many years and how safe she was, the finally laying eyes upon the people who took my daughter in as their own. I still felt something was missing. I actually felt guilty about it.

A week had passed and not a word about how her parents felt after the meeting. Nothing from her sister passed on through Rach about how it made her feel to sit in the same room with the mystery woman who was 13, on drugs, a run away, and clueless as to who she had slept with all those years ago, compliments of the agency we used. I don't know why I expected more, I just did. It was so monumental for me. I was hoping the feeling was the same for them, but it seemed that it was exciting at the time and now it's over. No fan fair, no big revelations, nothing. I was expecting more and trying to tell myself not to be disappointed. Maybe it was that they needed to keep their distance. Maybe I was still capable of taking something from them and they needed to keep some of their guard up. Maybe I just didn't want it to end and it had.

Then it came. Rach called me last night and had finally gotten a hold of her sister and her parents. Her parents called to thank her for "allowing them" to be a part of her reunion. There it was, the thing I had been expecting and thought wasn't going to happen. The thing I thought I was the only one feeling. It had affected them. They feel the same thing I do, a connection, a link, an answer to the mystery of why their (our) daughter thinks and acts the way she does. The inner working of what makes her tick. They saw it, and it made sense, for the first time in 36 years. Just like I saw where she resided, how farming was a big part of who she was. How could I understand that? I have no connection to farming what so ever (growing pot maybe). But in her family, farming is everything. It is the profession that makes all other professions possible. It is the pride of who they are as a whole.

Her sister told her that Rachael seems more at peace than ever before. It was visibly noticeable. Rach agreed. No more secrets, imagination putting faces to that which we had not known, trying to piece together stories without actual puzzle pieces. And best of all no more silent panic attacks. No one has to worry any more. We met face to face and no one died.

Now the evolution of phone numbers. Rach's sister talked to her parents and agreed that it is important that they have my phone number. In all actuality it makes sense. They will know long before I, if something were to happen to Rach. I know Rach's husband would let me know as soon as possible, but what if; what if something happened to both of them. Funny how that happens. Her whole life thus far has gone by with never a thought of me being on the roster of contacts, and now after one meeting my name and number are being requested. That's something I never expected or even thought about to be honest. I had once hoped that we would one day meet. I gave up. I wanted it, but felt that it would not be a realization. Now I'm on the roster.

How unbelievable awesome is that?

reflections

2009-01-04T19:19:00.001-08:00

2008 was a year like no other for me. I learned more from the last 12 months than I have in my entire 36 years.

The year started off with a blazing vengeance. I prayed the adage "in like a lion, out like a lamb" was true. My husband and I were in financial ruin, like so many other American families. Our children were going without, our house was in the process of foreclosure, the cars were set for repossession. Food was becoming more and more of a struggle to provide and to add insult to injury, our company that both of us were employed by was going through a very nasty contract with a new company that bought us. It appeared that it was going to close the doors, like so many others had.

Later in the spring my best and dearest friend lost his older sister. She was the glue of the family. His mother passed when he was a very young teen and his father followed only a couple of years later. She was the one that stepped in and filled the shoes of head of household. To see him so broken was hard on me. I had nothing but hugs and tender loving words and it just didn't feel to be enough. I held this hulking man as he sobbed on my shoulder. My heart wept with him.

Other things have happened over the early months, but they all shadow in comparison to the news my sister delivered to me over the phone one normal day. She called to tell me she was having some tests, she had found a lump during a routine mammogram. Nothing to worry about. Our mom had some similar things in the past.
I put it out of my mind, after all, my sister was a good person. She always played by the rules, no way would she be the one to be struck with such an awful disease.

It was a few days later when she called again, this time her voice was somber. She had the results, and it was cancer.
The big 'C' word. My sister. The one that took care of herself, never did drugs or drank. Ate healthy and watched her salt intake. She was sick. Her body was eating itself. I stood there in total silence, listening to her voice like it was coming through a tunnel.
"don't worry, it's gonna be FINE. I have more tests next week....." I honestly don't know what she said after that. My mind was reeling, my heart was racing, I could hear the blood whoosh in my ears.
The cancer was very aggressive and spread extremely fast. Within a month it was infecting the tissue all around. Within 2 months it had eaten into her pectoral muscle and consumed lymph nodes in the armpit area. It was eating her faster than they could work to get the surgery set up.

After surgery, chemo, radiation and one more surgery, she is cancer free. But the toll it took is still very alive and well. I cry at the drop of a hat when the conversation comes up. Not out of fear, but relief. I know how close I came to losing her.

Summer came and with it came a nasty bankruptcy that left us with nothing. I watched them take my cars away on wreckers and felt the panic set in. I read the letters stating how long I had to be out of my house and my insides turned to a whirlpool of bubbling acid. I had no idea where I would take my family. With 5 kids the places to rent were limited and the cost per month were more than we were paying on our mortgage. I had almost lost hope, but I am a swimmer. There are 2 kinds of people in the world....ones that sink and ones that swim. Thanks to my genetics, I was born to be a swimmer.
Husband and I put together a plan. We would tap out our retirement savings and see if we could capitalize on someone elses misfortune. We filed the paperwork and called a real estate agent. Surprisingly, there were several houses we looked at. We were still unsure how we would fund the payments, but we were determined to do this with a large down payment.
Then the market dipped. We lost a few hundred dollars but pushed even harder to get it all done. The paperwork was finalized and signed the day before the market actually crashed. We made it under the wire by less than 24 hours.

We thought that this was an omen, a small stroke of luck in our favor for once, until my husband lost his job.
Now the house was paid off completely with our savings. So we will always have a roof over our heads, but it was closing in on Christmas time and the task of feeding 8 (we 'picked one up' along the way) was daunting for me. One income for that many is a real struggle.

The year was coming to a close, the kids had a slim Christmas, but they were happy. Lori and my brothers came to visit a few days after the holiday and stayed for several days.
We laughed, shared mirrors, visited her family and my family....it was one event after another. All of them positive. The first meeting with my parents and Lori was a huge success. My sister thoroughly enjoyed her time telling stories of my brattiness. My sister in law also came to stay a night and I got to hug, kiss and just plain out harass my younger brothers.

On New Years Eve, we sat and watched the ball drop, ending one of the most emotional journeys of my life. My kids threw stringy paper confetti in the room until it looked like a thick blanket of snow. Everyone had it plastered in their hair and clothing. Dick Clark droned from the tv, and I sat and took it all in. I didn't parade around screaming, I didn't toast the new year in a drunken haze. I didn't feel the flutter of anticipation in my stomach.

I just took it all in. I felt a calm, serene aura come over me.

No the year itself did not go out like a lamb. It was filled with emotional roller coaster rides. It was hectic and explosive. It was riddled with anticipations and worries, first times and good times. It was loud, messy and covered in paper snow.

And I have never felt so at peace in my life.

I learned how impotent my family is. Be them blood or not is unimportant. I love them with the same fierceness. I learned that just having them there is a blessing within itself. I learned that even if people are timid on the surface, their spirit and fight can not be underestimated when dire times stares them in the eye. I learned how much I was loved.
That was a big one for me. I knew people loved me. But I never realized just how much. To see both sides of my family come together was very healing. To hear the words my biological father had to say to me solidified my place in his world. To have my brothers just reach out to me for a hug or put their arm around me just because I happen to be walking past. To know my husband is willing to open his house and heart to all my family. To see my children's faces light up when any of their grandparents enter the room. To sit on the couch with Lori and just be with her.
To see my sister and finally, after all these years be able to tell her I love her.

To not feel alone or like a visitor in my own home any more.

As I reflect back....I would not trade 2008 for the world. It gave me hope, purpose and the drive to do the things I didn't think I had the courage to do.

Met The Parent

2009-01-03T07:02:00.000-08:00

It was as nerve wracking as meeting my daughter for the first time.

After spending the day surprise visiting everyone else and meeting Rachael's sister the day before, I was ill prepared for the phone call from her mother asking when we were coming to meet them. I had not given it much thought since Rachael said that it probably wasn't going to happen this trip. I very quickly put it out of my mind.

Once confronted with the idea I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity. So I made a call home and said we would be staying one more day. I was fine until Rachael said "okay turn in the driveway here " my instant reaction was "no I'm not ready." I felt sick to my stomach. Rachael laughed a bit and said "oh well ready or not were here."

We went inside and I could feel the tension in the air, so as Rachael and her parents small talked about the cold temperatures out side, I reached over and grabbed her mothers hand. She immediately said"oh you are cold" and I responded by saying "no I just want to touch you". It broke the ice. As I reached for her fathers hand to do the same thing he instead hugged me. I immediately tuned to her mother and said I want to hug you too.

After a brief hug we moved into the living room where we were given the grand tour of the house my daughter grew up in. It is a beautiful home, with lots of room inside and out. I tried to visualize her running in the house on an ordinary day, getting ready for school functions in that spacious bathroom, hanging in the family room with the pool table and fire place, playing in the ditch that runs between the back and the side of the house. I tried to imagine the pool now long gone an her having fun with friends in the back yard.

We sat on the couch with the kids across from us on the floor looking at pictures of her relatives. There were few pics of Rachael but a few. Her sister has them. She is putting a book together for me. Her dad told us a story about the pastor who told him that he and his wife needed to have another child so her sister wouldn't be alone. Her dad's words were "well if you can find one for us to adopt I will do just that." After filling out the necessary paperwork they had no idea that nine months almost to the day, they would be getting a call stating that they had a girl available and wanted to know if her parents would like to adopt her.

How weird the puzzle pieces fit together. As we left we hugged again and her mother told me that she had wondered for a long time about me. I assured her that I had wondered too. Her eyes lit up as she said "oh I imagine you did" It was a good trip, a great time, and another piece of the puzzle put in it's place. Rachael claims to be lucky for good reason. Her parents are wonderful people, who not only accepted a child as their own but actually wondered about the mother and father of that child over the years. Something I did not expect to hear.

I am feeling pretty lucky myself today. After all the heart ache I went through, its a blessing to know that my daughter got a good home with strong parents who withstood everything she put them through. (which I apologized for upon hearing) She was and still is a strong willed person. Something they were not prepared for but handled. And I can finally put together in my minds eye a real picture of her lfe.

A long overdue visit

2009-01-02T12:30:00.000-08:00

This last week has been nothing short of amazing for me. I have been on a high like I have never felt before.
This was the week that Lori and my brothers came to visit. Our first time ever spending more than just a few hours together.

It was something I have wanted for many years, but never seemed to work out for us. Finally, the stars fell in line and she was here. I know many people never think twice about spending the night with thier mothers. It is a normal occurance. One they have done hundreds of times. But to an adoptee....its different. She has been a part of my life for years, but the visits were always brief. A few hours here and there. This time...this time it was all ours.

Every night was stayed up until at least 3am. We simply could not bring ourselves to part ways and go to sleep. We wanted the days to never end. Several nights it was well past 5am before we both gave in and slept.

As great as it was to have her, it shadowed in comparison to the events that unfolded during the week. Some of THE most phenominal things happened.

First we planned one day to head to Detroit to do some surprise visits on other family members. No one knew we were coming, it was literally a drop in and say hi trip.
The first stop was to Lori's mom. My bio grandma. She was not expecting company, she had been feeling under the weather, but was gracious and posed for the mountain of pictures I wanted. It was actually a nice visit.
After an hour or so there, we hit the road again. Next stop....the boys dad. He also was shocked to see us. He rushed to get himself around and we all headed to the local burgar joint for a quick burger. My daughter and I sat at an adjoining table, so they would have some time alone. To catch up.
It made me so happy to see them with him. It had also been a long time for them.

