Monday, December 27, 2010

Merry Christmas...

...from my family to yours! :)

We had a nice Christmas, but I must say I am glad that the craziness of it all is over. There is always so much build-up and then it's over in a matter of minutes! The kids had a blast, so that is what's important...mission accomplished!! Ha! :) I am now looking forward to a girls night and exchanging gifts with my bff's later this week. ALWAYS a good time! I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas!

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

This crazy life

In my everyday life, it is fairly easy to go through the motions of the day. Regardless of the personal issues that may be welling up inside me, I am pretty good at masking things just to "get by". I like to stay busy...ALL.THE.TIME. Rarely does a day go by that I do not have something to do. Planned or not, I keep my days (and nights) busy.

I used to just think that I am a busy person. I like to have LOTS to do. That may be true in part, but my friends (and then reiterated by my counselor) helped me to see otherwise. It's really not so much that I stay busy because I LIKE it, it's more because it keeps me from thinking. It's become a way for me to cope. I mean, REALLY...who likes to ponder about their life's struggles? Obviously, not me. It's funny...the things we do to make it through.

I had a conversation with my nmom the other day that kind of spurred my thoughts. We were talking about Christmas and our plans which led to her inviting me to come spend some of Christmas Eve with her dad, sister, nieces/nephews, etc. and then that led us into a conversation about I fit into the family. When it's just her and I, it's relatively easy. However, those times that I'm hit with the realization that there is a whole family out there that I am related to, but do not know, that's when it's a little harder.

I want to fit in and be a part of the family, but it's really REALLY hard for me right now. I still have a lot of reservations about who I am and my place in the family, especially with the second rejection. It's hard to put myself out there for fear that I may be hurt again. I wish it wasn't so complicating and emotion-filled, but it is what it is. I'm learning to deal.

So, how do you all balance the holidays with your family/friends, first mom, and adoptive family? It is beyond overwhelming to me. For this year, I know that I will not be joining my natural family on Christmas Eve. I am not emotionally ready for it and do not know if/when I'll ever be. I'm sure time will give me plenty of opportunities to think and hopefully provide some clarity. It usually does.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Abortion or Adoption...that is the question

I don't know how many times in my life someone has told me, "You should be so glad that you're adopted. You know, your mom COULD of had an abortion." I have heard that more times then I could possibly begin to count. I grew up believing my mom was so brave and admirable for not aborting me. Instead, she decided to love me, care about me, take care of herself so she, in turn, could take care of me, and THEN give me away. Whether it was at 12 weeks gestation or 2 days postpartum, she still lost me. Is there really a difference?

I have been thinking about this a lot, so I decided to do a little research. What did I find:
Why do women choose abortion?
Three-fourths say that having a baby would interfere with work, school, or other responsibilities; about two-thirds say they cannot afford a child; and half say they do not want to be a single parent or are having problems with their husband or partner.
Why do women choose adoption?
The first situation that leads many pregnant women to consider adoption is the lack of a father figure in her baby’s life; secondly, the mother’s financial situation and the fear that she will struggle handling both her and the baby’s expenses, especially without family support; finally, the mother's desire to continue her education and/or the idea that she is not mature enough to raise a baby.
Is it just me or do you also see the common thread? Although the two are very different, the reasoning behind them are very much the same.

I asked my f mom why she chose to carry me to term. Her mother wanted her to have an abortion, so I wanted to hear why she chose not to. She said that she could not bear to abort me. She thought it was wrong, so she refused to do it. She had every intention of keeping me and raising me on her own, until two weeks before I was born. She realized she was all alone and decided I deserved better then what she could offer. So, she gave me away. She didn't want to, but she did what she felt she had to do.

How many women that have abortions really WANT to do it? In my opinion (and this may be harsh) adoption is a way to consciously (or even morally) feel okay about your decision to lose your baby. I do believe my mom when she tells me that she wanted to keep me...she loved me...she only wanted what was best for me. Do people that have abortions not want or love their baby? Do they feel that they are doing what is best for the child they are carrying? It's something to think about.

