Denial of loss


10 years ago I wouldn’t have understood this to the depth that I understand it now, and for that I am grateful. Ten years ago this would have hurt me tremendously and I probably would have withdrawn into a wall building adoptee hiding comfort zone and disappeared from my mother for a few months until I felt strong enough to say hello again. Today tho, the only part of it that weakens me is the reality of what she has to do to keep going on, and what a reflection that is of how she has had to do it her entire life after losing me.

 

In July my grandfather passed away. My mother has been taking care of him for the last 5 years of his life. I get mixed feelings from his passing, he was a crucial influence in me being left behind at the hospital 3 days after my birth and its hard for me to let go of that. I did meet him once however and it was a nice comforting visit. He was a very strong man, remembered for decapitating men in Vietnam war and eating raw liver, one of the last things I remember him telling me is the wise men say the least and listen most. He said this to me after I sat around him very quiet observing his every move.

 

Now that he has passed away my mother has come out to my area to plan his services and is here for a few weeks to make sure it all goes smoothly and to visit my children and me. We sat around the table at our visit that I blogged about yesterday and I noticed more than once my mother made reference to never experiencing a pain like that of losing her father since her brother died and then her…. and each time she got to “her” her eyes would meet mine and I “know” she was going to say “her daughter” but she would catch herself and stop. She doesn’t speak of her loss of me.

 

Ten years ago I would have felt like that meant my loss wasn’t significant enough to mention. That it didn’t impact her life in the way these other two deaths had, and that I wasn’t a big “loss” when we parted ways on my third day of life. Today however, I know that means something very different. I know that society doesn’t recognize a mother surrendering her child and continuing on with life as a painful experience. I know that that loss, when spoken of is often met with “what a selfless act, what a wonderful thing you’ve done, how incredible of you to have done that” which in return suppresses that pain even deeper.

 

I can relate to this. I did it for years when faced with adoption related topics or topics of loss, because my mother did all of that FOR me to have a better life, what a selfless thing for her to do and I must be so very grateful for that opportunity at a better life. It FEELS BETTER for outsiders to believe that. Hell it feels better for insiders to believe it until the truth finds its way out and eventually it always does. I mean that’s really the core of being in the Koolaid drinking happy adoptee land, you’re believing the happy myths…. that surrendering you was wonderful, well you might not be “believing them” because your soul doesn’t lie to you, deep down you know it hurts, but you’re saying them, maybe even convincing yourself of them or trying very hard to, because should you realize that reality isn’t reality at all, suddenly “reality” becomes very scary and vulnerable.

 

What would have happened if instead of pausing when my mother wanted to tell the waiter that she hasn’t experienced a loss like this since she lost her daughter, how would he have reacted? Would he have assumed I was dead? Would he have empathized with her? Would he have recognized it as a loss and told her how sorry he was for her loss? I believe these to be viable outcomes had this happened. Humor me for a moment and imagine what would have happened if she had then told him, she hasn’t felt a loss like this since she loss her daughter to adoption. Would she have been met with the same empathy? Maybe from you or me, because we’re reading adoption blogs and up to “par” on adoption loss but the average stranger… no, no I don’t believe she would have found that sympathy. Instead the suppressive rhetoric begins doesn’t it? Oh you gave a daughter up for adoption? How wonderful of you!! OMG you’re a birthmom how selfless!!!! What a heroic act of kindness you did!!! Immediately invalidating the tremendous loss that would follow a mother losing her child to adoption regardless of how that “choice” came to be…. pain is what it is.

 

It reminds me of growing up…often I would get depressed thinking about why my parents gave me up and I’d almost be ready to reach out to someone about it and as soon as I’d say how I was adopted i’d hear ” oh you’re so lucky I always wanted to be adopted! ” “how nice of your mom to give you a better life” “you must be so grateful you weren’t aborted” its the same kind of suppressive “support” I spoke of in reference to my mother above. It has to be societies way of not understanding this in-depth reality we find in adoption and their poor attempt to “get it.” I don’t feel like they have bad intentions in saying these things but they just do… because it’s all over the media, its in all the magazines, its in the adoption agencies this false propaganda of happiness following separation and loss its polluting reality.

