The start of #NAAM brings up so many mixed emotions, including where I see myself now with such a mix of amazingly brilliant adoptees now speaking up; their digging deep and being far more open and real than my personality allows me to be. I’m thankful for every one of them, you should be too. Find them, follow them, learn from them. Amplify their voices, share their posts, listen to their lived experiences and the wisdom they’ve gained. Read the rest of this entry »
Tag Archives: Grief
Lori sent me on a never-ending quest to see if I could come up with a list of 5 songs I couldn’t live without in my life. It was the rabbit-hole that never ended; it was also good hitting all the old bands and singers and just listening to the music created in my youth, the music that stirs something deep inside of me.
Music was my saving grace during my teen years when I was struggling so very much with being adopted, doing things I now regret and often wonder how I made it through alive. I didn’t think I’d survive and sometimes I didn’t want to. Music got me through the angry, the hurt, and the pain most of all. Songs written during an era of deep unrest and upset.
That music has gotten me through every rough period of my life.
I gave up my quest to whittle down my favorite songs to a list of just 5 songs. I can’t because so many helped me survive those years and again later in my life each time when I needed them again. Listening to them again during everything going on right now has helped, a fragile time if there ever was one, while at the same time – one after the other pulled me back in time to all those feelings, and at times, it felt like I was watching a home movie in my mind. Damn. I came to the conclusion I can’t create a numerical list of all time favorites because each one is special and connected to memories. If I had to pick just one song to have, it would be Cats in the Cradle by Harry Chapin. I can’t tell you why, but every time I hear even a few notes of the song, I am pulled in and everything else recedes.
(Lots of online discussion on adopting due to the recent SC nominee so it seems timely to re-up this post and hopefully make some think)
Readers know I don’t use the term ‘adopter’ lightly, and it applies only to a few out there. I read a very disturbing post today by someone with infertility, who is pro-life and also wants to adopt. I was ready to rebut her post, it felt good writing thoughts down, but it wouldn’t have done any good. Instead, I decided to write this post, perhaps she’ll read it, or someone just like her. Perhaps it will trigger reflection, perhaps not, but I’ve tried in the kindest way I know…
She’s not ready to adopt…
This is my interpretation of what an adoptee can experience delving into being adopted. As per normal, include #notall as you need too. Read the rest of this entry »
This post is by Tiffany, her second guest post here, she’s also one of my friends. She’s fierce about what’s right, what’s wrong, she’s also an adoptive mom. A while ago, I asked her to write a post that might help others understand the complexity and challenges of adoption. She said she’d tell her story and see if that helped, it did, people loved it and it made a difference. Today’s post took me back to when I was a little one with big feelings I didn’t know how to deal with, that in this post, are dealt with wisdom and grace, please hear what she’s saying, it’s important.
Read the rest of this entry »
I’ve struggled lately to put one cohesive theme into a post, anything more than a paragraph just isn’t working, I get off-track like I’ve done in this post, because, somehow, they are all inter-connected. And, I’ve come to the conclusion that even in my writing, I’m struggling with that old familiar feeling that waits in the shadow to pounce in a moment of weakness, or when you let your guard down for a minute, fear. Read the rest of this entry »
Why is it such a shock that a mother (and father) who chose adoption would grieve for what they lost? I see posts about the birthmother is grieving, and the one I just read – not grieving appropriately, as if, for your comfort, she needs to grieve in a defined way, in a defined linear line, oh, and it can’t make you uncomfortable. Read the rest of this entry »
I was thinking last night about the position parents by birth are forced into by some in adoption, both adopting parents and professionals. The position doesn’t make any logical sense when we are talking about normal human emotions we all have, or capable of feeling in the same situation.
Either… Read the rest of this entry »
The other day I stapled my finger, it caused a momentary sting, I noticed it was bleeding, put a band-aid on and went back to what I was doing. Until I sat down to write this post, I didn’t think of it because the wound was so minor I’d forgotten it in a matter of days. If I do it again, it may trigger a vague memory that I’ve done this before, then it will be gone.
Of all the different aspects of the case about Veronica Brown – the one question I can’t find an answer for: Why would adoptive parents be willing to, or want to, adopt a child whose parent did not want that child adopted? Because that would be a forced adoption, not a voluntary adoption, and I thought we were past all that, at least, that is what everyone proudly proclaims. Read the rest of this entry »
When I started dating as a teen, I found that the very moment the boy started caring about me, my emotions turned to ice. We were done. There were more than a few relationships in my teens that started out fine, and ended with the guy completely confused, because all he had done was tell me that he cared. Read the rest of this entry »
I hesitate to write this post because it gets more personal than I prefer, because at heart I am pretty private about my deepest emotions. Yesterday, a tweet from the NCFA @adoptioncouncil triggered me. The tweet was about the #Hopechallenge and linked to a video which I watched about the benefits of adoption for mothers and how they succeed with schooling and life. This post is what I thought laying in bed last night not able to sleep and still with me this morning.
Most of you know I had/have really good parents and I can’t imagine any better. I have so many wonderful warm memories of my life growing up but nothing they did, or could have done, could have prevented the following.
The memories of going to my secret place over and over again throughout my childhood and teen years. I would sit there on the floor with my back against the wall, my knees up against my chest, and my head down, resting on my knees. I would sit there sobbing silently, tears streaming, hurting, grieving, wanting my family, my mother. To know why I wasn’t good enough to be with them. To know why they didn’t care. Those memories haunt me all these years later.
It didn’t matter that I understood why I had been surrendered and adopted. Words would not have helped. I never told mom or dad when I was sad, or that I had a secret place I would go to. They had nothing to do with why I was sad, and they could not have made it better because they weren’t what I needed. Mom and dad never saw me sad – I would return from my secret place and be the happy, shy, smart child they loved, and knew me to be.
Years later, after my son died, I felt the same deep wrenching grief. Grief that no words can make a difference for. Grief that you just have to live through. Grief that a mother feels when she loses her child. Something broke inside of me that day, and the years that followed hardly made a dent in my grief, but I continued on. I put on the brave face to those around me and was the happy, yet shy, person everyone knew me to be, and expected me to be.
Losing my son was my awakening to the full reality of the loss I was for my mother. Something broke inside of her that day that changed her according to those closest to her. Like me, she continued on but never was the same as before.
The tweet that triggered me:
Why are they fundraising to create more birth mothers? Why aren’t they fundraising to give hope for the future to those who are pregnant and scared and need a hand up? Why aren’t they fundraising to give these new vulnerable mothers a chance to get an education and provide their child with a good life?
Why is adoption the solution?
Why aren’t they fundraising to keep families together?