I am not posting this to offend any first mom's or women who have had abortions. I realize that every adoption and abortion is not the same. It is something that's been on my mind and I've wondered what others think. I am sure many of you may disagree with some of the things that I have said, and that's okay. I'd love to hear your opinions on the topic. Whether you get what I'm saying or you think I'm way off, I hope you take the time to share.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

I am thankful for... husband. He's consistent and I know that I can trust him 100%. AMAZING BFF's. They are my chosen sisters and life would not be the same without them. three children (and two angels in heaven). They are the epitome of unconditional love.

...all of my parents. They all played some part in making me who I am today. house. It's nice to have shelter. job. We have a love/hate relationship, but I am thankful to have one I enjoy. That of myself, friends, and family.

...Internet. What in the world would we do without the World Wide Web??

...blogs. Writing mine and reading others has been great help and encouragement for me.

...the adoption community. It's nice to know others who have been there and get it.

...rain. There is no sound or smell I love more.

...laughter. No better feeling in the world than when you laugh-so-hard-you-cry. It is pure therapy for me sometimes!

...hard times. They've made me stronger and wiser, and the good times even better.

So, what are you thankful for? Wishing a Happy Thanksgiving, to you and yours!! :)

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Blog of Shame

There are no words to describe how sick I am after seeing this. Hop on over to Christina's blog and you will see why. It's absolutely sickening!

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Blog Stalkers Please Come Forward

I admit that I peruse blogs on occasion and do not leave comments saying who I am. I didn't think much of it until I started noticing random URL's and such on my blog. I would love to know who is following my blog so comments are great, but if you're anything like me you only have a small window of opportunity to read other blogs so there's usually not much time to comment. Anyway, blog stalking was not such a big deal to me UNTIL after the crazy dream I had last night.

I dreamt that my AP's and my asister had come across my blog. If you remember THIS POST and my amom's reaction, that was pretty much the reaction in my dream. It was intense. It turned into an absolute nightmare. was scary! SO much so that when I awoke this morning I debated going private. I love the idea that my blog can help others, but I don't want any part of it to hurt someone else.

YES, I am sometimes mad. YES, I am sometimes sad. Yes, I am sometimes angry, disappointed, frustrated, name it, I have been it on my blog. Despite that, my intentions are not to blog so I can talk about people behind their backs. There are occasionally things that I say about my families on my blog that I know I am not ready to say to them in person. BUT, that's how blogging has been GREAT therapy for me. Getting your thoughts out there and off your chest/mind is such a release and receiving feedback from others that understand is even more therapeutic.

So, I was just curious about your thoughts on this topic. How many of your AP's, first/birth/natural mom's, dad's, brother's, sister's, adoptee's, etc (wherever they fit in the triangle) know you have a blog and follow it? If so, did they find it on their own? Did you tell them? How was their reaction? Are/were you glad they found it or you told them about it?

My AP's are not real computer savvy, but my nmom, asister, and abrothers are. However, none of them know that I have a blog so they wouldn't be looking for it. I've totally debated telling my nmom about it, but I'm not sure how she'll react to it. You know, reading the "truth" is not easy.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Second Thoughts

I was wondering how many of you have accessed your adoption records. I have been excited about the possibility of having factual, real information about me. However, as I have started the process to obtain my records, I am suddenly a little nervous about it. I am beginning to wonder if opening this up will also bring about new issues...a whole new list is raiding my mind. Who knows what my adoption records...OBC, court proceedings, agency reports, etc... may disclose? What if I discover more lies? Am I ready to find out?

I have a very strong feeling that my AP's knew more than what they ever disclosed to me throughout my life. I have another VERY strong feeling that they already have a copy of my adoption records. There are little things that I have always known about myself that my nmom said she never shared with anyone. The only way that my AP's could know that information to tell me is if they obtained it from my adoption records.

My AP's, I felt, were always fairly open about my adoption. I knew I was adopted. I knew what my nmom had named me. They told me that my nmom was enrolled at a local community college in her hometown. Several details like that I always knew. However, it was always on their terms. If i ever asked my amom something specific abut my nmom, she would give me a vague answer.