 

I see it happening with people who have had miscarriages or found out they’re living a life with infertility. I personally have never been in that shoe, I have 3 natural children of my own, but I watch it happen to them. It happened to my adoptive parents, as SOON as infertility was discovered ADOPTION was pushed. Why? Adoption doesn’t cure infertility. Adoptees don’t “fix” the loss of not having children of your own. The two aren’t connected and yet society just doesn’t get it or want to hear it because they haven’t before and its easier to make all that “ugly” “uncomfy” “icky” feelings be portrayed as minor problems that can be fixed with adoption….and yet….they can’t be.

 

It’s okay to feel pain from loss, in fact it’s very healthy to, and it’s just as okay to own those feelings, talk about those feelings and correct people when they misinterpret those feelings, they are YOUR feelings. I know that for a long time I tried to drink that kooliad, I wanted that bullshit fake “omg you were so lucky to be adopted” to be true, I wanted to be lucky…but when you spend a lifetime trying to convince yourself that pain = happiness destructive patterns are bound to happen and that can be very dangerous. If you are one of these people who are having to hide your pain from the average Joe because you’d rather not “go there” with the ignorant…I get it…and I feel you. If you’re living a life where people are continually telling you to be grateful about something that hurts so bad you could scream in frustration from the highest mountain…I get it…I feel you…and I’m sorry. I’m here for you. Don’t be afraid to own your truth. Its yours and nobody can take it from you. The more you speak out about it, the more we can fix this broken part of the industry, the more we can make the road smoother for those who walk down it after us and the more we can help each other heal….god willing…we might even prevent it one day ❤

You left me


( Disclaimer: there are many mothers who have surrendered their children to adoption that read this blog, or have in the past who knows if anyone reads it now. However this isn’t about your surrender, or situation it’s about mine so don’t read on or take it personal when I’m reflecting on my anger today in regards to being surrendered to adoption. )

Aside from all of the work I have done, and in the last few years I have done a ton, aside from everything I know….everything in these pages that leads to why I am anti adoption, I get it all, I know it all…I feel it all, I understand and process it all in a somewhat healthy way I’d say…aside from it all….there is that tiny part of me, that still….34 years later looks at my natural mother and feels….you left me. If your love for me was everything you say it was…. If I was enough for you, you would have kept me.

I know there are reasons, I know there are excuses, I know there were circumstances that didn’t allow her too. I know many people didn’t want to lose their children to adoption, I know some of you fought very hard for it…. but at the end of it all… this lil fragile ball of a feeling inside of me…. it doesn’t go away.

If I was enough for you, you would have kept me. By any means necessary.

Because that’s what I would do for my children.

I look at parents who don’t parent, and I see weakness. I see giving up, and I am very turned away by it. The father of my children has chosen a life of drugs and prison instead of being a healthy fit role model father. All I see is weakness. Weakness in addiction, weakness in parenthood, all around weakness.

My mother has been visiting the area for a week now, she just called me today finally for the first time. My response: if your mother was in your town for a week and didn’t call you until 8 days later how would you feel? weakness.

I am not by any means a perfect parent, and yet I would never do these things to my children. I would never give up my rights to them ( yes I know some of you never had a choice and I’m not bashing you for that, this is my situation ) I’m tired of hearing that God influenced our separation and if God willing we’ll be brought together again with all the time we need to be a part of each others lives. I’m sick of waiting for higher powers to act upon my life when its gotten me nowhere in the past, I do things with my own two feet and hands and those who don’t…. are weak.

Anyone who can leave their child ( other than by force ) and let her go FUCK YOU.

That’s how I feel today. Take it or leave it. I don’t care. FUCK YOU for leaving your kids and letting us grow up and pick up our own pieces. fuck you for not raising us. fuck you for turning me into a weak people pleaser for a huge part of my life because I was terrified any person I grew close to would leave me. FUCK YOU FOR THAT.

So I replied to her… that I was hurt. I’m sick of being on the back-burner ALWAYS since I was 3 days old. That my children and I deserve time, and priority and if she doesn’t give it to us….I’m done. I want out. I found my mother, I know my mother but i’m grown up now and if she wants time in my life, she’s going to make it and prioritize it because I will be damned if my children grow up feeling insignificant too.

Been a while since I posted, but I haven’t had anything adoption related to really put into words on my blog. I’m starting to do a lot of inner healing atm, yoga and life coaching and holistic therapy…..its bound to ripple the water here soon.

I hope everyone had an amazing summer, thank you for reading and commenting. I’m really not sorry if this pisses anyone off… this is how I feel and this is my blog and I’m not going to tip toe for anyone….I’ve given that up this year.

