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From 2014: Every single day…

26 Mar

My mother was asked by someone fairly close to her, if she still thought about me after all this time.  The title was the immediate answer.  Stop and think about what that means to a mother.  To me, it means that not only did she think about me, she would have wondered if I was okay, healthy, happy, sad, even if I was alive. I can only begin to imagine the level of pain she lived with, because without knowledge, I doubt that she would think only good thoughts, not have any worries about the life I was living, rather, they would include if I was living, what my new family was like, was I loved, was I okay. I compare her words with the length of time I thought of my son every single day – before I had days, and then, weeks go by without thinking about my son after he passed. That transition happened long before the first decade had passed and having lived through that, I can’t imagine the pain that stretched decades, day in, day out, no relief, no forgetting. It’s incomprehensible, and makes tears roll down my face just thinking about it.

That’s the ugly side of adoption. The grief, the loss, the never-ending pain. If her truth had been she thought of me from time to time, around my birthday, holidays, that would have been accepted by me without question or judgement, but because of their relationship, a relationship that allowed complete honesty, instead she said – every single day.

How can anyone expect the child, the adult adoptee in the center of that – to only see the positive side of adoption. To not want to see family preservation when possible? To not feel the pain? To not see how, to a greater or lesser degree, that pain extends to every member of the family; the grandparents, aunts, uncles, and the circle that spirals out to encompass the entire family, that lost one of their own.

Adoption has its place: to find a good home for a child who needs a home, but there is a price, and that price should never be levied unless it truly needs to be.

2020: To any adoptive parents reading this post, whether you have some version of an open adoption or even a closed adoption but you could make contact – please consider reaching out and letting your child’s or children’s parents by birth know all is well, that they are well. My heart hurts just thinking of all the parents by birth who don’t know if their child is healthy during this troubled time, please, if possible, keep them in the loop, make your relationship better, stronger, do it for your child, do it because it’s the right thing to do.

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13 Comments

Posted by on March 26, 2020 in Adoption

 

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13 responses to “From 2014: Every single day…

  1. KPMominTexas

    March 27, 2020 at 12:13 am

    I had to wait 40 years to find out my baby was okay. And even in reunion the grief does not go away. It is probably worse because we know what we missed. But I’ll take all the grief gladly just to know her now. —Birthmom

    Like

     
    • TAO

      March 27, 2020 at 12:24 am

      Welcome, can’t imagine.

      Liked by 1 person

       
    • beth62

      March 28, 2020 at 12:28 pm

      It took me 40 years to find my Momma to tell her I was okay, that it’s okay.
      She asked me what took me so long 😂

      She told me the same when I finally got to ask if she remembered and thought of me on my birthday each year. She said, I thought of you every single day.

      I wasn’t expecting that answer, at that time I was deep into the no expectations mode. I didn’t really let myself believe this kind of thing could actually be. I kept the possibility of it alive, I knew it deep down, but to believe all along that my mother thought of me frequently over forty years… I guess it didn’t seem safe, or so smart. I guessed she did, I wondered if she did, I studied other people, other mother’s and situations, all I could find. I thought about it a lot, what my mother thinks about me.

      I worried about her always. I had to find her. I had to let her know. I had to know if she was okay.
      One day I refused to bear it another day. I moved the world out of the way like a loaded train at full speed and hunted her down like prey, like I had buck fever. I blew up everything that got in my way and plowed right thru. It’s what I had to do to make it happen.
      And I told her and asked her and now it’s done.

      My thoughts on it now, twenty more years later?
      What a cruel and selfish thing to do to a loving young mother and her child for their entire lives, on purpose.

      What a bunch of assholes it takes to come up with, go along with and most importantly – still continue with that EXACT same self-serving cruelty today.
      It should be a crime.
      It should be legal for me to know my mother’s name and enough information to find her.
      Especially as an adult.

      Liked by 2 people

       
      • TAO

        March 28, 2020 at 1:00 pm

        You really need to write a book Beth, you really should.

        Liked by 1 person

         
        • beth62

          April 3, 2020 at 1:24 pm

          I never know what to say or do about the book thing 😊
          I can never seem to decide which book to write. If I sit down to write one or another, it’s way too long and blah blah blah, and boring. It’s just not the same as joining in or replying to someone about what you’ve found out about a tiny bit of the top of the whole mountain.
          Maybe you could just publish your blog and comments, then there will be a book LOL

          I’ve been thinkin on it. And I’m thinkin that what I want to write a book about hasn’t really been named yet. And if it has, I either missed it, or forgot it!
          I type the words, the thing, it, stuff, and other phrases like that, too often.