Once, my amom told me when I turned 13 she would give me some information that would tell me more about my nmom. I will never forget my 13th birthday. I was expecdting a big envelope full of information about me, my nmom and ndad, my birth, etc. INstead, my amom was out of town with my sister. I called in my own cake to the local bakery, my adad went and picked it up when he finished working, and we ate it. That was it. That was my 13th birthday. No big envelope. No records. Just a cake that I ordered for myself.

I have a strange sense of loyalty to my AP's. I am angry with them about a lot of things that happened growing up, but I also have a hard time expressing my true feelings to them. You know, the whole...because you took me in and saved me from a life of poverty and despair. Because of that, I have felt like I "owed it to them" to be the good girl...dependable and loyal. I guess that it's paid off to an extent. I am the executor to their estate over their biological children. Bottom line, I am the one that they trust. I'm sure if I was ever really honest with them, this would all be thrown in my face.

I am sure many of you are thinking that it's CRAZY to have second thoughts. I think it's pretty crazy too. So, why am I nervous about it? Well for me, NOTHING with my reunion has gone how I thought it would. I don't think anyone could have prepared me for the emotions involved. That is why I am nervous about opening up my adoption records. I am having second thoughts on whether or not I am ready to "go there" and, unfortunately, I won't know until I do it.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

The Stepford life

Do you ever read other people's blogs or hear about another person's life and wonder if they ever have any problems? You know, like the "Stepford family" you see at the park. They arrive in their shiny, newly cleaned and waxed minivan. The doors open and mom, dad, big brother and little sister step out, laughing. Brother and sister run to the swings calling out for dad to give them a push. Mom urges dad to go while she lays the blanket out onto the grass and starts unpacking their picnic lunch. You hear their giggles and see their smiles and think of how lucky they are to have THAT.

As your cheeks start burning with envy, you are pulled back into your reality...YOUR life. Your littlest fell off the jungle gym while you were jealously watching the Stepford family. She's screaming, you're trying to soothe her....meanwhile, your other two children are fighting over the last drink out of the only water bottle you brought. You meant to grab drinks for everyone, but forgot because you were trying to just remember all your children as you were heading out the door. Frustrated that you can't calm your baby and irritated that your others are fighting, you decide to call it quits and head home. Your baby is still screaming, your middle child is throwing a fit because he doesn't want to leave, and your oldest is pouting because you made her give up the last drink of water so ONE of your other two would quit screaming. As your piling your kids back into your dirty, cluttered van, you glance back over at the Stepford family that is now laughing and enjoying their picnic in the park. There, just for a moment, you wish that you had THAT.

The next day, you go to church with your family. Afterwards, you go eat at your favorite restaurant. The kids are behaving AMAZINGLY well. You and hubby enjoy your time talking to each other while the kids are quietly coloring their kids menus and patiently waiting for the food to come. They look so sweet and charming dressed in their Sunday best. The waiter even comments on how well-behaved your children are. You and hubby enjoy the time together as a family. You make plans for the week. Talk about the kids' schedules and work schedules. You laugh at the cute comments your precious little ones are making. It's a great time.

A couple tables away, a mom is there by herself with her two children. The kids are arguing because the food is taking too long. The oldest is mad at mom because she made him order off the kids menu because it was cheaper. The youngest starts pestering big brother and, in the process, knocks her drink over onto mom's new coat. Mom, about to lose her temper, turns and takes a deep breath and slowly starts counting to ten. As she's counting, she sees your family. Mom and dad together, laughing and talking. Three beautiful, well-behaved children. Tears begin to burn her eyes as she wishes, just for a moment, that she had THAT.

Even in the crazy world of adoption, we all have our Stepford moments. Believe it or not, each of us have had some moment where things seemed to be perfect in the eye of a complete stranger. SOme of you may be laughing at this point, but it's true. The outside is not always what it seems...good or bad. I've definitely had those moments where I've read something and wished, for that moment, that I had THAT. Like when I read the latest blog entry of the "Stepford AP's" that spend the holidays and plan vacations with their little adoptlings first mom. Oh, how I wish I could of had that.

I wish that I could be excited when my nmom plans something with me and not afraid that it's not going to happen. I wish that I wasn't paranoid every time she's a day late in returning a phone call that she's backing away from me again. I wish that it felt natural to call her mom or have my children call her grandma. I wish that I wasn't googling my ndad and spending hours looking at pictures of my half siblings that I will probably never know. I wish that things were different, but their not.

