DNA Diaries

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.

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.

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

Nope no adoption trauma here. Its all good.

The fact that they even call this adoption is appalling.


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

Quote


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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

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

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.....

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.

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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Off my soap box now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BUT.......

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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



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



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

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


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



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



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



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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How unbelievable awesome is that?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Any thoughts?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Am I on the right track?

Am I wrong?

Do I live in a fantasy world?

Is my reunion a farce?

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

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

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

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

Do you think the system is broken? Why?

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

Am I missing something? What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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