Mothers Day


Mothers day…. I dislike this day a ton. In my own family ( I have 3 daughters ) I feel like mothers day should be everyday! And my daughters ( the ones who can talk beyond babbling 😛 ) are really good at appreciating me and each other. They do tell me they love and appreciate me on a daily basis and I feel so fortunate that I have such amazing kids.

I remember when I was pregnant with my first daughter, I was at my amothers house on mothers day and was cooking her dinner and my daughters father gave ME a mothers day card. We didn’t have any born children yet, but in 4 months I was due with our first. My amom laughed and quickly silenced my enjoyment telling me it WASN’T my first mothers day, motherhood came from parenting your child, not merely growing one in your belly…I’ll never forget that laugh. It was so dismissive. It took every bit of joy I had in me and just killed it. We ended up arguing about it right there at the table.

“Carrying a baby is no easy task!” I shouted, “and I’ll have you know that the baby grows more in utero then any other time in his/her life! and she’s doing it INSIDE OF ME!” I continued “Its no easy task, everything about me is different and I’m sacrificing everything for her LIFE!!!”

Shortly after I got up and walked out.

My daughter was born a healthy 7lbs even and 21 inches long at 1:29 am that September.  I held her and stared at her all night. counted and recounted her toes, sang her happy birthday as the sun came up, never fell asleep, I just gazed at her for hours. The nurses would come in and try to take her to the nursery ( what a joke )so I could rest but soon they realized the closer they came my guard dog like traits would soon show their teeth and after the 2nd day they backed off quite a bit.

The following mothers day, I was two months pregnant with my second child. Nobody knew except their father and me. Silly me I thought telling my amom the great news on mothers day would be a wonderful surprise. I was in her garage, we were walking in from just getting home and as I walked in behind her I told her I had some really great news…we’re having another baby!!!!!!!! Her face went blank. She walked out of the room and went upstairs…I followed. First words out of her mouth….”you don’t even have a savings account. You need to be looking into abortion, or giving it to a family who deserves a baby…”

I look back on that moment now and I can see this wasn’t my mother, this was miss-counseled infertility pain and brainwashing by the adoption industry. In the moment tho…those were fighting words. I passed my daughter to her father and asked him to go buckle her in the car seat. We were leaving. He did. I stayed upstairs. I informed her that if she ever suggested I give my child away to adoption, let alone kill it in an abortion clinic I would never speak to her again, and at this time I didn’t know when I could stomach speaking to her ever. I left. We didn’t talk for the remainder of my pregnancy.

After my daughter was born at 9:19 pm at the birthing center, I called her around 11pm. Told her she was born, a healthy 8.5 pounds, 20 inches long, and beautiful and I hung up.

I was so mad at my amother for years for what she did to me on those two mothers days. BTW she doesn’t remember either of them, has 0 recollection of them at all. I’ve tried to go back and get some resolution on them and in her mind those days do not exist. I can’t explain it but its like she completely wiped them from her memory. I was SO MAD at her for months, it was eating me alive…how my own mother could suggest I surrender a child when at that time she damn well knew how much I hated adoption, and then suggest I have an abortion…that hurt more then I can even put into words. Its easier when a stranger suggests it to you, but my mother… bleh.

My two daughters are now 7 and 8. I’d like to say I’m more mature, but maybe they’ve just taught me patience with or without my consent. lol. I feel like I can step out of the OMFG YOU JUST TOLD ME TO SURRENDER MY DAUGHTER TO ADOPTION I BAN YOU TO HELL FOR LIFE mode, and enter the…OMFG THE INDUSTRY REALLY BRAINWASHED YOU TOO mode.  That wasn’t my mother speaking to me, that was the lies she was told by the industry and bought because it felt so good to hear. Idk what it feels like to not be able to have children of your own, being told you deserve them must be sort of soothing. I can’t imagine what it feels like, I can try to, and I have but I’ve never been and will never be there. I am done having kids. I have my 3 that I wanted and I didn’t even have to “try” for them, it’s a joke in my family that my partners pee and I get pregnant… *rolls eyes* I’m not typing that to wave my fertility in anyone’s face, I’m just shouting out clearly I have never been there. To pretend to know what it feels like would only be an insult to people who walk in those shoes. I’m sure mothers day, for a women who’s been trying to have children for years and can’t…isn’t very fun either. Nor is it fun for the mother who lost her child to adoption, … see how it comes full circle. Fuck this day.