So, my point in all of this is that we all have our moments. Just keep in mind when you get to feeling jealous, and wishing that you had someone else's life...they very well may be wishing the same thing about yours. What would we do without the Stepford's? I guess it keeps us dreaming and everyone needs a dream.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Maternal Bond

I get so disgusted when I read posts and/or comments from AP's talking about adoptee's needing to "get over it" or "quit being so angry". While I do try to stay as positive as I possibly's the only way I know how to cope...everyone reacts to situations in different ways. Whether I agree or not, I would NEVER, EVER tell someone that is grieving to get over it.

Grieving is exactly what you have to go through when you are taken from your mother. I don't care if you're 1 day or 50 years old, besides losing your own child, losing your mother is the hardest loss to grieve.

It goes back to maternal bond. Mothers begin bonding with their babies while they are merely weeks into their pregnancy. A fetus hears its mother's voice, responds to her touch, and even knows her smell. For 38+ weeks, those sounds, touches, and smells are all a baby knows. How scary to come into a cold, bright world full of unfamiliar sounds, smells and touches. Wouldn't you be a bit upset? Just because a "new mother" walks into the picture with the intent to provide you with gentle touches and a soothing voice, that does not replace what was taken away. A baby cries for what was warm, comfortable, and loving. I don't think that's easy to "get over".

I do not think that every AP in the world is out to hurt the child that they adopt. Some of them have the very best intentions. Some of them really want to "provide a life for a less fortunate child". The problem? A baby wants his/her mom. Plain and simple. They don't care how educated you are, how much money you make, what kind of car you drive or what kind of house you live in. They just want to be loved by their mother.

I honestly believe that the connections that are made in the uterus are with you forever. Every child has 'issues'...adopted or not. However, I do not feel like an AP can possibly love a child just like they are their own. Not that they don't want to or don't try, but I think naturally you don't have the same bond with another person's baby then you would your own.

Since my natural mom had no plans to place me for adoption throughout most of her pregnancy, she still loved me, sang to me, talked to me, spent everyday loving me. On the other hand, my adoptive mom found out she was getting me just hours before it actually happened. She was actually on vacation with my dad and was contacted by his parents that "they had a baby for them!". My amom's preparation for me consisted of gathering a bunch of people together to go run to Sears and buy every baby item in the store then meet their case worker at the office and take me home with them. Do you see my point?

It's not that my AP's didn't love me, but I truly believe with all of my heart it is a completely different kind of love. The maternal bond is strong. When it is taken away, no matter how old you are, a piece of you is taken with it.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Ignorance and OBC's

Ignorance is not always bliss..or so I have decided. Since I was adopted as an infant (I was three weeks old), I thought that the only birth certificate I ever had was the one I have carried around with me my whole life. The one with my ap's as my parents, my city of birth was where they resided at the time, the doctor was a friend of my amom's, the hospital was the one my amom worked at, and my name, of course, is what my ap's chose for me.

Until I came across Christina's blog and started talking to her, I was pretty clueless about anything and everything surrounding adoption and my rights as an adoptee. How sad is it that at 33years old, it finally comes to my attention that I have a real, original birth certificate locked away in a undisclosed place downtown?! Anyway, like I said...ignorance is not always bliss.

As a child, I do remember thinking that it was strange that everything on my birth certificate was a lie. My ap's were always very open about the fact that I was know, all the basic stuff. I knew where I was born. I knew the situation that led to me being placed for adoption. I knew the name that my nmom had chose for me. I knew quite a bit (or so I thought). But ANYTHING that had ANYTHING to do with me finding my mom or relatives was always vague. I remember my amom telling me that I should never try to find my nmom because she has moved on and has a life of her own. She said if I tried to find her I could cause a lot of problems for her and her family. All I knew was that my adoption was CLOSED...that was it. I didn't know any better.

Now, all that has changed. Thanks to my amom's unintentional intervention, I now know who my natural mother is. I now know that a lot of things I was told growing up were not completely true. I now know that there is a document out there detailing my arrival into this crazy world and I want it.