After aproxmately an hour with him, we hit the road again. Last stop...MY FATHER.
We went to the bar that he works at, and of course, he had left for the day. So we did bathroom breaks and were heading out the door when Lori caught a familar face at the far corner of the bar. It was Jim's brother in law. My 'uncle' Greg. We all headed over. He was confused at first, then you could see it set in. He knew me. A smile like the breaking sun settled on his face. I introduced him to his great niece. We all chuckled about that.
He gets right on the phone and calls Jim. He tells him there is a group of people looking for him at the bar. He hands the phone to me. I tell him his favorite daughter was looking for him. ((I am his only child. Its kind of an on going joke with us))
The shock in his voice was evident. "I'M ON MY WAY. BE THERE IN 15 MINUTES. DON'T MOVE!!!"
The wait seemed to take forever. Other people were picking on Greg about having a harem, or flirting. He yells back "hey, I'm talking to my NIECE leave me alone!!"
The man shot him a smirk that read..."sure, pfffttt...niece"

Finally Jim arrived. I introduced him to my brothers, then reached for my daughters hand. "and THIS....is your grand-daughter"
He froze. Pure terror came accross his face. You could almost smell it on his skin. He is a simple man. He has made his life based on him being alone. His life is his work. Now he was not only facing the daughter he hadn't known for 35 years, but he was looking in the eyes of the next generation of his family. Not a niece or nephew...A GRAND-CHILD. It was their first face to face (heck, it was only our second)
After several seconds of paralisis, he grabbed her and hugged her tight to him. Quite a moment for all of us.
He and I wandered off for just a few moments. To catch up. We walked by the man that was harassing Greg, Jim stopped and introduced me. "Mike...this is my daughter"
The man had been grinning ear to ear. He was giddy from the ribbing he had issued to Greg. He never lost his smile-but you could see the total confusion behind his eyes. His wife shook my hand and welcomed me warmly. Poor Mike though....he was speechless. I smiled as broadly as I could and said "see, when Greg said he was talking to his neice, he wasn't lying."

Poor Mike. I wonder how long it took for it to fully sink in what Jim has said.

We had a great time. He promised to visit this summer. I told him I would hold him to that promise. My parents want to meet him. I want to give them that. Its a small thing to ask in my eyes.

As we drove home the mood in the van was explosive. Everyone was on cloud nine. The music was blaring. Everyone was laughing. We couldn't stop giggling. Absolutely on an emotional high, ALL of us. Lori even celebrated with a cigar!!
We get home and hubby and the rest of the kids follow soon after. All of us were hungry, starving in fact. So we started to prepare a very very late dinner.

Then the phone rang.
I answered.
It was my amom.
She wanted us to come over the following day. So they could meet Lori and the boys.

My head was swimming. I can't say for sure that I was even making complete sentences. I stammered and stuttered over myself. Continually asking "are you SURE Mom? Are you ready for this?"
She was adament, she wanted to see them, talk to them. Lori was set to leave the following morning. But a quick phone call home...and she was staying another night. I was estastic.
I think she was petrified.

The next morning came and we scrambled to eat, shower and get around. Then it was on the path to Mom and Dad. Earlier in the week, my sister had come to meet Lori. It was a wonderful visit. They sat and talked, told some stories, were just there together. I didn't even have to start the conversation. They took to one another instantly.
When my sister got home, she had called our parents and (I think) told them she was a pleasant and NORMAL person. This gave them the courage to push for a meeting with them too.

We walked in the door and they were right there waiting for us. I made the necessary introductions, and then Lori took the lead. She simply walked up to them and took their hands. She stated very simply "I just want to touch you"
My parents hugged her. Not a formal, expected hug. A real, warm and welcoming hug. I honestly don't have the words to make any of you understand. Surreal is as close as I can come.
We moved to the couch and looked at some old pics. My dad pointed out all his brothers and sisters, same with Mom's family. Of all things....MY DAD DIDN'T SHUT UP THE WHOLE TIME. He is a very quiet man. Never speaks unless he really has something to say. And he must have had alot to say.

We left with Lori not only getting an extended hug from my Dad, but an open invite to come back. Mom was so gracious, I mouthed the words 'thank you' to her and my eyes began to well up. She shooshed me quietly and told me it was all ok. I deserved this.

Every adoptee dreams of meeting thier biological links. Siblings, parents, whomever. Even if it is a brief, fleeting moment. Everyone has it. I have had the opportunity to not only meet, but develop a solid relationship with mine. Now, I have been given the chance to incorporate my blood relatives with my regular family. It is an amazing mix of emotions. It brings together the most sacred of things for me. Family.

I am the luckiest girl on earth. I thank all my parents. Each and everyone one of them are working their hardest to bring my life together for me. There is literally not another thing I could ever ask for.

Informed decision part one

2008-12-04T11:35:00.000-08:00

In an attempt to help women make an informed decision before surrendering their children, I am posting this piece on coercion tactics used. This does not mean that I have suddenly become anti-adoption, I have however become anti-uninformed decision. Uninformed decisions hurt everyone. Anyone considering adoption should want to know that the mother was not coerced, that she did her research and made her decision based on her particular situation, and the safety and needs of her child.

Since my attempt to put together a list of blogs, articles, statistics, and links to possible useful information for women considering adoption to go to in order to make an informed decision, was deleted on Y/A, I will post it here. I was hoping for more exposure there but hey it offended someone.

I will gather more and post it later. For now here is a good start on tactics used, to manipulate a young scared mother to be. Followed by KNOW YOUR RIGHTS at the bottom. Enjoy and Inform.

Below is a list of some common practices used systemically by the adoption industry on single mothers in English-speaking nations from about 1950-onwards, as means of obtaining babies for adoption. These tactics might variously have been applied by social workers, clergy, "adoption facilitators," nurses, nuns, clergy, doctors or others with a vested interest in obtaining a baby to broker for adoption.

A. Psychological Coercion.
Purpose: To convince you that you were unfit as a mother and thus had to give your baby to people "more fit' or "more deserving." Methods used by "Adoption Professionals":You were told you that you were unfit to be a mother because you were 'unwed'. You were told that you would be inadequate as a mother. You were told that keeping your baby would be selfish. You were forced to draw up a list comparing what you could give to your baby with what adopters could give. It was stressed to you that your baby "needed a two-parent family." It was stressed to you that the needs of your baby came before your own needs and that you could not fulfill your baby's needs. The doctor who delivered your baby told you that you must sign-over your baby to him for adoption. (Did you later find out that the baby was adopted by friends of the doctor?) You were told that if you did not surrender your baby, that your baby would be put into foster care until you did sign. You are told that surrendering your baby is an expression of how much you love your baby (message: if you keep your baby then you don't love your baby). You are told that adoption is "thinking about what is best for your baby." (message: adoption is best for your baby). You are told that adoption is "putting your baby's needs first." (i.e., before your own needs. Message: your baby does not need you.)

B. Psychological Coercion.
Purpose: To convince you that you have an emotional obligation to surrender your baby.Methods used by "Adoption Professionals":You were told to think only of the joy that you'd "give to a couple who could not have children of their own." You were told that if you changed your mind, you would be disappointing a wonderful mother who was "waiting for her first baby." You were told that you could not keep your baby as your baby has been promised to someone already. You were encouraged to have the adopters pay your medical or living expenses such that you felt you "owed" them your baby. You were encouraged to meet with the adopters and after meeting them felt you could not bear to disappoint them by choosing to keep your baby You were encouraged to establish a relationship with the adopters, and then "fell in love with" with them prior to surrender. You were told by your parents that you could come home once you had "disposed of the problem" (i.e. surrendered your baby). You were encouraged to have the adopters in the labour or delivery room with you, for the birth of "their" baby, and thus you felt you could not bear to disappoint them by "changing your mind."

C. Psychological Coercion.
Purpose: To remove from you all personal support systems and make you reliant on adoption professionals for advice, counselling and emotional support. To distance you from any person who might try to provide alternatives to surrender.Methods used by "Adoption Professionals":Your family members or boyfriend were discouraged by adoption professionals from helping you.. Your family members and/or boyfriend were prohibited from seeing you. You were incarcerated by your parents in a maternity home or wage home where adoption was stressed as "the loving option" and/or "the only option." Contact with your parents, boyfriend, fiance, etc. was restricted by the agency, maternity home, or social worker(s). Your correspondence in or out of the maternity home or wage home was screened. Telephone use was restricted in the maternity home or wage home. Your boyfriend was lied to by adoption professionals that the baby was not his. You were told that your parents were coercing you by encouraging you to keep your baby, that "they only want to be grandparents." You were encouraged to distrust anyone who didn't support you surrendering your baby.

D. Psychological Coercion.
Purpose: To psychologically and physically distance you from your baby in order to increase the probability that you would surrender. To ensure that surrender of your baby was seen by you a "inevitable." Methods used by "Adoption Professionals":Your baby was taken from you at birth by either medical professionals or prospective adopters. Your access to your baby in the hospital was severely restricted by medical and/or nursing staff. You were put into a ward other than the maternity ward for recovery, a distance away from your baby. Your baby was immediately transferred without your consent to a different hospital. While still pregnant you were labelled a "birthmother," to put you into the mind-set that your only role in the life of your child was to give birth. You asked for your baby and were told "No!" You were told that you were not allowed to see your baby unless/until you signed the surrender papers. You asked for your baby and were told that it was best that you did not see your baby. You were given general anesthetic for the birth and kept under anesthetic until your baby was removed for adoption. You were given mind-altering drugs such as scopalamine by medical staff for several days after the birth in order to induce amnesia. Your signature was obtained while under the influence of mind-altering drugs administered to you by medical staff.. The drug Stilboestrol was administered to you as a lactation suppressant without your consent. You asked for your baby back and the adopters stalled until the "revocation of consent" period had expired.

E. Psychological Coercion.
P urpose: To psychologically traumatize you to decrease the chances of you bonding with your baby. Methods used by "Adoption Professionals":Information about labour and delivery was deliberately kept from you such that you were scared and traumatized by the unfamiliar process once labour began. You were left isolated and alone during labour. If there was a hospital attached to the maternity home, were you and other inmates forced to dispose of the placentas? You were physically assaulted and/or mutilated by hospital personnel during labour and/or birth (see "Catherine's Story") You were called derogatory names or otherwise derided by doctors, nurses or medical personnel during your pregnancy, labour or birth. The episiotomy was cut, or sewn-up, without anesthesia. The episiotomy cut thru ligaments, was cut down your leg, or was otherwise unnecessarily large.

F. Financial Coercion.
Purpose: To make you feel financially pressured to surrender. Note: young single mothers are often in a financially-vulnerable situation anyway and thus financial coercion is often a major factor. You are told, or led to believe, that no social assistance was available that would provide you with the financial support necessary to enable you to keep your baby. You are told near or after the birth that if you change your mind, you would be liable for paying for medical bills or other costs beyond your ability to pay. The hospital refused to release your baby to you unless you pay them a large sum of money beyond your ability to pay.

G. Fraud.
Purpose: To guarantee the surrender of your child. Methods used by "Adoption Professionals":Your baby was taken immediately into foster care with no explanation and kept there with the location kept secret from you until the social worker could use "abandonment" as a basis for revoking your parental rights. You were told at some point that the adoption was "final" and found out later that it wasn't. You were told that your baby had died at birth and later found this was false. Note, this is known in the adoption industry as "rapid adoption" - see the article "Rapid Adoptions." ALL single mothers who were told that their baby was stillborn and were not permitted to see the body should demand to see the certificate of death! You were told that the adoption was "final" and found out later that it wasn't at that point in time. You were told that there were no other alternatives. (information about social assistance was withheld from you). You were led to believe that a promise of open adoption was a legally-binding agreement and the adoption later closed. You were told you would "get over it" and be able to return to your "normal life." The documents were signed by someone else forging your signature without your knowledge or consent. You were informed after signing a "pre-birth consent" that it would be held binding in a court-of-law.

