The Bitter Sweetness Of My Tears.  

Friday, August 13, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Blood Siblings having Children  

Monday, May 31, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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A Fiercest Competition  

Monday, May 24, 2010

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.

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The Fox Are Gone  

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

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

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

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

Maybe winter will bring the fox back to my door.

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Michigan Bills HB4006 and HB4015  

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Utah, and Baby Emma  

Saturday, April 17, 2010

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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Inernational Drama  

Friday, April 9, 2010

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.

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.

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Fox at My Door update  

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

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

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

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

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Milk Duds  

Monday, April 5, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Sunday, April 4, 2010

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

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Latest Visit  

Friday, April 2, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

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

Already thinking about next time.

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Testimony in front of Lansing Legislators  

Thursday, March 25, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Update On Vanessa's Story  

Monday, March 22, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Searching For Her Family Part 3  

Sunday, March 21, 2010

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

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

PART 3:;

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Searching For Her Family Part 2  

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

Part 2:

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Searching For Her Family Part 1  

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

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

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

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


The horrifying story of Vanessa - Latest Breaking News, Big News.

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And The Loser Is  

Friday, March 19, 2010

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

So you know the drill, Go back to sign in and find what ever is next in the way of adoptee rights and sign the petition.

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

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

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

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

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Need Votes Now  

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

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

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

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

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Wolves in Sheeps Clothing  

Saturday, March 6, 2010

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

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

But that's not my point.

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

That is my point.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Try This Link  

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

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

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

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A Call To Vote  

Return Adult Adoptees the right to their Original Birth Certificates

Ideas for Change in America

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

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

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

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Wednesday, February 24, 2010
I'm sure to most this is a warm heart felt few moments that truly depict surrender. But here's what I see.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks for the flashback.

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

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

Nope no adoption trauma here. Its all good.

The fact that they even call this adoption is appalling.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Fox at My Door  

Monday, February 22, 2010

This is totally off subject but I wanted to share.

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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

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.

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 within the story. Please sign today.

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Partners of Adoptee's  

Thursday, February 11, 2010

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.

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Spreading the word  

Monday, February 8, 2010

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.....

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My Kid is Cracking Me Up.  

Saturday, February 6, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love you T. Hang in there.

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Daddy's lil's your name?  

Saturday, January 23, 2010

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.

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Emotional Juggling with Jim....  

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. 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.

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Some New Links  

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.

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Marketing is a part of everything.  

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

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

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

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Elephant in the room and other holiday cheer.  

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

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.

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