Friday, October 22, 2010


I am sitting here unsure about what tomorrow may bring. Tomorrow is my mom's birthday and she is supposed to be coming to visit and hang out with me. My brother is supposed to be coming with her. I have not heard from her today so I do not have the slightest idea as to what the plan actually is. That in itself is a little nervewrecking for me, but I am sure it will all go ok.

This whole reunion thing is such a crazy situation. On one hand, I am excited that she is coming to see me and wants to spend part of her birthday with me. On the other hand, I'm slightly concerned that she is not going to show up because she is overwhelmed with the reality of it all. She seems a good way. Our conversations are heartfelt and reassuring. She makes an effort to call and see how things are going with me and the kids. It's all good. So much so that I'm just waiting for the ball to drop. Waiting for the day when the phone calls end. It's not fair to her, but it's my reality. It's what I live with and worry about all the time. I hate to say it, but it's true. I am afraid that she's going to abandon me...again.

It's hard to admit those fears, but they're there. I cannot deny them. However, I can't live my life worried about what tomorrow may bring. I can only take care of and enjoy today. I have tried so hard to have the right perspective in all of this. As hurt as I would be if my relationship with my mom went badly, again, I am so blessed with loving and supportive people in my life that will always be there for me. That has become my focus. Enjoying what I do

I spent the past couple days with my two very best friends...just hanging out, talking, playing with the kids, eating, much fun. They are my sisters, my family, and I love them dearly. My husband and I have our ups and downs, but I trust him 100% and never worry that he will be gone when I wake up the next day. I have three beautiful children that love me unconditionally and make me laugh everyday. I am blessed.

So even though I am a little nervous about tomorrow, I'm going to go to bed with thoughts of today and hopes that tomorrow will be a good one.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

My wish

I am not a huge country music fan, but I really like Rascal Flatts. This song, in particular, is one of my favorites. Ironically enough, my mom brought this song up not that long ago. She said she fell in love with it when it came out because it always made her think of me.

She has shared so much this second time around. How much she has always loved me. How she wishes she would have chose to keep me. She has told me that more than anything she wished she would have listened to her heart instead of the people that were literally taking me away from her.

There have been so many times that I have wished that things were different. I used to think if I could have one wish, it would be to see the future. The only reason I would want to see the future is to know if the choice I'm facing is going to end with disappointment or sadness. Who wouldn't want to choose the smoother road? I'm slowly learning that the bumpy roads hurt, but they're the ones that we learn the most from. No one said it would be easy, right?

I have been asked so many times, "If you had to do it all over again..." in regards to my reunion. Even knowing now what I was going to go through...the silence, hurt, sadness, anger, resentment, fear, frustration, confusion, etc...I would choose to do it all over again. Why? Because had I chose the smoother road, at the time, I never would have got to feel what it was like to be loved by my mother. To me, even if it was only for a while, it was worth it.

Friday, October 1, 2010

A few questions answered

I'm so sorry it's been a long time since I've posted. I've been so busy. It doesn't look like things are going to settle down anytime soon, so I thought I'd take some time to answer a few questions from this post. They've really made me think. That's been a good thing. I tend to ignore real issues, so actually having to reflect isn't bad from time to time! :)

I thought I could answer them all in one post, but I'll have to break it up. I am sure many of you reading may have differing opinions about my responses to some of the following questions, and that's fine. Feel free to add in your comments. I'd actually love to hear how some of you would respond to these questions, so feel free to comment away.

My daughter's birthday is Sat and she agreed that I could send her a gift. I sent her a really nice doll along with a toy car, because we joked about how I wouldn't send a car and she was like asking if I could try. She was joking. In the same box she will get a card that is a daughter card. Then, she will also get flowers with me and my sons signing it. This is the first birthday since I found her and we have yet to me. Do you think I over did it? No, I do not. Would you get mad if your birthmom claimed you as her daughter? Not at all, however, I am sure this is different for everyone. The first time my mom introduced me to someone as her daughter has been in the past couple of months (8 years into reunion). It completely caught me off guard, but it meant a lot to me. For me, it was a turning point in our relationship where I realized that she wasn’t embarrassed of me and really thought of me as a part of her and the family. Figuring out who I was to my natural family has been very difficult for me. I didn’t want to be the one to ask what was ok and not ok. Trying to find my place in a world where I always belonged but was never a part of has been the most difficult part of the whole reunion process.