          TAO? Have we named that B yet? Do you know what I’m trying to say? am I making any sense? Am I loosing it? Don’t answer that one, of course I am!

          We’ve tried for so long to identify what we can, and name it. I think I still don’t have the language yet? We’ve found the names, the words for much of it, for many parts and pieces of it. The guts seem to be easier to identify than the whole of it. It’s very complicated in there. We know much of what it can be made of, and many of the ways the insides can work together, or not.
          Yet I think I still don’t know what to call “it”. So I’ll just continue to ramble on it for now.
          I think we try to call it Adoption, or Adopted, or Adoptee. But it’s bigger than that, adoption is one of the big organs of “it”. Like Adoptee being a big part of me. Maybe I’m just confused. Maybe it’s just called life.

          This is why I tend to just call It craziness or madness too. I’m fairly certain I’m at least half crazy at this point, hard to know really. I’d hate to spread my brand of crazy around too much :/ even with good intentions of helping others 😉

          Liked by 1 person

           
          • TAO

            April 3, 2020 at 5:02 pm

            “It” works for me, and you’re right, there is no way to explain it, other than something that happens when you’re separated from the pack, it causes all sorts of havoc inside, some you feel, some you can hold, sometimes you never can grasp it.

            This new life we are all forced into right now it really stirring everything up for me.

            Liked by 1 person

             
            • beth62

              April 4, 2020 at 3:20 pm

              I hear ya, me too. Everything is stirred. Lots of randomness lurking all around.
              I think “hide” is the right response to this round of randomness.
              Yeah, I’m terribly homesick/peoplesick 😦 missing them hard. A little sad I know that I can survive that. Have been on the phone cheering on a few that are not so sure they can. Tiring, but it’s a little funny too lol

              Liked by 1 person

               
      • KPMominTexas

        March 28, 2020 at 3:10 pm

        I think you should write a book, too, Beth. We can never hear enough from adoptees. I read blogs, listen to podcasts and read books written by adoptees. I do not want to read anymore books by a parent that has adopted. It’s not that what they have to say is not important, because their voice should be heard like anyone else’s. I just cannot heal by reading anything that makes me feel like less of a mother. I realize that adoption can be a good thing, a needed thing. But you are so right that there is no reason to keep the truth hidden especially once you are an adult. Of course now that I have my daughter back in my life, I have felt so guilty for not looking for her as soon as she became an adult. But I was still keeping the secret-I was still in shame. How much time I wasted living in fear! I requested the adoption papers from the agency and received them this week. I wanted to know…..I don’t remember her birth, I don’t remember signing papers. And as I read everything they had me sign even the first time I went there, the wording… “in the best interest of the child” every other sentence. How much it would cost if I were to change my mind. They said she would be put in foster care until all the expenses were paid. All the words. All the this is “YOUR choice”. It was my only choice at 16. I just did as I was told because I was the disappointment, I was the problem to be hidden. I should not place this kind of shame on my child. She needs two parents who are married. Blah blah blah. I spent 4 days in such anger this week. I’ve kept it to myself but I am working through the anger I thought I was done with. No decision should be made out of guilt and shame. So many babies suffered needlessly. I hope it has changed in recent years with open adoption, I really truly hope it has.

        Liked by 1 person

         
        • Judith Land

          March 28, 2020 at 5:08 pm

          The appeal of adoption stories and the fate of unwanted children is a popular topic across the globe in every culture. Behind every adoption there is a story to be told, or a movie to be made. Adoption stories have a universal appeal to men and women of all ages in every country.

          In my case, what began as a simple sharing of the unique events in my life and my reactions to those events with friends and neighbors, mostly around campfires and dinner tables, let to additional requests for advice and sharing of my story with other groups. The encouragement I received eventually resulted in the publication of the book “Adoption Detective.” It is amazing to know at this point in time that I have reached readers in 192 countries.

          Every generation faces the same situations and circumstances and repeats the same mistakes; young love, setting sail without a rudder or sail, a map or compass to guide them. The more that young people are encouraged to read, the more they will learn and the wiser they will become. Those who don’t read have no advantage over those who can’t…

          Liked by 2 people

           
          • KPMominTexas

            March 28, 2020 at 5:20 pm

            Maybe that’s why I started blogging…so someone can maybe learn from my mistakes.

