DNA Diaries

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Off my soap box now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.