H. Withholding information from the mother.
Purpose: To you to surrender by withholding known information about risks or negative consequences. Methods used by "Adoption Professionals":Information withheld about the known lifelong implications, risks, and emotional consequences of surrender (see www.birthmothers.info for information adoption professionals are aware of but commonly withhold) Information withheld about options that would enable you to keep your baby (i.e. financial assistance, temporary foster care, foster care for you and your child together, temporary guardianship, or filing through court for child support from your baby's father) Information withheld about your right to independent legal counsel to explain the legal document you were signing and the legal ramifications of it and to be present in the room to protect your rights as you signed it. Information withheld about the existence of a "revocation of consent" period. You were not permitted to read the documents you were signing. You were not given a copy of the documents you signed. You were pressured to decide on adoption while still pregnant, or to surrender your infant without being able to first care for your infant for several weeks post-partum in order to make an informed decision about motherhood? Information withheld from you about your right to take as many days, weeks or months as you needed before deciding on adoption, if you decided on it at all. Information withheld about your right to care-for and nurture your baby in the hospital. Information withheld about your right to take your baby home from the hospital with you.

In Contrast:
Your Rights as a Mother:
These are some of the rights that may have been denied to you, no matter what your age or social situation was when you gave birth: You had the right to see your baby after he/she was born. You had the right to hold, nurse, and care for your baby.You had the right to be told the sex of your baby. You had the right to independent legal counsel to explain the legal documents were were signing and to be present when you signed them.You had the right to care for your baby without feeling pressured to decide about adoption within ANY certain time period. You had the right to adequate financial support which would have enabled you to keep and raise your baby. These rights come from application of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (http://www.un.org/Overview/rights.html), which has since 1948 guaranteed ALL citizens of Canada, the U.S. and other nations these protections:Article 12. - No one shall be subjected to arbitrary interference with his privacy, FAMILY, home or correspondence, nor to attacks upon his honour and reputation. Everyone has the right to the protection of the law against such interference or attacks. Article 16(3) - The family is the natural and fundamental group unit of society and is entitled to protection by society and the State. Article 25(1) - Everyone has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and of his family, including food, clothing, housing and medical care and necessary social services, and the right to security in the event of unemployment, sickness, disability, widowhood, old age or other lack of livelihood in circumstances beyond his control. (2) Motherhood and childhood are entitled to special care and assistance. All children, whether born in or out of wedlock, shall enjoy the same social protection. Were mothers "choosing" adoption?

DECISION: The ability to make a fully-informed, non-coerced choice between two or more viable options. Starvation, homelessness, or harm to our children are NOT viable options. How they committed a crime by taking our babies: The Criminal Code of Canada (http://laws.justice.gc.ca/en/C-46/42433.html) states, "(281) Abduction of Person Under Fourteen - Every one who, not being the parent ... unlawfully takes, entices away, conceals, detains, receives or harbours that person with intent to deprive a parent ... of the possession of that person is guilty of an indictable offence and liable to imprisonment for a term not exceeding ten years."" They had no "legal authority" to take our children away from us any more than they would have had the legal authority to do it to an older, married mother.

See A Call to Exiled Natural Mothers Copyright © 2004 Origins Canada. Permission to reprint granted as long as this article is reprinted in its entirety and with copyright statement included.

DNA test for Rachael

2008-12-02T07:20:00.000-08:00

Since Rachael can't have another copy of her original birth certificate, (yes she had one and of all things it was stolen) and I lied about her fathers name on her original, AND she would need BOTH sets of parents permission to receive a new copy, would a blood test proving her father is in fact her father suffice in a court of law so that we parents (all 4 of us) could give our permission for her to have a new birth certificate?

Would it be possible to have her fathers real name inserted where the slightly altered name off of a cigarette pack is? I wonder? It will be impossible to get one even with every one's permission since her father is not the name listed on the original. A blood test would be the only way to clear that. But if we did clear that would it be possible to get her an original birth certificate with her mother and father's real name on it?

Any thoughts?

The Tin Man

2008-11-24T08:30:00.000-08:00

I opened 4 e-mails this morning that brought tears to my eyes. One I have yet to finish because I have work to do on the phone and I can not be sobbing during business. The two in the middle were stories with some what of a happy ending. All four touched me in my one and only vulnerable spot, suffering. Be it human or animal I can't stand to see or hear of suffering. The last of the four e-mails simply said "I go to sign my papers today."

The ache resurrected from within resembles a hollow feeling. Like there is nothing inside me at all. I think of the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz. It was sad that the lion didn't have any courage, or the scare crow didn't have a brain, but the Tin Man was the one who had nothing, nothing inside but an echo. The heaviness that lays on my chest with the words in that e-mail will linger with me for weeks.

Someone is celebrating today, their life has been forever changed by the legalization of something they have no doubt waited for for so long. To someone else, this day who's date will be ingrained in their memory forever as well, is not the joyous occasion shared by others. It is the beginning of something equally as legal and permanent, yet has a hollow echoed feeling to it like the Tin Man.

Hostility hangover......

2008-11-19T14:10:00.000-08:00

I know Lori has covered the subject about her confusion on other birthmoms and their lack of feelings for their children they relinquished. And I think she did a great job relaying her emotions on this. But I have to chime in on this.

Granted I am not a relinquishing mother, I have not given any children up for adoption so I can empathize with the emotions but not really understand them. Such as Lori and others can never truly understand what its like to be on my end-an adoptee. I think we both have a pretty good grasp of what the other has been through and respect the pain each has felt.
But the others....the ones that pretend as though they never gave birth, that blame the child THEY gave away, the ones that treat their relinquished children as a hostile addition to their lives......I ask you this......who the hell do you think you are?

YOU got pregnant. We were not there to assist, goad or provoke you. YOU are the one that chose to sleep with whomever our fahters are. **Now in the case of abuse, rape or any other form of this-I AM NOT SPEAKING TO YOU. I understand your pain and wanting to block it out. I can't say I fully agree with turning your back on the child, but I can see why it would be much harder for you to be there for us with welcoming arms.

But you others, the ones that simply made a mistake and got pregnant, HOW CAN YOU SHUN US FOR YOUR POOR JUDGEMENT???
I did not twist Lori's arm to sleep with Jim. It was a choice she made. I was the consequence of that. I feel no remorse for this, I feel no responsibility. I WAS NOT EVEN THERE. I also feel no anger toward her. I was a mistake, I'm good with that, it's ok.
I also made some poor choices. I took a different path than Lori. I graduate from high school 6 months pregnant. I blame no one but myself. I made that choice and I got pregnant, I choose to keep my daughter. Doesn't make me better, worse or anything else. I was just one more choice I had to make. Key words here are "I HAD TO MAKE" No one else.

I grasp the idea that you were young, poor, scared....all the reasons i have heard from others on why they relinquished. I support the choice you felt you made for the better. Hell, I even respect if you are one of those that flat out did not love/want/care about your child and you made steps to give them something more. But that still does not release you from your liability. You DID give birth, You ARE someones mother, You owe them at the VERY LEAST the common curtosy of giving them their history. Why??? BECAUSE YOU CREATED THEM, YOU GAVE THEM LIFE, BUCK UP AND ADMIT YOU DID MAKE A MISTAKE AND DID THE BEST YOU COULD IN THE SITUATION.

Everyone has things they are not proud of, if that is the reason for turning your back on the person that spent 9 months sharing your body, get over it. No one is perfect, people will look at you with more respect if you just say "I did the best I could" rather than act like a spoiled brat that isn't getting her way.
If you are unable to stand up and be a grown up then, in my mind, you are weak.

This not meant to be offensive. Well, maybe it is, I don't honestly care if anyone gets angry with me over this blog. It will not effect my life one bit. I am just so tired of talking to my other adoptee friends that have not had the positive relationship with their bmoms. They are shunned, condemned, tossed aside. They do not deserve such treatment for actions they had no voice in and no vote in. YOU ARE THE ONES THAT MADE THE CHOICE FOR US. We should not be expected to bear YOUR cross for eternity because you are too small of a person to do it yourself.

To those bmoms that wait eons to have their relinquished children find them, heart heavy and soul bruised, I thank you. I thank you for the open mind and strong backbone you exhibit. Being a bmom is not easy, but being strong enough to admit your shortcomings at that time in your life and want to hold your child again, shows more character than you will ever know.

Lori has always been honest with me. She has put out there that her life was a mess at the time SHE got pregnant and the choice SHE made to relinquish me. She is not faultless, but she was more woman than any of these cowards. She may not be famous, rich or powerful but she is my mother. And she knows that. She admits that. She made mistakes, she did the best she could, she made a choice to protect me, she stood by her decision, she claims no martyer title. She was a scared little girl with grown up decisions to make. At 16 she was more grown than any of you other so called women that can't even admit to themselves what they have done.

Lori, I am PROUD to be your daughter. I am PROUD that you are able to say I was a mistake and stand by your choices. I am PROUD that you are as strong as you are. I am PROUD you are not one of these weaklings that want to put on the rose colored glasses and pretend nothing ever happened. I will take your loud, brash, overly honest, in your face, kiss my ass personality any day.
You look in the mirror and remind yourself.....you are awesome and your daughter is gonna be just like you.

Thank you, for being a royal pain in the asses of the weaklings. I could not as asked for a better person to be my mother.
I love you......PAINFULLY

making it my home

2008-11-19T03:11:00.000-08:00

I have been overly busy lately. My time seems to be slipping away from me. There is just so much to do. We recently bought a new house and are in the process of renovations. Some things are going smoothly and others seem to drag on and on. But the excitement the family is feeling is undeniable. Everyone is ready to make this move and see if we can get things back on track for us.

My whole life I never felt home. Home in the sense where you can feel completely at ease, your own space, 'hang your hat' so to speak. Growing up I was never intentionally made to feel like a visitor in my own life, but thats exactly how I did feel. I felt I was walking through the personal space of someone else. That same feeling held fast when I became an adult too. I still to this day feel like I am just a really familiar guest in the area I should be the most comfortable.

I have every intention of breaking that with my new house. Or at least, I'm gonna try like hell.
I know home is more than just a shelter, it is a state of mind. It is not just a phyiscal element, it is a part of your psyche. But, my new theory is "if I surround myself with things that reflect me, maybe it will absorb me"

I have no idea if that makes any sense to anyone but me, but that is what I am working to achieve. I have always had the hand me downs from others, which is fine, I don't need new sparkley things to passify me. But I would like to have a hand in the things I am going to be surrounded by. Not just what Aunt Ruth had and didn't need any more or Uncle Bob's old so and so he needs to clear away to make room for his new so and so....

This house is mine, free and clear. No one can ever take it from me. I do not need to ask permission from anyone as to what I can or cannot do there. I have thought long and hard on each detail, I have fell asleep to visions of colors and textures. I have put myself into each room. Thankfully, hubby has finally conceded to his long time 'white wall' theory and given me free reign. Poor man, everytime I tell him what color I have in mind, he gets a look of sucking on a lemon on his face. But he smiles and agrees. And with each new opening paint can I can see him shrink in fear, then take a deep breath and grab a roller. He is such a trooper. So far, even though he has been leery, when the room is done, he sits back and just stares in amazement. I catch him leaving and then entering the same room time and time again. Just to get that 'full effect'. I am chipping away at his fear of going outside the norm.

Now, it was not an easy win with him. He like normalcy. But I crave something else. I can't say what it is, but I feel I need to exert my personality into every room. My hope is, if everytime I sit in a room, I will see something that came from me, something I like, then it that will make me more secure. Like going to a beloved place from your past, somewhere that fuels that warm belly feeling. Somewhere you think of and can't wait to return to, that you can still smell, taste and see in your mind. A place where you can be you and no one cares.

I don't know if this is what everyone feels. Maybe I am putting too much weight on the physical being of home, but it makes sense to me. Surround yourself with things that reflect you and who you are, and the rest will come naturally.
Or I could be way off base and end up with nothing but a really cool house and still feel like a visitor.

I don't know if my plan will work, that will have to be an update for later. For now though, I am going to barrel ahead and give it all I got. Keep your fingers crossed, maybe the adage is wrong. Maybe you CAN go home, even if its for the first time.

I went to church yesterday

2008-11-17T07:00:00.001-08:00

I have not been in church for months now. I have made every excuse possible, why I do not know. I like it there. I like being accepted by the parishioners. I like how i feel about myself when I leave there. But for some reason I have not gone.

