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 change.org 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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