So what am I going to do to get passed all of this…baggage that I associate on this stupid day? Celebrate my children, and especially on every other day of the year, teach them that we don’t need stupid holidays to appreciate one another. Tomorrow is never promised, if we feel love and appreciation for someone, we need to tell them NOW and in that moment because we don’t know how long we have to tell them. I’m going to call my natural mother on Sunday and probably sob for an hour into her ear and tell her how much I love her. Then I’m going to feel icky and go to my amoms house for dinner that her and my daughters are cooking for me because something in me fears mothers day and my amothers house now…. even after all these years. Nevertheless i’ll put a smile on my face, push the fear away and go and hope it turns out good like the last few have.

I hope this day is survivable for any readers who are reading this. I think I’ll go escape for the rest of my night into video games lol ( yep…i’m a mom who games 😛 ) guildwars2 BRING IT!

Raw post-reunion emotions….just gut me already


I found my mother on November 22, 2001. A week before that I had found my aunt, cousin, and Father, along with his wife and my 3 1/2 siblings. Nobody on my father’s side of the family except his sister knew about me. I was the secret and I literally came knocking at his door. It never occurred to me that he wouldn’t have told them about me, in the midst of all the secrecy surrounding my adoption I had created this coping mechanism dream like “hope” that he’d fought for me and had been looking for me all these years, in fact I would play at the end of my driveway and stare at all the cars going by when I was little hoping one day it would be him.

I hated women growing up and even more scary is the fact that I felt they all hated me even more. Teachers, my amother, any female authority figure paid the price for my mother leaving me. Surrounding myself with male friends I was the ultimate tomboy. Although I had many chasing me, I always chose the losers who never treated me right. The ones I could play mother too and try hopelessly and fail at “fixing.”

The summer of 2002, I was on my adoptive families annual camping trip. anywhere from 20-50 of my cousins, aunts, uncles etc. go up to this lake every summer and camp, rent cabins, hike, backpack, fish and read 203459820459 books for around 2-3 weeks. We feast, we drink, we spend everyday outside, and every evening around the campfire telling stories, reflecting on our year and usually drink far too much and regret saying a few things the next morning.

I was VERY raw after reunion. Please understand, I found the perfect woman when I found my mother. She is flawless. My mother to this day, is the closest women to perfect I have ever known. She regrets ever surrendering me, it ruined her life, and she blames herself entirely for it. My mother is beautiful in every way, her faith, her strength, her sacrifices, her whole presence motivates me to be better and do more for others…my mother is like mother nature and that woman from the Bible proverbs 31:10-31…that is HER. o.o Only she’s more than that…she listens to me, she cares so much about me, she is so like me…finding her sent me into a spiral of emotional diarrhea, it was out of control. Here I thought reunion would fix all of these feelings and yet it only made them more intense.

So here we are…margarita night at my families camping trip, I’ve just turned 22, and returned from Hawaii where I spent the 22nd birthday literally on the beach of Hawaii having a sunrise breakfast with my natural mother. Eating our favorite foods and appreciating every ray of sun that crept over the ocean and mountains. I was in this…state of such vomit. I don’t know what else to call it but vomit. Because one minute I was so happy and the next with the flip of a switch I would be sobbing for everything I lost with her, and the next I was furious at adoption, yet not grasping the exact “whys” of hating the industry but knowing downright I hated it and everything that went along with it and the next I’d be okay again. I was very vulnerable, very raw.

Going into reunion I didn’t have any steps to it. I didn’t know much about how it would affect me, I didn’t have a big support group, and wasn’t too into adoption world online then. I had no idea how it would affect me emotionally and what feelings it would bring to my surface.

Like every year, my family invited numerous friends up to join us for our festivities in the wilderness. The adoptive family is really amazing, they have this incredible way of wanting to always touch people’s lives by bringing them into the mountains, so that they too can learn and appreciate the serenity that happens up there. Its one of the greatest gifts they have given me. Teaching me to let go and just listen to the wind in the aspens its something I hear now when I meditate at home. It is my safe place, when I go inside myself, I picture myself in the wilderness at that lake, and I find peace.

Where was I…oh yes the campfire. Here we are around the campfire, my afather has gone to bed, all of the “parent” generation Is sleeping and here I am at a campfire with oodles of cousins and their friends all around their 30’s and I’m in my early 20’s and we’ve all been drinking quite a bit. My cousin and I start talking about it, just the two of us, and before I know it i’m sobbing at the campfire. Before long everyone starts to notice and they all get quiet and begin to listen in on our conversation. I am the only adopted one at this fire. They are all outsiders, haven’t adopted, aren’t adopted, and to my knowledge never surrendered.