I think in part is has to do with all the adoption I see. I live in a town of adoption and it very alive and well here. Since my last hour in a pew I noticed that our little church has gained several new families. That's a good thing. We needed it. Something else I noticed and just couldn't get it out of my head was a little girl I recognized with a cast on her arm, and two little boys with two black eyes each. They were together with a woman I had not noticed before, I assume they were brothers.

Now having a crash kid of my own, I understand how it is. I have one who seemed to have stitches in the weirdest places and can see why it would raise an eyebrow from time to time.

I asked about the little girl since I sort of knew her parents. Her arm was not broken but fractured enough that at her age they thought it best to have it casted. But the boys are still bothering me. Lumped up foreheads and both eyes blackened. It could have been a car accident, it could have been anything but my mine saw something different. I immediately thought that these boys had been removed from their home and placed with whom ever this woman was. I did not see much interaction between the woman and the children so I could not see if they acted like mother and child. But it is still bothering me. I want to know what happened to those boys. I want to know if they have been removed from their home because of those bruises.

It is hard for me to go to church sometimes. There are all those people with other peoples children. They honestly think in their hearts that what they are doing is in the best interest of the child, and maybe it is. One little girl and her brother have recently been adopted by a family from my church and I have to admit they are shown so much love. I feel bad for the parents because these children were abducted at birth. No matter how many children their mother has she will have them taken from her at birth. I don't know the story behind it, but the adoptive mother is finished with DHS and being a foster parent. She does not blame it on the kids but the system itself.

I would really like to talk to her one day about her reasoning for that, but I am hesitant to in fear that it will come back on me and hurt my relationship with the church. I tried to talk to another woman once about something similar and she kept giving me her rendition of how wonderful everything is. I never did get my actual question answered.

So basically I went to church, felt good about it, and yet came home feeling depressed about the fate of the children again. Man this is hard.

Coming Together

2008-11-14T09:03:00.001-08:00

In the past few months I have been feeling more confident about my position in adoption land. I am finally finding a voice, a passion, a stand. I have offered my ear or my email to women who are thinking of surrendering their children. I have offered my email to women who have recently surrendered and are having the proverbial hard time getting through each and every day with out a melt down.

Does this mean I have turned into the sweetest most compassionate person on the planet? Hardly. In fact it means a bit of the opposite. I've been getting a bit rowdier, more vocal. I have been stating my position with confidence. Something I could not do before. I couldn't do it because I wasn't sure where I stood. I certainly didn't want to rock the boat. I didn't want to do or say something that would jeopardize my relationship with my daughter or turn her parents against me in any way. But I think I have found my common ground.

I have read more in this past year than I have my entire life, and my waist line is definite proof that I tell the truth. I have been making friends and acquaintances with some perspective adoptive parents. Ones who have been turned off by the rantings of the unhappy, ungrateful adoptees. I have opened up my email to those who dare take the bait and I have actually been able to point out a few things to those who reside on the winning side of adoption. Mostly in the areas of myth busting. Myth being that all adoptees are legally available for adoption. Myth being that signing papers takes away feelings of the heart. Myth being that a relationship between a first mother and daughter negates the position of an adoptive mother.

My daughters parents are her mom and dad. I am her mother. I have a relationship with her. I have been accepted as her mother by her mom. I have been invited to their home, which I never thought would happen. I have shared my story and deepest pain with women I do not know. I have passed along information in an attempt to open the eyes of women on the other side of adoption. I have thought, pondered and blogged about the pain an infertile woman must feel and how it differs only slightly from the pain of a surrendering mother. Bottom line it is the pain of empty arms. Something women from both sides can relate to and come together on if they try.

Now I have decided to try and bring women together from both sides of a child. That's what it is basically. One side is surrender the other is infertility and for some reason it pits them against each other. Something I honestly believe was started by the all too uncaring agencies. Something I see as being completely and totally unnecessary and I am out to prove it.

In order for this to work I think I need to put myself out there, vulnerably. So here's your chance. What ever you write I will post unless it is descriptive of me naked. That's a visual no one needs and it means your probably my neighbor in which your opinion doesn't count.

I'm looking for women to tell me what they think.

Am I on the right track?

Am I wrong?

Do I live in a fantasy world?

Is my reunion a farce?

Are all these stories of abused adoptees, baby brokers, baby farms, human trafficking, surrendering mothers pain, a fabrication?

What do you think is in the best interest of an adopted child? Why?

Would an adoptees relationship with two sets of parents be a good thing, a bad thing, impossible? Why?

Are you afraid of International Adoption ending? Why? What does it mean to you?

Do you think the system is broken? Why?

If I can accept and acknowledge your pain can you accept and acknowledge mine?

Am I missing something? What?

Can we become responsible for changing adoption together in the name of what is best for the children AND for us?

Now for the DISCLAIMER: I'm looking for honest opinions on ways to bring women together. I am not discarding men. I am focusing on women. If men want to put in their comments they are more than welcome to do so. I welcome ANY male perspectives. I want real stuff though, if you have a strong opinion one way or another, THAT'S what I want to hear. If you think I'm an idiot okay, say so and move on, don't give me 40 paragraphs on why I'm an idiot.

If you have suggestions, I want to hear them. What do you think needs to happen before women can come together and make adoption a functioning system that is in all actuality a win win win situation.

All I ask is that you be "at least" from one side of adoption. This includes extended family. Grandparents especially, but also Aunts Uncles, siblings. If you have something to say that is within the broad and very laxed guidelines, I want to hear it.

FYI: I want people to understand that finding my voice came directly from the people some seem to think are the root of the problem. "The Ungrateful Bastards" If they had not been so patient with me over the past months (I'm sure out of respect for my daughter) I would not know what I do today. I surely did not know all this a few months ago. Do I have the utmost respect for them? YES. Should this be a problem here? NO.

I AM NOT NECESSARILY LOOKING FOR ANSWERS TO THESE SPECIFIC QUESTIONS, JUST PUT THEM OUT THERE AS A STARTER. SAY WHAT EVER YO FEEL IS RELEVENT.

UGH, I think I'm one of THEM........

2008-11-14T02:50:00.000-08:00

While having a casual conversation with a dear friend of mine not too long ago, the topic of reunion and families came up. She is also an adoptee who searched and found her roots. Good, bad or ugly, she finally had some answers in her life.

As we chatted about nature vs. nurture, the importence of just knowing and general rights we, as adoptees, are denied, I made a passing comment about my daughter. A comment that would lead to a huge revalation for me and haunt me.

Let me give some background, so you can understand.

At the ripe age of 17 I became pregnant with my daughter. I was a senior in high school and was college bound-or so I thought. Her father was a quiet one, a far cry from my outlandish and loud personality. It wasn't exactly love at first sight-to be honest-it wasn't even like. I actully didn't care for him much. He was too quiet, too brooding, too mousey. But as I got to know him I found his true personality and was slightly smitten. We dated casually for some time and I became pregnant. I was scared but was determined to keep my baby. I called him to break the news. After a 15-20 minute conversation-I delivered the blow. He became quiet....he stammered a little....then he said it "ummm, WHO is this? I think you have the wrong number, I don't know anyone by that name. Sorry" >>click<<>

So it has now been 18 years. I have never attempted to contact him, I did not push for him to be in her life. I couldn't, what if one day he grew angry with her over me? What if he resented her and treated her poorly? I would not take that chance.
Years passed, and every so often I would see his name in the paper for some crime he commited. Drunk driving, larceny, assult.....it wasn't often, but enough to make me catch my breath each time. He sent word via a mutual friend that he had moved to another state, but there was his name in black and white in our local paper.

Over the years my daughter would question. She was hurt, curious, angry, confused, everything most of us are when we have a huge piece of our lives missing from the puzzle. I tried to keep the conversations light and not voice my anger toward him. It was not my place to form a poor image of her 'father' when she didn't know him. Hell, I didn't know him any more, how could I assume what he was?
Finally when she turned 16, I think, things were becoming increasingly hostile with her. She blamed most of this on the fact that she didn't even know his name. I finally broke and gave it to her.

Now this should have been a weight off my shoulders, but it wasn't. In fact it was the exact opposite. I found myself more vocal of my distain of him. I made snap judgements of what I figured he had turned out to be. I did everything in my power to keep her from searching for him. He could be very toxic to her. He may not have grown up at all. He may use her to gain for his own personal issues.

He may hurt her. He may shun her. He may deny her. He may DESTROY her.

So while friend and I were in this discussion, she stuffed my own personal blank slate of a past, in my face. She reminded me of the emptiness I had before I searched and found my mother and father. She waved the fact that my own father had a 'past' too, that he was a different person back then. I ALREADY KNEW ALL THIS. I knew because I went through it. I remembered the anger and pain I felt when I was met with closed doors at every turn during my search. I remember the questions, the gaping holes in my genetic history, the constant, nagging "what if....."

It really made me understand another side of the triad of adoption. I was doing everything I could to protect her, and I didn't even know for sure she needed protection. I was taking on the role of adoptive parent. I was battling the unknown of biology and it scared me. I was willing to deny her what I so desperately fought to attain for myself. KNOWLEDGE. I deserved to know, it was my roots and I wanted them. I was entitled to them. But when it came to taking a backseat and watching a potential train wreck with my daughter-I put on the brakes. I forgot what it was like to be the one in the dark.

I was ashamed of myself.

But with shame came a newfound respect. I thought of how my aparents must have felt. The fear of having to pick up the pieces if the reunion went sour. The worry of her liking or loving him more than me. The panic of potentially losing your child to a stranger.

I was willing to put it all out there when I was the one doing the looking. But to think of her being the one out there with her heart exposed......it was almost too much to bear.

I got a heaping dose of 'humble pie' that day. I realized what I had been doing and the possible backlash of it. I realized I was the thing I hated most during my search-the one with the answers that refused to talk. The person that was single handedly robbing her of her roots.

I have a new perspective on this now. Granted its easy for me to say now, she is in a place in her life that does not involve searching. So I am safe-for a while. But I have vowed to have as much info for her as possible when the day comes. And I know it will come. I would rather give her the chance to know, then to allow her to have a lifetime of wondering. Even if its a farce reunion, she will be able to say she knows. Any adoptee can relate to the idea that knowing is usually better.

So, to you Dear Friend, thanks. I know you had no idea how much our conversation affected me. You slapped me with the reality stick and brought me back down to earth. I appreciate your honesty and understanding, but most of all I appreciate your gentle push in the right direction. I will do the right thing and help her when the time comes. Even if I hate every second of it-it not about ME, its about HER.

2008-11-13T15:01:00.000-08:00

I read a question on one of the popular places to go on the Internet today. The poster asked how so many can try to persuade her into keeping her child when we don't know her at all and she thinks she isn't the best thing for the child. She was irritated that so many are trying to "force" her into keeping her child. She seems to think we have no right. I usually do not boast the keep your baby scenario. I try to stay neutral to a mothers situation. I know how I felt when it was my turn to step up to the big girl plate and make my decision. I try to give the same respect but at the same time try to make sure that they ARE making an informed decision.

I have had a few women through invitation by me, email me just to talk about what it's like, how do I get through from day to day, did I make a mistake, when does the day come that my every thought isn't consumed with the ache of my empty arms? It is heart wrenching to hear the pain in their words. It is all too familiar.

There were several surrendering mothers who genuinely tried to explain what can not be explained. I have already said this but it is something you have to go through to understand and that alone is not good enough for these women considering adoption for their child. I don't want to point out the dark side, my daughter got a good home. Bottom line my daughter and I both got lucky. A luck that took 28 years for me to realize. But that's not my point.

I wanted to add to what had already been said but so much had been explained already I wasn't sure I could add anything. So I pointed out that those who dismiss adoption stories as only the doom and gloomers version and only once in a while fluke situations were not the women who had lived being a surrendering mother. That the women who had actually worn her shoes were looking out for HER. Most had already stated that it takes wearing those shoes to know how it feels. One even posted questions from that site that had already been asked by other mothers who were suffering because of their decision. I was at a loss for words so I asked her if she could live with the stories of another adopted child found dead or abused? If she was aware that not all children get the pony and the pool? That later on she may find out that her child might have actually been better off with her rather than without. Again I asked her if she could live with that?