I've been wondering if you have considered contacting your ndad? Good question. I just talked to my nmom about this the other night. The answer to this is still no. It may be hard for others to understand why. It’s been hard for me. In thinking about it more, the main reason I don’t want to contact him is because I have yet to feel like he actually cares or wants a relationship with me. If you’ve read my blog at all, you know that having a relationship with my mom has been extremely important to me. Having her in my life gives me a feeling of completion. I can’t say, at least not yet, that I’ve ever felt that way about my natural father. I have seen him on a couple of different occasions. They were both very crazy, surreal experiences. However, I have yet to feel that desire to want him in my life. Quite honestly, figuring out everything with my mom has been difficult enough. I’m not quite sure my heart is ready to go down that road.

Have your parents met your mom? No, they have not. Had any communication with her (cards,letters)? No to this one too. Would you like them to be "friends", or would you rather keep them "separate"? I don’t know if they can ever be “friends”, but I do not wish to keep them separate either. How do your parents feel about meeting/communicating with her? I would love for them to have a cordial relationship. It would make everything 100 times easier. My nmom is very open about wanting to meet my ap’s. My ap’s, mainly my amom, have not seemed to share that same desire. I would love for them to all be able to come together for my kids’ activities, parties, etc but, as of now, I am not sure if that’s ever going to be the case.

Do you think of your birth mother as an actual mother like you think of your amom or is the relationship different, more like good friends? I definitely think of my nmom as a mother. I mean, why would I not? She is just that…my mother!:) I also think of her as a friend, too. She's easy to talk to and she cares about my life in a way that I never had from my amom. When I talk to her, she genuinely seems interested in what's going on in my life. I must admit, at first, I didn’t know how I felt about her...Or I guess I should rephrase that to say that I didn't know how I was 'supposed' to feel about her. Since my ap’s were beyond devastated about her ‘finding’ me, I felt that it was not at all acceptable to take her in as my mom. She gave me up, I guess I was supposed to say, “To hell with you.” I had to get to a point where I was no longer shamed into feeling guilty for loving my nmom and wanting her in my life. When I got to that point, it was easier.

How soon were you ok with hearing that your birth mother loved you? As in her saying "I love you". I don’t think I could of heard that one soon enough. I had wondered my entire life if she really did love me. I wondered if it was easy for her to give me up. I wanted to know that she cared and had wondered about me her entire life. For me, that was very, very important. I wanted to hear her say that she did love me, it was a hard decision, and if she could go back and change it she would in a heartbeat. I think I lived every day of my life wanting to hear her say that was how she truly felt. Feeling rejected by your mother, your flesh and blood, is not a good feeling. If you feel like your own mother doesn’t love you, then you wonder who ever will.

I will try to finish up the other questions and post in the next few days. Thanks for making me 'think'! :)

Sunday, September 12, 2010

What are you?

My daughter had a soccer game today and there are a few new players. I was introducing myself to some of the new mom's and welcoming them to the team. You know, just trying to be hospitable and all. Anyway, as I was shaking one particular mom's hand and telling her my name, my daughter's name...etc, she pulled me into her just a bit, looked me in the eyes and said, "What are you?"

Any of you confused? Well, I wasn't because it's about the millionth time in my life I have been asked that question. I've always thought it was kind of an odd question, and as a child the first time someone asked me that I was totally caught off guard. I've become fairly creative over the years on how I choose to answer that particular question. I mean, other than having my ethnicity tatooed across my forehead, I've had to think of some way to "explain myself" to the curious.

Fortunately for me, I was raised in a family where my amother was black and my adad was white. That is one positive thing I can most definitely say about my placement. I didn't stand out like a sore thumb amongst the rest of my family. As a matter of fact, I have been told on many occasions that I look "just like my sister" or my brother and I could "practically be twins".

Crazy! The random people that I come into contact with in my day to day life wondering what I am...well, I have an easy response for them. But do you feel about that very same question? If you were asked, "What are you?", what would your answer be?