So they all start chiming in somewhere around “I FUCKING HATE ADOPTION, I HATE EVERY PART OF IT!!!!” I’m sure you can imagine their reactions. My cousins friend chimes in ( turns out they were looking to adopt, her husband who sat next to her at the fire is infertile.) Why would anyone hate adoption? Now I’m just going to point this out, if anyone reading this, happens to stumble across an adoptee newly into reunion feeling anger towards adoption just let them have their anger. It’s not an insult to you. It’s not a threat to you. It might be directed to you but ONLY because you happen to be in the way of the industry lol. LET US OWN OUR ANGER. I promise you, promise you promise you, it will settle one day. We won’t be running around with butcher knives and killing anyone who has adopted. Let the anger be ours. We have a right to it. We have been hurt.

So this chick…questions why in the hell I would be against adoption. And I start telling her about the industry and child trafficking and I’m getting looks like they think I’m some Goddamn alien who has just fallen out of the sky and needs to be restrained into a straight jacket. I’m mad that she questioned me. How DARE SHE. I ask her WHY WOULD I BE FOR ADOPTION? and I believe I called her an idiot somewhere in there… we go at it…and in the midst of it all I realize I don’t have concrete statistics and facts to back up my feelings. That I haven’t done enough research but I knew in my heart things were wrong, but that wasn’t good enough for this bitch I wanted to throw in the fire for eavesdropping onto my emotional release and then questioning it.

I’ll never forget how silent it got when she shouted back to me that I was the most ungrateful child she had ever met. My mother gave me up, that was the end of it, my relationship ended with her there. The fact that I’d even searched was an insult to my adoptive parents, and the fact that I sat at a fire speaking of how much I hated adoption should have gotten me disowned. I was supposed to be happy and grateful, and we do know the alternative…I could have been aborted. How dare I feel like something was missing.

It was like everything stopped. Her words echoed and everyone seemed to slow down as their heads all turned to me to see what I was going to do. At this point in my life, they knew I was violent, and I was, I’m not proud of it, but its a truth of my past. Bar fights were common for me, bloody knuckles were frequent but it was never my blood, always the girls I was on top of. I watched my cousin’s hand immediately take the margarita glass out of my reach and move the beer bottles just as I was looking to pick one up to throw at the loud mouth.

My cousin went to her friend, and suggested she stop and let me vent and maybe just go to bed. Before she could leave, I stood up and screamed a loud FUCK YOU BITCH. I didn’t go any further tho. I sat down and sobbed. I think that was my turning point. That moment right there is when I had had enough. That moment Is when I knew I would never let another person suppress my feelings, and I would go home back to my city when this trip was over and I would find every statistic, every fact and every other adoptee in the universe that felt like me so that next time some twat wanted to challenge my beliefs dammit I’d give them a challenge.

We don’t always have the answers to why things hurt us. Here I sit 10 years later, a mother to 3, a much different lifestyle and I’m starting to feel like… we don’t always need those answers either. If it hurts us, it can’t be good and that should be enough for people to see that changes need to happen. That should be enough for people to want to find the changes, and find the answers and make the future better and to help prevent generations of pain upon our people. When an adoptee is hurting… shame on ANYONE for trying to suppress that pain. How dare they! When someone is hurting you don’t shush them, even if you don’t understand why, you sit with them, listen, and let them release it so that they can continue to grow and heal. THAT is what people should be doing to adoptees. There WOULDN’T be this many speaking out about pain, if pain didn’t exist from it.

Now I realize those who do it, like the bitch at my campfire, might be ignorant on the subject, might have their own connection ( wanting to adopt because they can’t have babies of their own ),but selfishly I’ll be the first to raise my hand and say I don’t care about their problems. Am I silencing them? Am I doing exactly to them what I’m saying not to do to adoptees? Sort of. However, I didn’t volunteer to enter this industry. I was put here against my will and supposedly this whole “act of god” we’ll call adoption was done for my benefit. ME. Not the couple wanting a baby, not the pregnant woman or idiotic father who didn’t even admit I was his until we met at a restaurant 21 years later. It was done for me and every other adoptee out there as well. So if we’re jumping up and down saying THIS IS HURTING ME. Listen the hell up. Quit trying to tell US how to feel.