I hope one of us got through to her that not all adoptive parents are necessarily better than a mother who has low self esteem issues. And that we are actually looking out for her.

DISCLAIMER: By no stretch of the imagination am I intending to disrespect good adoptive parents who love, care for, and try to understand what is important to their child. I am trying to find the words to express how it feels to be me.

My views on Infertility

2008-11-12T10:11:00.000-08:00

Rachael and I have both been so busy lately. Rachael is always busy, I have spurts. But none the less it is by no means rare form for either of us to miss the first two days of blogging in the month long quest to bring awareness to adoption.

Come to think of it she probably doesn't even know I signed us up for this. She will find out when she reads this post. I have wanted to take the time to post my views on infertility and I have been afraid to take the time. Why? Because I understand the pain and I haven't wanted to take the time to find just the right words.

Words are everything. Language is everything to adoption. I understand this, but most of my emotions, in depth feelings, and compassion, struggle to come out in proper words. It's like trying to describe how it feels to be kicked in the gut really hard. Something that has to be felt to understand. This is how I feel about my side of adoption, the surrendering mother side. If I could find the right words I'm sure anyone who ever read them would never surrender a child. It has to be the same feeling to find out that a person is infertile.

There has to be that indescribable feeling of inadequacy. The feeling of being cheated, left out, passed by in the line of particular body parts. I understand this. I can't pretend to know exactly how it feels, but I can through my own experience understand that there are no words that can describe the emptiness. I would imagine it would create a feeling of empty arms similar to what I felt as a woman who was fertile, suffered the nine months, and went home from a long, nightmarish ordeal of a delivery with nothing to show for my fight. A three day long fight that left me physically scarred from a C section.

I also understand the anger felt toward women who feel that their or their mates infertility entitles them to a child from other means. I understand why adoptees see these woman as selfish. Their medical circumstances has blinded them to certain aspects of adoption. The human factor seems to have gone out the window and the must have desire in them seems to have taken over.

I do not profess that all infertile women posses this quality. In fact it seems that things are slowly changing. More openness and respect on behalf of the adoptee has seemed to bring more infertile women to a point of listening at the very least. Some still resist, but it seems to me that more and more each day are reading the things that adoptees and surrendering mothers have to say. It seems that adoptees have in fact found their voice. They have found the words to express what it feels like to be adopted. I on the other hand still struggle with the words. It brings me back to the kick in the gut. Something you just have to experience to understand.

My hope is that if I can express in some small way that I understand your pain, maybe you will give me the benefit of the doubt and try to understand mine. To never be able to conceive, carry, feel the movement of a child growing inside you must be a devastating blow. To never have the back aches, heart burn, swelling from head to toe, lack of comfortable sleep, huge leaking breasts, raging hormones, and the physical PAIN of delivery that compares to no other, is truly something you are missing out on and my heart aches for you.

Try if you can, after several months of bonding with, forming love for, and parenting your child brought to you through adoption, to imagine what it must be like to go through all the things you will never experience and go home without the child you yourself have grown to love. It doesn't matter what a woman was, abusive, neglectful, addicted, abandoned or alone, the feeling is still the same for most. Her social status, bad choices, dealt cards mean nothing. Whether she surrendered freely or had help from her peers, society, church, the feeling is still the same. Whether she deserves the child or not, the feeling is still the same.

Why did I post this? In an attempt to bring mothers together. To show mutual respect for one another's misfortunes in life. To try an stop the madness that has become our modern day adoption which pits mother against mother through lies, deceipt, and money, and does nothing for the innocent, struggling child.

Was I wrong to try?

Another Plea for Opened Records

2008-11-12T06:21:00.000-08:00

If this doesn't say Opened Records what will? Worth the 7 minutes, please watch.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SIUPa57hIE8

The Words of Another Mother

2008-11-04T14:26:00.000-08:00

I have her permission to copy this here. I wanted others to see more than my opinion on what it feel like to be who I am. The one aspect of adoption that has not changed is the surrendering part.

Melissa writes;

In 2007 this girl I knew graduated high school with honors. She received a full ride to college. She was going to study business, travel, maybe get married, have children in her mid 20s and build a huge house in North Carolina or Georgia. She had everything planned down to the floors, Brazilian cherry by the way. That Melissa is no longer. I feel crushed and I can't forgive myself. I'm the skipped CD that refuses to move forward. I waste my time reflecting on events and decisions that can't be changed.

Thank you Melissa for sharing your words with me and the rest of blog world.

Seeing How The Other Half Live.

2008-11-02T14:43:00.000-08:00

Anyone who knows my story knows I had a hard time for years after letting my daughter go. I suffered silently, self medicated, and tried to kill myself literally more than once. I have always supported women's choice, concerning birth and abortion. I have defended blindly the pain and suffering of a first mother in the circus called adoption.

But one thing I can not wrap my head around is not wanting reunion. How can a woman not want to see the child she carried and surrendered?

I understand not wanting to relive the pain. Not wanting to go back to that time when you were so distraught, so helpless, so hopeless, with no support, no one to talk to, no one to understand. I just can't picture not wanting to heal yourself after all those years of silent torture. If anyone can put it into words without sounding shallow and self centered I will listen.

I listen to adoptee's who have been denied reunion by their mothers and it breaks my heart. A second rejection, what a blow.

If you could hear what I hear, if you could know what I know, if you could feel what I feel, I have no doubt you would change your mind, but how to get that information to you. How do I get you to understand what you are doing to a living breathing human being who wants nothing more that to see your face, know where they come from, feel your warmth, have a connection for the first time in their life.

I won't say that reunion isn't painful because it is. It hurts, but so did letting my daughter go. I can't say that reunion is all smiles and instant forgiveness, it's not. I had to go back to places I never wanted to go again. I had to say out loud, things I was afraid to say. I had to face my demons, all of them, be they by my own hand or not.

But the end result was a saving grace for me. I finally felt like a person. The weight that was lifted from me was enormous. I no longer had a dirty little secret. I no longer felt like that nasty little girl who got herself into a mess that she had to clean up.

And my daughter, oh my God, how wonderful she is. Short tempered, quick witted, insulting at the drop of a dime, everything I would want in a girl, or a boy. No seriously, she is a wonderful woman and she says she feels like a whole person now.

I remember how afraid I was that she would hate me, she doesn't, she loves me insanely. I gave her half the missing pieces of who she is. She finally knows who she is. The face was a mystery but the torso, the hands, the gestures, mannerisms, humor, all fell into place.

When we met her father again after 35 years, she found the rest of her. Her face, hair, eyes, and so much more.

My question to those who do not want reunion is why? Why do you refuse to free yourself from the pain that adoption has brought you? Why do you refuse to allow another human being to move on to the next level of their life?

Can you not see what you do? Have you given no thought to how much this second rejection hurts the child you bore? What are you afraid of, loving your child? Having a relationship? Being found out that you had sex as a teenager?

I listen to these grown adults speak of how much they would love nothing more than to see your face, hear your voice, tell you they are not angry with you, and you reject them. You put your own pain or embarrassment first. You expect them to remain your dirty little secret for ever. Never upsetting your perfect little world.

Your world is not perfect, just protected, and from what? You protect yourself from your child. I do not understand.

Have you listened to the agency too long? Did someone tell you that you would forget? You have not forgotten, I know you haven't. Your just afraid. Afraid that your secret will change what you have. You have lived in fear all these years and the one thing that can free you is knocking at your door. Why can't you face them? What about their fear, all their lives they have lived in fear. Fear that you will reject them again, fear you will die before they find you, fear they won't be pretty enough or successful enough. Fear they won't be good enough, the same fear they lived with all their lives. They weren't good enough that's why you didn't keep them. You know that's a lie. You know they were good enough, but they don't. So you reinforce that self esteem killer by rejecting them again. Why? They have lowered themselves to look for the one person who was never supposed to let them go and you reject them again.

I have never felt more whole than the day I laid eyes on my daughter. She was a grown woman with a family of her own. I had missed so much. My grand children are great. My daughter is a well adjusted woman who can think for herself and doesn't need me to survive. She needs me to be me. No more no less, just me. She needs to see where she comes from, feel the familiar surroundings, smell home.

Her parents are still her parents. She has never denied them their status, nor have I. She still confides in them on important matters, respects them as the people who raised her and the only family she has ever known. Her father and I are a bonus.

How can you deny another person the opportunity to know where they come from? How can you deny them other family? How can you think of yourself first when someone has waited so many years just to know you, see you, feel your touch? How would you feel if you were someones dirty little secret? How would you feel if it were you who knew nothing about your origin? If it were you who saw nothing familiar when you looked in the mirror?

Someone please help me to understand how one can cause so much more pain to another human being who wants so little.

I hurt on behalf of your children and I am embarrassed by your selfishness. I also know how wonderful it feels to be free of the pain that has caused your fear.

AGENCIES IDEA OF HELPING

2008-10-22T21:38:00.000-07:00

THIS IS HAPPENING TO A FRIEND OF OURS. PLEASE READ AND USE THE LINK AT THE BOTTOM TO SEE WHAT THE AGENCY ADVERTIZES THAT IT OFFERS AS OPPOSED TO WHAT THEY ACTUALLY DO.

Please Help Everyone!
« on: October 22, 2008, 07:12:47 PM »
Quote
It has been two days since Holt received this and not a peep. Typically I hear back from them within an hour.Either they have decided to cut their losses with me or they are in the backroom trying to figure out how to do damage control.Please everyone, If you can post my original post (below) on other boards,blogs, websites, that would be a great help.I have tried unsuccessfully to join some other groups over the pastcouple of months (just never heard back from some, so maybe they areinactive?) and/or I don't know what all places get the most traffic,as I am pretty new to being out of my adoption fog. Especially if youare a member of any international KAD sites, that would be helpful aswell.I think this is important for ALL Holt alumni to see what has happenedto me, because this treatment is not an isolated incident.Thank you!I have prefaced the document with background info for easier cuttingand pasting below*******************************************************************Holt Renigs on Promise-one document was found addressing two abandoned children:-the document is not officially stamped-the document has seven items which address them sometimesindividually, sometime together-transferred on the same day-from the same place-same sex-same age-the were given provisional names due to being abandoned-they were later given consecutive Holt orphan numbers,#4708 and #4709 (which every Holt orphan exhibits on their littlesquare photo)There is a remote possibility the girls could be related.Holt International located the girl's files and promised to contacther. After conferring with Holt Korea, they have rescinded their promise.Read her letter to Holt International below:Steve Kalb of Holt International,I entered into this search process not unlike most every otheradoptee, naively thinking Holt would help me out as stated on yourwebsite. However, this process, though friendly, has beencontinuously frustrated by your methods.* First, your organization told me you could not provide assistancebecause I was abandoned and there was no identifying information. Sorry.* Then, I received my child records, which are my legal right, only tofind there was important information in my records.* When pressed to receive my FULL record, which is my legal right, andwhich includes the records in Korea, I was told they were the same asthe records at Holt International in Oregon.* Then, I was told that assessment of my Holt Korea records showedthere was no identifying information so you couldn't help me. Sorry.* When pressed about what Holt Korea was looking at, I was told it wasjust one page in a log book and there was nothing important. Sorry* Only after persisting did your organization relent and send mecopies of my Holt Korea file and it proved to have two documentsinstead of one. The second document was most definitely very important.* There has been nothing but excuses and delays in a propertranslation of this important document.* When I asked to put my request for contact with Holt orphan #4709 inher passive registry you told me you could do better and facilitatecontact. You have broken that promise.Once again, you are acting as arbiters of what is and isn't valid.It is my understanding that two children on one document is NOT COMMONas you state.I find the argument that we can not possibly be related due to havingdifferent family names UNACCEPTABLE, as it states right on thedocument that we were given provisional names. Since both our nameswere fabricated, then how can you use a difference in names as theargument for BREAKING YOUR PROMISE to facilitate my contact? how canwe trust any of the other data, such as age? If Holt Korea now sayswe are six months apart, How do we know that is true if our NAMES werefabricated? How can you discern fact from fiction when there is noknown facts but known fiction? How can we trust your organizationwith an abysmal track record like the history outlined above?Your repeated frustration of my search efforts continue to be basedupon illogical premises and this frustrates locating a possible familytie that could be re-established, independent of a mother's desire toremain anonymous. If this frustration is not intentional, then thereis gross ignorance and ineptitude on the part of Holt International.You can DO BETTER. You have not handled my case well. You can do ASYOU PROMISED and facilitate contact with girl #4709, since you DO haveidentifying information for her, so that we definitively - and notjust based on your doubts - rule out that she is my sister. This isnot a matter of CAN you do it. This is a matter of WILL.Holt orphan #4709 may very well not be my sister, but it is ridiculousto not bother to find out. There is nothing to be lost by contact andeverything to be gained.I had no beef with your organization prior to this, but this charadeof what you call assisted search has inflamed my attitude towardsHolt. It's not too late to actually provide what you say you do. AndKEEP YOUR PROMISES.Once again, I must remind you that my entire search process is beingshared publicly and is transparent on this end, even if it isn't onyour end. The more you make my search more difficult than it has tobe, the less flattering it is for Holt International. And this iskey, Mr. Kalb - you could have spared all of us a lot of irritationand bad humor if you'd just ponied up all my documents up front fromday one and reviewed them with an investigative eye to TRULY assistme. I don't understand how continuously trying to send the adoptee ontheir way empty handed helps your case.I would like to close my dealings with your organization on a positivenote. Please give me reason to do so.ADDED:For detailed information on how to decipher Holt's Post Adoptionpractices, and what you can do to prevail, read the permanent pageBe Tenacious - How to get your identity backhttp://holtsurvivor.wordpress.com/be-tenacious-how-to-get-your-identity-back/If you have any information regarding orphan #4709, please contactal.most_human@...

