DNA Diaries

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.....

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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....

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.