Feelings are a process, healing is what changes them. Healing takes time. Every emotional impact in our life has emotional stages of healing, WHY WOULDN’T ADOPTION? ESPECIALLY to the adoptee? You’ve got to be a class A idiot if you think adoptees shouldn’t be expressing any pain from adoption, let alone anger and depression. To the adoptee who is sitting there saying “I don’t feel any negative effects of it”…just wait. One day it will come. I promise you. I don’t want you to hurt, but honestly its inevitable. Sometimes I wonder if those screaming “I’m not hurt” are really hurting the most…

Well those are my thoughts of the day….

deuces

Prefrontal Cortex Optimal Performance


2beaware has this great entry up right now called The Wolves Within, by Debbie Hampton. Heres a really intriguing snip from it..

“In their book, Power Up Your Brain, The Neuroscience of Enlightenment, David Perlmutter and Alberto Villodo, write that healing your body and brain and creating a state of synergy will allow the talents of the prefrontal cortex to be fully expressed.  They say we are biologically programmed for this as they are the gifts of our humanness: bliss, generosity, peace and compassion. These traits and this area’s highest function is blocked and silenced by the fear, violence, and trauma in the world today.  The author’s posit that the prefrontal cortex has to be performing optimally to diminish the more primitive, instinctual regions of the brain and the corresponding fight or flight behaviors to allow the more evolved traits to be expressed.”

You know what I’m thinking right?

Look again… These traits and this area’s highest function is blocked and silenced by the fear, violence, and trauma in the world today.  The author’s posit that the prefrontal cortex has to be performing optimally to diminish the more primitive, instinctual regions of the brain and the corresponding fight or flight behaviors to allow the more evolved traits to be expressed.”

This is like my life mission lol. must get that book!

If only the me NOW could talk to myself THEN….


If I could turn the clock back 25 years…and meet myself as a child adoptee, what I would have told myself to help me overcome all of these fears and aftermath of being adopted.

First and foremost I would have told myself that the pain from adoption wasn’t love. To never let pain define love from everyone telling me that adoption is beautiful, that my mother made such a “loving” decision to give me away,  never associate pain with love. That no matter what if it hurts it isn’t love. Love is beautiful, and as a child I didn’t understand that, in fact I didn’t understand it until I had children of my own. Love is pure, it is unconditional, it doesn’t give you away, it doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t weaken you or leave you feeling empty. I never would have let the industry or adults in my life tell me adoption was beautiful. It hurt me. It still hurts me. There is nothing beautiful about losing your heritage, rights, family, identity and beyond. Adoption is pain.

I would then tell myself that its okay to hate adoption. Adoption is an industry. I can hate adoption, and love all 4 of my parents. Adoption didn’t give me love for my parents, they gave me love and would have with or without adoption being in our lives. That any hate for adoption does not by any means reflect on my relationship with any of my parents. Hate for adoption is a resistance of the industry.

I would tell myself that all of my parents love me. That my mother who surrendered me, loved me, but letting me go wasn’t a reflection of her love. I have every right to be hurt from her letting me go. I can hold onto that hurt for as long as I want, its mine to let go of when I feel fit to do so. Don’t however, let her abandonment reflect on your relationships with other people throughout my lifetime. That I know its going to be so hard to trust, after your own mother said goodbye, but living a lifetime without trust, is so much harder than living a lifetime with it. People are going to let me down for the rest of my life, but not nearly as much as I’m scared of. Despite the state of chaos the human race is in, there are so many beautiful people in the world, who are worthy of trust, and who won’t let go. If you continue to hate the world, and live without trust, you’ll create a barrier between yourself and society that eventually will exclude you all together. Once your feet are on the other side of that barrier in “no trust land” it’s SO HARD to come back. You constantly walk in a state of paranoia of who’s lying, who’s deceiving you next, how can you manipulate the situation to get what you need while protecting your heart in the process….its tiring, draining, exhausting. I’m 32… and just learning this.