I made a difference

2008-10-20T12:50:00.000-07:00

I was in the biggest town around my parts yesterday and I ran into a woman who had been a foster parent and who had adopted a brother and sister recently. I know her from church and one day a few months back I called her to see if she had original birth certificates on her children. We talked for an hour. Mostly I talked. She kept saying "I didn't know that, I didn't know that,I didn't know that either" When we had gotten off the phone I wasn't sure if I had gotten through to her or if she was just humoring me until I ran out of wind. I wasn't sure because of her answers to my questions, or the fact that I had called her out of the blue to discuss this. I had envisioned her looking at the receiver with that who is this woman look on her face. Mozying around her house nodding in polite yeah okayness to everything I said.

WELL

Yesterday she walked up to me and told me that the adoptions on her two new family members (who were removed from their home ) were recently finalized. One a few months ago and the other last month. She looked at me with wide eyes and said " I got the boys original birth certificate" she went on to explain that the same office different person would not give her the daughters original but she wasn't done fighting for it.

I was dumbfounded. I had actually gotten through to her. She was listening. I was very proud of the fact that between the two of us we had managed to get at least one original birth certificate.

In that hour long discussion I asked her to talk to any other foster parents she knew and to repeat the things I had just told her. Even if they do not adopt the children at least somewhere there would be an original to go with the child. I suggested passing them on to the adoptive parents, sticking them in a file and sitting on them for years if need be.

Now I know that this does not change the fact that the law needs to be changed. I know that it does not help thousands of others, but it did help just one, and through this woman who does in fact know lots of adoptive parents because I live in a town of adoption, it may help even more.

Her own daughter is an adoptee light who may have passport issues in a few short years. You see my son and her daughter just graduated from modeling school together. Her daughter is ideal runway material. We both heard about another woman through the class who is right now working in Japan doing runway work, something that requires a passport. It hit home for her.

You never know what your kids career paths are going to be. My other son has a strong desire to travel and possibly work in Japan. He has expressed interest several times. Although he will have no passport issues, it just proves you never know how someone elses actions will affect the future of another human being.

I am happy on this day that a shot in the dark phone call that could have cost me a friend turned out so well for one little man. The funny part is he will never know the significance of it all. As it should be.

The Pain of a Mother who choses Adption

2008-10-16T11:24:00.000-07:00

I recently responded to a question on Y/A that in turn started a back and forth email session between myself and this young mother who recently surendered her son. It has only been a few weeks and she is doing the all too familiar flip flop back and forth between changing her mind and letting the adoption continue.

As many things that have changed, evolved, progressed in adoption one thing has remained exactly the same. The pain a mother feels after letting a child go. Her words are my words all over again. Her pain has resurrected my own. I ache for her, I cry for her, I feel that empty pit in my stomach and in my arms, my empty arms. I remember through her, the sleepless nights, the prayers just to let me die in order to stop the hurt. Disfocused, disheveled inside, putting a smile on my face every day so the world will not know what a fool I feel like. That it didn't bother me to do what I did, see I'm fine, as I bite the inside of my mouth to keep me from bursting into tears.

Why is it women who have not been there can not see through the words of women who have that this is painful. This is more than painful, it's humiliating, frightening, depressing, and so much more that words can describe. Maybe that's the problem I can't find the right words to get across to them that there is more to it, so much more to it than just signing papers and walking away.

Had anyone told me how much this was going to hurt and for how long would I have listened? Would I have changed my mind? Would this young lady have listened? Would anyone have been able to describe to her in words what it feels like to do what we did? Probably not. Especially when you have so many others clammoring in your ear about how easy it's going to be. How much better it's going to be. How wonderful your going to feel about making someone else soooo happy. She feels stupid, tricked, lied to. All the things I felt but would never admit.

I felt tricked for a different reason. Now a days you can't help but know that adoption costs a lot of money. Believe it or not I didn't know that. I didn't know people paid money for babies let alone more money for healthy babies. When I was told that I almost went insane. A woman asked me if my child had all her fingers and toes, limbs,etc... and was excited because she would go for a good price. I remember that day like no other. It changed everything for me.

I still stand behind my decision of adoption being the better choice for my daughter, just like this young lady stands behind hers, most days. But to know what someone is headed for and not be able to explain it to them in words adequate enough to understand is frustrating. All I can do is be there and try to help them pick up the pieces of their shattered life. Sit with them without words having to be exchanged because words fail to accurately describe. Let them know that someone stands next to them and completely understands. Accept them into the club no one wants to join. Help them work on themselves so that their sacrifice is not in vain. Get them to that next level, help them through that one day that seems to never end.

I have heard people talk about saving that one child through international adoption. In a sense I can relate. I want to save that one mother who is in pain beyond words. I want to get her to that next class, get her to work the next day, get her out of bed and in the shower. I want to keep her from that early morning drink, that next dose of make it go away pills. I want to hold her hand through the next 18 years only to realize that the real wait has just begun.

I have always said that I do not belong to the sisterhood. Meaning I don't automatically stick up for women just because they are women. Especially when it comes to things they do to men. I am more ashamed to belong to the species most of the time. But this is a sisterhood I feel I belong to. This one I can relate to. This one I can't turn my back on.

My young friend, if you are reading, I want you to know you have found a sister. One that will hold your hand from far away and help you through all the initiations of this club you now belong. I will drag you out of bed, get you in the shower, send you off to class or to work on time. I will be there when you get home and can't hold back the tears. I will listen when others have had enough and feel you should move on, because I remember, and I had those who were there for me.

When you are strong, and I assure you that day will come, maybe you can be there for another who has made the same choice we made. Maybe you can find the words that seem to escape me. Maybe together we can find a way for others to get through the one thing that has not changed in my 35 years. The Pain of a Mother who choses adoption.

To the man who made the most sincere offer I have ever had

2008-10-15T08:53:00.000-07:00

I have known this man almost my whole life. He was a high school friend of my older brothers. He fell in love with me and offered to marry me in order for me to keep my daughter. Yes there was another option for me, but it would have been a lie. A lie to him. I could have married him, kept my child, and made all of us miserable because I did not marry him for the right reasons. It would have destroyed the love I genuinely do have for him.

No other person has ever made my heart smile and ache at the same time. I have never met a sharper wit, or one who was more spontaneous. Voted class clown in high school, he is a true master of comedy. Sometimes dark comedy, but dark has always been my favorite shade. He is an excellent writer, words truly are your forte. He taught me many things over the years, the most important being how to turn a bad thing around. I learned from a master.

He could have walked away from me and never looked back after my rejection of his offer, but he chose to stay. He stayed for another 40 years and counting. He has disappeared on me for lengthy periods of time (something that drove me crazy) but he always returned.

This last time I honestly thought he had moved on to the the next level. I had not heard from him in quite some time. But he's back. I found word of him on classmates.com. Seeing him again is so important to me that I left a message on my brothers site whom I have not spoken to for many years just to have one more conversation with this amazingly funny and lovable guy. This man who has earned and gained my trust. A man who I know in my heart I will see again because we are not finished with one another.

I no sooner found him and he was leaving again. We only had time for telephone conversations and a few brief emails but it was enough to exchange verses, slapsticks, and contact information. He called the other day and I was too busy with my kids to stay on the phone. We talked briefly but promised to talk again soon.

He called again today. He is headed back my way in November and we have made plans to see each other then. How I wish my daughter could get to know this man. One who was an intricate, positive part of my life. One who made an offer knowing that the love would be unbalanced in an attempt to spare me what he could not spare himself, the loss of a child. He too lost contact with his first born. I have not had a chance to ask him if he ever heard from her again, we have had so many other things to talk about in the short amount of time we get on the phone.

I want you to know you have been loved most of my life, far more than you will ever know. You have been missed all the time you were away. You have been prayed for, cursed at, (under my breath), and thought of more fondly than any other. I want to thank you for all you have given me and all you have offered that I refused to accept.

I loved you then, I love you now. I will love you next time we meet.

a friend by any other name.....

2008-10-14T11:54:00.000-07:00

Recently I recanted a story of a friendship lost to a new friend. It was a very hard story to write, especially since I was making an effort not to swear every other word. I surprised myself with the amount of venom I still harbored. I have to admit I was a little ashamed of myself for holding a grudge as passionately as I had. But when someone hurts you to the core-you carry that for a long time.

I won't bore you with the details of the saga, honestly, there is no way I have the energy nor patience to do it all over again. But it brought up a point that has been gnawing at me. TRUST. What exactly is that anyway? What traits in a person make you trust them? Or better yet-what flaw in my personality allowed myself to be subjected to such abuses from someone? We are not talking a couple of months here people, this went on for 20 years. Twenty years I hung in there, clinging to the idea that she was a true friend, she cared for me, that I could trust her.
Ends up, she was a leech and many had warned me about her. I, of course, defended her like it was purpose in life. I loved her. She used me. I ended it. She drug my name and life through the mud. Now I wanna kick her ass. But I won't, because she is not worth the effort I would put into it. Or the bail money-definitely not worth the bail money.

I have heard many say that adoptees in general have trust issues. But is that really true? Is it a trait widely found in adoptees or is it a learned response from life itself.
Maybe it's both.

As parents we abuse that trust. "DON'T TALK TO STRANGERS, JR." to "here honey, sit on Santa's lap" ( a big, urine smelling stranger in an obnoxious suit)

Is trusting someone really the basis for a good relationship? Or does it leave us open to potential doom?
How can we ensure we don't take the hurt out on someone else that is not connected to the betrayer? Or condem them for the evils of others?

Trust-such a little word with such a huge impact on our quality of life.