            Liked by 2 people

             
        • beth62

          April 3, 2020 at 6:05 pm

          I’m sure that was some strong anger to sit with KP. Yikes, those old ideas and words scare me like Handmaids Tale. I think it’s good to revisit the wreck. Necessary even. I’d try hard not to stay there too long though. Take the treasures you find, and come back up to the surface to look at them more closely in the light of today. There are others waiting for you to show them and tell them about what you found.
          I could write up an anger book in no time! I typically erase over half of what I’ve written before I hit reply.
          Yes, a snarky joke book or pages of rage. No problem! like my favorite Looney Tune Martian says (come on now, he’s obviously Adopted 😉 )”at last, after 2,000 years of work, the eludium pu36 explosive space modulator. At long last, my dream come true. The earth? Oh, the earth will be gone is just a few seconds. Oh, I’m going to blow it up, it obstructs my view of Venus.”

          Here’s the second half of that reply above, that I didn’t copy and paste, for humanity sake LOL

          … There should be someone for me to beat to a bloody pulp over it.
          I certainly would beat somebody to a bloody pulp, until there was nothing left, if I knew exactly who to blame, it would be great medicine for the violent rage this anguish produces. It would only make me happy, it would only be right. I’d video it to share the medicine with all. I will never forgive it. Anyone have any idea who that person is supposed to be?
          I am certain it isn’t me, my mother, or father, or adopted parents who are to blame. I haven’t always been this certain.
          This is how people learn to hold indifference, avoidance, even hatred and anger for mother, and for baby too. For all mothers, for “mother”. For human connection.
          Especially the guys, I’ve noticed. I think as a female with motherhood as a possibility, something to be curious about or even plan for or experience regardless of adoption in the mix… It usually makes it different there I think. As a mother, I have an easier chance of understanding, and forgiving, “mother”. Maybe.
          I’ve pointed the anger out to some, others pointed it out to me. The anger I didnt, wouldn’t accept, denied, avoided, was trained not to choose, struggled not to believe or admit ((love you Raven)) As well as the pain that goes with it.

          Where are you supposed to put that kind of anger, anguish? Adoptees have been trained to put it in “I’m fine.”
          It’s hard to know what to do with it, believe me. I’ve had a lot of practice. I could make an endless list of the ways and the places I tried to put it, leave it, loose it, ditch it, contain it, control it, forget it, share it, use it, hide it, hide from it, explain it, drown it, burn it, blow it up, stop it…
          I’ve seen it go all wrong for too many, too many times 😢
          Through it all I chose deep down inside to survive it, to never give in, to always keep crawling out of the muck on my belly if that’s how it is. Always choose to live. I can appreciate that life lesson very well today. On my outside, I just got lucky in many ways that others did not.

          There is no way for me to end It right now today, It’s still happening to me and many.
          I guess I’ll never stop poking at it, or beating it. Not until it gets up and moves out of the damn way. I know good and well it ain’t dead. but neither am i. Changing laws is only a part of it. “It” is what keeps the laws in place and the machine running. It is some kind of a disease of beliefs many don’t even know they have. I had it, I’m not sure of any cure, it still tries to come back like an allergy triggered. or like MS, ya never know what parts it might affect today. Have to pay attention and take care of yourself, and that takes much time and energy.
          I want to blow It up. I don’t want anyone hurt.

          Maybe a big bomb in a book could work?
          I think we’re going need a bigger bomb.

          Liked by 1 person

           
          • KPMominTexas

            April 3, 2020 at 7:16 pm

            I love how you explain this anger that has no “it” to be angry at! No one, yet everyone! I blamed myself so so long. What I have learned this couple of weeks is that I don’t need to do that anymore. I need to give my 16-17 year old self some mercy and grace, because God certainly does. I’ve actually journaled and listed every one and everything I was angry at. And I can easily forgive my parents and I can forgive her father and his parents. It’s a little tougher to forgive the “agency” but even that was just more the society at the time. I wasn’t the only one that was shamed and judged. My parents didn’t send me away. I have much to be thankful for. And so I start my day thanking God for all the blessings. For the sweet husband he gave me, the six children we raised and now for this sweet grown up baby girl that says she loves me….everyday, for the past two years. And as I feel anger that she ever felt rejected or unwanted I just pray that God continues to heal her heart. Aw-she just sent me a text-“Also, I love you.” She’s so sweet!! So there’s that. ❤️

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  2. beth62

    April 3, 2020 at 8:42 pm

    Yes, that. That’s what it’s all about. 😊,

    How cruel it would be to deny a mother and child of that, on purpose, for anothers intentions, for what they believe is right, or best.

    Like

     

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