I’d tell myself about the world, money, politics, laws, industries and how adoption became one. I’d tell myself about selling children, stealing them from their mothers and fathers, baby scoop era, evil adoption brokers, baby rings, foster care corruption, infertility and open up the doors to the bigger picture of what my mother and infant self got caught up in. Then tho…I’d have to tell myself that my mother wasn’t one of them. She chose it. She chose my parents, with promises that were not kept, and her choice wasn’t exactly informed, never the less…I wasn’t stolen like I wanted to believe for so many years. My father didn’t fight for me, like i talked myself into believing, in fact he didn’t even admit I was his until I found him at 21. That I was the accident from a summer fling and my mother truly did want more for me then at the time she felt she could offer. Not a day would ever go by however that she didn’t miss me, want me and pray for me.

I would tell myself that one day I would have 3 beautiful daughters. I wouldn’t abandon them, like I was scared I would. I wouldn’t ever let them down the way I was let down. It will be hard, it will be the greatest challenge of my life, but I will raise them, teach them values, trust, love and compassion, and I will break the cycle of abandonment and rejection. I’d prepare myself for pregnancy and the pure terror I lived in thinking some crazed PAP or agency worker was going to kill me and take my unborn child from my abdomen. I’d assure myself that it won’t happen and hopefully prevent the months of nightmares that woke me in sweat and screams from fear of losing my children by abduction.

I’d tell myself to remember however, that when I do have children…sometimes I need to set them down. That I will exhaust myself trying to hold them and keep them from crying at all times. That its okay to go outside with them, and into public areas. It’s okay to let strangers look upon them, and appreciate them, and that holding them, keeping them on your body at all times of the day will keep them from learning to crawl, explore, socialize and eventually become independent on their own. Well…lolll I take that back…my oldest got so tired of me carrying her everywhere she forced her own Independence on me, of which I translated into rejection at the time and took personal, but it wasn’t personal, it was her growing. It was her forming her own Independence something we all want our children to do and should appreciate and value when they do it. Its healthy.

I’d then tell myself about relationships and how much I deserve. I am not the mistake I lived a lifetime feeling like. I do not have to apologize for everything that happens and isn’t my fault. I cannot apologize for my existence. It is nothing that needs an apology for. I was meant to be here, and have a right to be here, I have a right to be equal and treated with respect, compassion and love. Being a mistake…and a victim of the adoption industry doesn’t mean I need to keep men in my life who treat me with the same disrespect. I do not have a curse on me that makes me unworthy of real love. But in order to be loved…I HAVE TO LOVE MYSELF. Loving myself would be the greatest gift I could ever give to me as well as my family and especially my children. That when I can look into the mirror and honestly be happy with who and what I see in the reflection … then I’d have done okay.

If I could have met myself way back when, and told myself all of this…I think I would have spared myself a lifetime of pain. I think, i might have been a little stronger, had more stable relationships, lived in less fear, and walked with more strength as I ‘grew up.’ I think it could have saved a lot of heart ache, who knows…maybe this will help another adoptee one day.

Oh and…as my blog re-grows… I”ll most likely be adding more things here so this is subject to change whenever I want it to 😛

Separation and abandonment is a bitch!


I watched a video today of this girl in China who believed her new adoptive parents were coming to take her home. She had TB and it ends up that she can’t go home with them. The video is the future adoptive mother taping the goodbye. All screams of “put the camera down” aside… I want to talk about this moment in the little girls life and what it feels like to go through that.

I think its the core of my adoptee-ness. I have been there so many times. At her age she is probably so scared to hold onto someone, to love them, to open up to them and in the video it seems like she has established some amount of trust in the man, her future adoptive father.

Then it happens, 3/4 of the way into the video she “gets” it. They’re leaving and she’s not going with them. The screams, the pleads for them to not leave without her. The cries, pulling for them to stay, pushing those trying to keep her away….oh how I have been there.

The rage will follow, hatred, detachment and finally…the life saving numbness that will stay with her forever. By the time she’s my age she’ll be able to turn it on and off if she’s aware of it like I am. Use it as a body guard, shield, warrior of self. Detach, numb, forget, protect and move on. Survival mechanisms are beautiful things.

My adoptive mother hated it about me. I would never open up, my wall is there, and will remain forever. I don’t let people in past a certain point for the same reason this little chinese girl screamed in this video. Cause once you do, you become a slave to their presence, it then becomes a game to always make sure they’re there for you, not going to leave you, still love you, that they’re not mad at you, and never ever going to abandon you.

Those without separation issues just don’t get it. How could you, you have never lost a part of your being like this. Once you lose it, it doesn’t come back. Its not curable by love, by the return of someone to care for you, by a stuffed animal, food, material things, it can’t be fixed. All you have is yourself and those who have walked in your shoes.

Damn.