When you see what you want to see

2008-10-13T10:09:00.000-07:00

I just got off the phone with my mother. She called to see how I was doing with my new college class. I had not told her that I cancelled it, why would I, she made it sound like I was stupid for taking more classes. I want my bachelors degree and now seemed like a good time to get started on it. Well as the conversation went on we started talking about remembering things from our past. She asked me if I remembered taking a friend school shopping with us one year. No I don't remember that but supposedly the friend did remember and had recently repeated how spoiled I was to my niece, who of course repeated it to my mother. I don't think my niece meant anything by it, she was just repeating a story about a girl who came from such a large family that she rarely got new clothes. My mother offered to buy her something and the girl had never forgotten.

This is the same girl who has been here in my town a dozen times and never once called to say hello, or lets have coffee. The same girl whom I hung around with exclusively for a few years. The same girl who married well and divorced even better. Telling my niece how spoiled I was for getting new school clothes when she couldn't, and how wonderful my mom was for buying her a pair of shorts. I know that you are supposed to be grateful for what you get and remember the things people do for you, and I'm sure she really didn't mean for me to have my nose rubbed in it for getting so many clothes, but the way it came back to me was probably much different than the way it was originally said.

The part that no one wants to look at though is that she had 5 older sisters. Five, for crying out loud. Clothes could have been passed down. I had no sister, none, and at that particular time I had picked up eczema from somewhere and was put on steroids to relieve it. Steroids over a few months time turned a small framed girl into a chipmunk. My cheeks were so fat that I was unrecognizable. My clothes didn't fit at all. I couldn't wear one thing that was in my closet before the brain surgeon dermatologist put me on steroids. And I was always good at crossing things over into another outfit, not to mention that my mom got child support to pay for those cloth and if she didn't buy them my dad would have been all over her.

This girl came from a large in tact family, that was always an envy for me. What was happening to me was not happening to her. I was alone inside most of my growing up years, where she was running free, being a kid, having fun and living the childhood some of us could only dream of. She had the support of her father, mother, 5 sisters and 6 brothers. She had more clothes available to her on any given day than I had my whole teen years. She was constantly telling me I was spoiled and obviously still feels that way as she lives in her 3,000 sq. ft home with her beauty shop, manicured lawn and all the golf lessons her kids can take. She has done very well for herself but still sees me as a spoiled child.

Unbelievable, that she can't see what was happening to me. Her sisters know, and yet she still sees a spoiled girl. I would have given anything to be as poor as she was growing up, to have sisters to protect me, to have a mother and a father who cared about me. To have male relatives who acted like they were related instead of using me for practice and letting their friends do the same. Like I said she was probably repeating a small story that she remembered in a fond way yet by the time it got back to me, all I got was how spoiled I was. I had always known that my family was a bunch of surface dwellers. By that I mean, things look good on the surface. All the nasty stuff was hidden and obviously still is. I wonder what she would of thought if we had traded places for a while? Would she still be focused on all the clothes? Or would she of wanted to go home?

When you see what you want to see things look so much better.

The Other Shoe

2008-10-09T13:24:00.001-07:00

It's been a while since I have written anything but I haven't really had much to say. I have been lurking in my least favorite Internet hangout and was inspired by conversations of infertility. I want to write about that but not now. I want to share my feelings on something else.

I have been trying to get one of my units into a local school for almost 3 years now and think I have finally broken their will with my sheer determination. I am not going away any time soon and I think they realize that.

I was sent to the new Athletic Director to talk about a petri dish test that had to be done in order to prove that my unit was working. Now this man has known me for at least 5 maybe 6 years as he has been my boys teacher and coach. He has formed a bond with my one son and if I dare say doesn't care much for my other son. Which is okay, my other son doesn't care for him much either, and this teacher is no longer his coach so its all good.

I was talking to this man who has seen first hand what my units can do. He had one in his classroom last year. He was there for my presentation to the principle and told him he wanted two of them, which surprised me because when you live in a small town popularity contests exist everywhere and I lost out in one 3 years ago when I refused to leave the Superintendent's office. That was a long heated argument that didn't win me any teacher friends. They have to work there. But since he retired and died, (yes the man dies shortly after retirement) I have been a steady pain in the rear to the new Superintendent, Principle, and A.D.

Things looked good in the spring when school was getting out. There was to be a shelf put up to test my unit properly and everyone seemed interested. Well long story short, the shelf still has not been put up, but instead we found a make shift place to put it to test it out. Now keep in mind that school budgets come out in the spring. That's when they have money.

Well with the economy being what it is, and my business barely squeaking by because of the economy I felt the urge to gently nudge these people into not wasting any more time and getting the unit set up right away. If not I may be the next person to leave here and take my kids out of their school system. Not out of meanness but necessity. They have lost their share over the past year, year and a half and they need every student they can get.

I explained what I was looking for in the way of repeat business and the new A.D. actually wrote it down. No one had done that so far in my 3 year quest to outfit this school with my handy inventions. No I didn't invent them, but they are sweet.

So I'm thinking that I am really getting somewhere with this new A.D. who already knows me and my reputation. I'm thinking that I might be able to turn my finances around and go back to actually having a life not just an existence. With one kid in modeling school, one graduating this year, and a husband who wants to go pro on the natural body building circuit, I'm constantly stealing money from places I shouldn't and putting it in places I have no business putting it. For the first time in months I may see a glimmer of hope at the end of a very long dark tunnel.

Here it is folks, here's the punch line I have been building up to. What I refer to as the "other shoe". In case you are not familiar with the term it implies hitting the floor and simultaneously bursting your bubble and either sending you right back to where you were before or worse.

My son comes home from practice and says he has a message from the new A.D.
I sit down in anticipation, dollar signs flashing before my eyes, and he says. " The coach wanted me to tell you that if you have to move and I don't want to go, which I don't, he will adopt me for the next two years." I could hear the music from the shower scene in the movie Psycho repeating in my head. I had no words for what seemed like a very long time.

Finally I looked at my son and not wanting to over react I told him that although I know this mans heart is in the right place and he is only trying to offer something truly genuine, he used the WRONG WORD. My son looked at me and said "what adoption?" Yeah, adoption. There is no way in hell I am going through that again not even for two years. My son didn't say anything more about it. He knew I would not allow that unless I was in between a rock and a hard place. I have to admit it gets pretty tight at times but I always manage to pull the rabbit out of the hat.

Needless to say, days later I still can't shake the words. I even went so far as to see in my head CPS getting involved now that they know I am struggling. I envisioned this teacher using his position to twist my financial status and anything else he can to get his hands on my son.
I know in my heart that what he was offering was genuine. My son is a great athlete and has a great bond with his coach. The coach not only wants to keep the student but the athlete as well.

So I have to face this man again, probably tomorrow. I have to keep my composure and not let what was said interfere with getting these units into this school. I know what I have to do but I am afraid I will be unsuccessful at doing it. I have told the principle several times that because I have kids in the school system we need to keep our issues separate. Now I have to follow my own advise and I'm not sure I can look at this man the same any more. I am both flattered that he cares enough to offer, and offended that he would suggest such a thing all at the same time.

Waiting Arms

2008-09-24T07:25:00.000-07:00

This is a persons name. She left me a message on my post "I've been Inspired" about how offended she is that I would lie about another persons situation. She has accused me of going into http://www.twietconfetti.blogspot.com/ and twisting everything this woman was saying.

The problem I have with this isn't that she left a comment on my blog. As you can see I left it there. It is that when I ASKED, ASKED, for clarification, I got a very snotty reply and was guilty by association to my friend Cricket. Whom I did just talk to by the way. I do not agree that she blocked your response to me on her blog. I think she should have left it up, what ever it was, but it's her blog so there isn't much I can do about it. She thought you were mean and hateful. I find humor in that statement as everyone involved seems to claim Christianity.

I openly admitted that I was new to the whole religion thing and did not understand the statement about pancake breakfasts. I still don't understand. Not from her point of view. But I have talked to a hand full of Christians who are outraged by the statement made by the original poster wanting her church to step up and help her with her kids.

I tried three times to make my point, even posting something (which I can't remember now what it was) in reference to the people I find offensive. Oh I just remembered what it was. The girl who wanted an adoptee from some tribe who does piercings as part of their culture because it would match her own piercings. I sent that to her, and she still blocked it. I told her that if she really was doing what she says she's doing I applaud her for saving lives. BUT, I got no where with her. She refused to give me the common courtesy to explain why she felt the church needed to step up and help with her bills concerning these children whom she had labeled as orphans in one breath and disclaimed it in another by stating that the mother's weren't actually dead yet.

She quoted the bible as to how we are to take care of the widows and orphans and yet all the talk was of the younger children. I ASKED if there were no older kids to care for, to which she did in fact reply yes. That they had helped some of the older children too. At least I got an answer on that one. But instead of trying to help me to understand, she dismissed me because I was a friend to Cricket and told me to go talk to my pastor.

If you want to spread the word that the church should step up and help with these costs, you should not be offended by someone asking you why you feel that way. I was trying to see her point. I had no opinion one way or another on it, but was actually trying to form an opinion. Well long story short this woman has sparked something in me that I do plan to investigate further. Unfortunately her opinions and basis for thinking this way will not be part of my opinion on the subject because she eliminated herself from being allowed to discuss it with me. Maybe I would have supported her opinion, but you will never know now.

As to your remark about my drug addiction, I'm confused. I drank too much, realized it was a problem and that I do not drink alcohol well and did something about it. This was partly brought on by my surrender of my daughter but more so by the bad gene's that run in my blood. Not something I can do much about. I had a problem and I handled it all on my own. It hasn't been an issue for 20 some years. I fail to see the relevance in bring it up unless you are trying to dis-credit me with it. Good Luck with that one. Adopters drink too, so do Christians. Some way more than they should.

And I am totally confused by your remark to my daughters fathers family. What venom or viciousness is it you accuse me of in regard to them? The only thing I did was swallow a lot of fear and find the one man my daughter really wanted to meet. I had no idea what he was going to say, or how he was going to react to my call. As far as I can tell it all turned out better than it could have. Every reunion has it's bumps, something you would know nothing about, being as your children or your friends children or whomever's children will never experience reunion, for several obvious reasons.

Again I am ASKING to hear more on that. What have you misconscrewed in my reunion with my old friend and his family. He has one sister who is not interested in meeting my daughter. She is protective of their mother, justifiably so. If you knew anything about reunion you would understand that this is a normal behavior. But I would like you to clarify what it is you think you mean.

I will be really surprised if I get any further communication from you, but if you answer I will post it. Bottom line I TRIED, but was guilty by association. Cricket and I agree on very few things. It does not mean we can't be friends. We are great friends, with different opinions. CAN YOU AND YOUR CHRISTIAN FRIENDS SAY THE SAME????? I think not, and the both of you just proved it.

Just to be perfectly clear, I never intended to offend your friend but this is the Internet and inflection can be misconscrewed. I was ASKING because I was trying to understand. She ASSUMED that I felt the same way as Cricket. Your friend accused Cricket of not knowing her Bible, sorry not true.

Now I don't want to hear anything your friend has to say, and so far in my talks, with the Christians I know, neither do they. They all think she's bogus.

My mistake I did just re-read the post you are referring to about the fathers family. The jury is still out on that one. I didn't do anything wrong, Aunt D is the one with conflicting stories. Rachael sent me the message Aunt D sent to her and it is way different that what was sent to me. As far as I know there are still family members who are willing to meet my daughter, and her grandmother is more than receptive, I just haven't posted about that yet. We are still waiting to see what transpires. But the relationship between her father and Rachael could be better and it could be worse. As far as the rest of the family, these things just have to work them selves out. Again something you would know nothing about.

A CALL TO MIGHIGAN MOTHERS

2008-09-19T07:42:00.000-07:00

Although Rachael and I stay out of the mainstream of mud slinging against Adoptive Parents, and this might be misconscrewed as such, I want to make it perfectly clear that this particular piece is not about adoptive parents. This is about equal access for all American citizens. I intend no harm or hard feelings toward Adoptive Parents. I simply want all civil rights restored to those who have had the fortune or misfortune to be a part of an adoption. Adoption is no reason to be separated from your civil rights.

There are two bills in the house that pertain to Opened Records for adopted citizens. If you are a Michigan first parent and would like to write your legislator about your experience with adoption, how you were NOT promised anonymity, and how you WOULD like contact or already have contact with your child please do so soon. One of these bills is a contact veto. If passed as is this bill allows contact for certain and not all, adoptees.

Find out who your Michigan legislator is or email me and I will help you find out who your legislator is.

I am very much a novice at this, as you may also be, but I have access to some very wise women. It doesn't have to be long. All it needs is your experience and how you feel about contact with your child and the fact that you were not promised anonymity.

All citizens should have access to their information, not just the non-adopted.

I just received a message

2008-09-14T20:38:00.000-07:00

I know that my daughter and I are not a package deal in regard to her reunion. We have had this conversation a few times and if anyone has been keeping up with our ramblings you know that my daughter had turned the reunion table on me. By this I mean that since she hasn't gotten as much contact with her father as she had liked and I seemed to be getting more contact than she had, she offered to gracefully back out of my reunion with my old friend. How weird and screwed up is that?

Rachael's Aunt D recently went into Classmates and posted that she was looking for me. I reinstated my account with them to be able to get back in touch with her and put her in touch with Rachael after a year of no contact. All seemed to be moving along fine. They had been emailing back and forth a little and it all seemed good. I've had more activity on my account this time around in three weeks than I had in the three months it was active last time around. Most of the people who bothered to leave their name I do not know. I assumed that since they all had Aunt D as a friend she was sending them to view the picture of her new found niece. I was flattered and I told her so in an email. I have had 91 visits total with 38 signatures. Three of whom I remembered.

Her sister had recently opened an account with classmates, so I thought maybe I should send a quick hello along to her as well. I got no reply.

In the mean time Rachael noticed that when she gets messages from aunt D she had Rach listed with her family name, in other words her fathers last name. Odd but okay. Maybe it is so she can remember who she is.

I recently posted an awareness message on one of classmates bulletin boards in reference to opened records. I don't feel ready to take on the government just yet but I thought I could handle putting a message out there and asking for peoples opinions on it. That was days ago and I got 4 responses from 2 people. It seems talking about an imaginary hay ride is more up their alley.

I asked aunt D if she could go to this message board and give her opinion on opened records since she seems to want to be part of Rachael's life. I also told her that I had sent a message to her sister and gotten no response. I was wondering if I should leave it alone or try again. I got two different responses.

The first was asking me just what I wanted her to do on the message board. She asked if I was intending to change Rachael's last name. Why would she even think that? Besides, I couldn't change Rachael's last name if I wanted to. If I could get it changed on her birth certificate I would, and I doubt that her father would argue it. I used a false name on the adoption papers, but the agency didn't seem to have a problem with that. So if anyone wants to come after me for falsifying an official document, good luck.

Second message, (sigh) was asking me to leave her sister alone. Stating that she had already told me that her sister wants nothing to do with my daughter or this whole situation and that if I persist it will cause an uproar within the family. Everyone knows that her brother has found his daughter and although they are happy for him they feel that this should be enough. She stated that she doesn't know what I am looking for but I need to keep it between Rachael and her father and not the rest of the family. She also stated that the sister who doesn't want anything to do with this situation is the spokes person for Rachael's grandmother and what she says pretty much goes. She said that she had already told Rachael that if she wanted to get in touch with her grandmother she needed to send cards and letters. That is not exactly what Rachael relayed to me that her Aunt D had to say about the whole thing. I remember something very different. I don't remember her telling me to stay away from the sister. And it sounds now like Rachael has all but lost her relationship with her grandmother.

My heart is broken. I was there when all the talk was flying about getting together with the rest of the family. I heard the plans being made to go fishing at the cottage. I didn't expect it to happen, I didn't expect to be included, but I heard the invites. Hell my husband and my kids were invited. I remember her grandmother saying how silly it was of us not to come find her 8 years ago to get in touch with Rachael's father. Now it's between Rachael and her father only? One huge family lost before it was even found. The grandmother who was so excited about getting to know her son's only child is being guarded by the family watch dog, and I'm rocking the boat all of a sudden. No more calls? Only cards? What kind of contact is that? What happened to your one of us no matter what?

SABBATH?

2008-09-07T18:39:00.001-07:00

Today was an interesting day. For the first time in-ummm-to be honest I dont remember, we attended church. It's been at least 10 years, because my husband has never been with me. Now I was raised Lutheran, a rather lax denomination. We are not known for being passionate or loud. We do not raise our hands and sings praise at the top of our lungs. There is no incense burning or ashes on our foreheads. We go in, sit down in our Sunday finery and listen. We obediently stand, sit and sing on cue.
Back in my young years I was very active. I was an acolyte, in the choir (jr and regular), youth groups, church camp every year, Sunday school and confirmation. My life was formed around it, it was a second nature to me.

I don't know when or how it happened, but I grew up and church was left behind. I got myself into one problem after another, I was living a 'fast' life with no time for worship.
As I grew up more and became a young mother, I met my first husband. He was a nice enough guy at the time. He still is. We were able to maintain a very friendly relationship. But as the time grew near and we decided to marry, we decided to make more of an effort to re-join the church. He was raised Catholic, but was not an active participant. My boring little Lutheran church suited him just fine.
This made his mother very angry. Being a Catholic Italian, she was very vocal of her disapproval. I learned within the first few months of being with him that I would never live up to her expectations, so her shrieks of anger didn't phase me.

So husband #1 and I started attending and taking the classes required to be married in that church. This was the church I was raised in, my family was raised in, all the way back to the churchs beginning. Which was 200 years. It was MY church, and I loved it.
We had a newer pastor at the time, he was older, but new to the 'calling', he started preaching in his late 40s. I was unfamiliar with him but welcomed the chance to meet someone new and his perspective on things. I was starting to get my old faith back. I was on the path to leaving much of the self pollution I was doing behind me. It was my next step to making myself a better person and I was able to bring my soon to be husband and my young daughter with me.

At first the classes were long and boring. We were just getting to know each other, although he knew my family, I was a stranger to him. It was rather uncomfortable to speak of personal things and experiences, but I was determined to get back on track. I could do this, I was confident.
Then something went wrong, terribly, terribly wrong. And it left me empty and lost more then I had ever felt before.

We went to our class as usual one sunny afternoon and sat with him in his office. He asked questions about our families. I was raised by Ward and June Cleaver and he knew that. They were members and he had known them for a couple of years by this time.
Pastor turns to soon to be hubby and says "tell me about your life with your mother and father...."
He tried to explain how his life was, but to be honest-he had limited exposure living with his parents. Most of his life was spent living with his grandparents. Not for any reason, he was just very close to them and that was his home.
While he struggled to find words to sum up his parents, I stepped in to try to help. I said, "but you were never there at home." Meaning he didn't live with his parents. I was trying to take some heat off the man, but it back fired.
Pastor slapped his palms on the desk and jumped up. "ha!!! thats what i'm talking about!! right there, right out of your mouth!! i knew it!!"
Soon to be hubby and I were shocked to say the least. I looked at that man as if he were utterly insane. "what are you talking about? you knew what?" I demanded. The answer I got was mind blowing.
"you said 'but you are never home' you said it yourself, you aren't even making it as a couple now, how will you function when you are married? it can't be done"

Of course I made every effort to explain that was not what I said, I tried desperately told him he misunderstood, I even moved to the side his hearing aid was in and tried to talk to him there. He refused to listen. He shook his head furiously and just kept saying over and over "I HEARD YOU!!! I HEARD YOU!!!!"
It was hopeless, and finally I gave up. The conversation turned very sour after that. Not only did he throw in my face the miscommucation we had, but he started in about my sister. She had been divorced for about a year at this time and it was an awful, messy rollar coaster that almost destroyed her and our family.
I was appalled to hear her name come up. Who was he to judge her? Who was he to make a mockery of her heartache and pain? Who was he to say SHE was the failure in that relationship? Who was he to tell her business, even if it was to me. Who else had he spoken to about her and her problems?

All I could do was sit there and stare, with my mouth open. I was stunned into speechlessness. Anyone that knows me AT ALL knows this is virtually impossible. I always have something to say.
Then he went over the edge, he brought my daughter into it. He talked of her damnation because of my sins in her conception. He told me how God felt about my fall from grace. He preached to me of my own emminent demise. "God DOES NOT forgive people like you. You will go to hell no matter what you do in life."
I honestly felt my stomach sink into my feet. My head swam with the words. My mouth went dry and my knees went watery. I began to shake, shutter is a better term. The fury set in and I gripped my hands together tightly in my lap. I was afraid if I didn't I would stand and hurt him. I truly thought I was going to blast him out of his chair.
I clenched my jaws to keep from saying anything that would hurt my situation any further.

When I regained my composure enough to open my mouth I told him he was out of line. My sister was none of his business, my daughter was a gift from God (he did create her, right?) and I could not listen to any more of his lecture.
I must have offended him, because then he started to get red in the face. First he chastised me for 'blaming' God for my sick and twisted sins and sexual perversion leading up to my daughters birth. He shook as he talked. He said I was responsibile not God. He was sick and tired of people putting blame on God for their screw ups.
Then I got the hear the threats that he was not going to allow us to be married in "his church".
He said that church belonged to him and he had control over it. If he said no-then there would be no wedding there. "besides, you don't come often enough OR donate enough through offering to justify a church wedding."

All about the money I guess. Money and power. He had power over me and my future life, he loved every minute of it.

Needless to say, by the time we left I was a complete basket case. My quickly approaching wedding (which we already had the hall and invites printed, along with the programs for the ceromony) was now hinged on the mood of this man. My family's privacy was possibly being infringed upon by him openly disrespecting my hurting sister. My place in heaven was thrown out the window with no hope of repair. My pocketbook was not large enough to suit his satisfaction and I was a poor christian for not giving more money. My daughter would never amount to anything because of the sins I commited.
I spirled out of control. My plan to get on the right path and get back into the church was gone. My commitment to cleaning up my self destructive behavior was tainted. Alcohol and drugs took over again in my life. Any faith I had was completely gone. I was going to hell no matter what, so I may as well live it up while I was still kicking.

So you can see why church was not a place I wanted to be. Lori has tried and tried over the years to get me more open to the idea. I smiled and thanked her for her concern, but never had any intention of following up on it.

But things change. My views are about the same, but my daughter and her friend have been pushing me to come with them to a new church here in town. It used to be a very popular night club and they converted into a non demonination church. It seemed different, it sounded very focused on the next generation and I have to admit, I was curious.
So we gave in and went today. The whole family plus a couple others loaded up in our van and off we went. I was leery, but open to try anything at this point in my life. The last few years have been crushing for me. The weight on my shoulders has been devastating.

Imagine my surprise when I walked in to a D.J. spinning records in the middle of the room. A pastor that does not shake hands but hugs. An hour of fast paced upbeat music sung by a former back up singer to a very popular and well known R&B artist.
Then the guest speakers started, they belted out raps to chest bumping bass about asking for help, being there for each other and living a life the best you can.
Hands were raised high, people were dancing in the aisles, people were shedding tears of pure joy.

I was by no means comfortable. I was awed by the passion that oozed from every corner of the room. I watched in mild confusion as people held hands over their heads and yelped in happiness.
This was more of a party then traditional worship. I felt like a fish out of water. But secretly I kind of liked it. My husband stood, clapped and raised his hands in the air. He was not comfortable either, but he was gonna try with all his might. It made me smile.

My daughter cried and asked if I would be returning, I smiled meekly and shrugged. I don't know if this is the place for me. I don't know if I have suffered enough in life to be re-considered for salvation. I don't know if I completely buy into all this God stuff-yet. But I am going to try. Maybe this is what I need, something totally out of my element, against the grain. Maybe these people are just out of their minds.
Maybe I'll go back-or not.

I still have a physical reaction when I remember the venom my former pastor subjected me to. That tells me my faith may not be as far away as I thought, otherwise I simply wouldn't care. But I do. (shhhhh......don't tell anyone-I have a reputation to uphold!!! LOL!)