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Ask me anything....well, ALMOST anything :)

I have enjoyed a little blogging hiatus, but am slowly getting back into the swing of things. School has started, and even though I am very, very busy, I must say that I truly enjoy the time I have to sit, catch up on old blogs, and blog myself. I was told by a therapist that blogging would be a very good outlet for me. She could not be any closer to the truth. I do enjoy it and it's better than journaling because I almost always get feedback! Yay! :)

Anyway, my good friend Christina gave me the idea to do a little "ask me anything" post. I say ALMOST anything jokingly. I really don't mind answering any questions. Now if we were having this conversation one on one, that may be a little different! But since I don't have to look you in the eye and admit how twisted and warped I truly am, I'm game for whatever! So, I digress...I have received several e-mails over the past few months about me, adoption, feelings, etc and I have happily answered them. However, I was thinking that this could be a great time to let everyone get in on a little therapy session. You never know when someone else may be wondering the answers to the very same question(s) you've asked, but didn't want to ask themselves. I want everyone to be heard. This journey pretty much sucks a large portion of the time, but if I can use my experience to help others I don't feel like the roller coaster of emotions ware all for nothing! :)

So...any burning questions out there???? If you could ask me any question, what would it be?Ask away, and in a day or two I'll gladly answer them the best that I can! Fire away...

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

From Where We Came

About 5 years ago, my adad started doing a lot of family history research. He decided that all of his children needed to know where they came from. He found cousins that he never knew and learned all about great, great great, great great great and even great great great great grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc. He compiled all of his hours of research into these binders with pictures and biographical information and gave each of his kids one for Christmas one year. The binders were titled "From Where We Came". He was so proud of them...and he should have been. He put a lot of work into it. The binders were very informative. He felt so strongly that his children needed all of this information so they could know about their genealogy and where they came. I agree. I was just waiting for him to pull out MY binder with MY genealogy in it. Lucky for me, I didn't hold my breath.

That Christmas, I will never forget sitting down with my brother and sister and flipping through the pages of Great Great Great Grandpa George and his brother Fred and Fred's wife Helen and their 8 children.... As everyone was oohing and awing over their family, I couldn't help but feel more and more separate from them. The more pictures we looked at and the more information I read, the heavier my heart felt. The more curious I became. I wanted to know about MY genes, MY family and where I came from. But, I never said a word. I just quietly flipped through the pages of another family's history and imagined what it would be like to know half of this information about my own.

Since my re-reunion with my mom, I have kept my kids out of it, for the most part. I was a little skeptical if this was for real or not, so I wanted to give it some time before I got them involved. I can risk being hurt, but I try my best to protect my children.

I have talked to my oldest about my mom. She still vaguely remembers her. She talks about her dog and jumping on the trampoline and playing with her older cousins at her mom's house. She knows that she's my mom and I grew in her tummy. She seems to get all that. Well, my daughter's birthday was a month ago and my mom sent her a gift. I was surprised at my daughter's reaction to the gift. Not so much the gift itself, but who it was from. She was thrilled to be receiving something from her natural grandmother. She told me several times that she could not believe that she remembered her and she needed to send her a thank you note. A week or so later we were with my amom and my daughter brings up the gift she got from her "other grandma". I cringed when I heard her start talking about it because I knew the direction it would take. I was just waiting for my mom to blow up. But, she didn't. Right then and there, my daughter starts asking more questions about her, why she didn't keep me, where has she been all these years, and so on. I answered them and my amom just quietly listened. My daughter ended the conversation by saying that we really need to go see her. Wow! Like they say..."Out of the mouths of babes..." I'm sure that will not be the end of it, as far as a reaction from my amom, but I'm also glad my daughter brought it up. I'm glad that she was not afraid to speak up, ask questions, and be heard.

I say this a lot, but it's so, so true. There are too many times in my life that I want to scream out loud how much I hate adoption. Whether it's sitting on the couch staring at someone elses family tree or explaining to my daughter why my own mother couldn't keep me, the conversations and confusion that arise due to it never, ever end. It affects so many people. The bottom line?...EVERYONE wants to know where they come from and who their family is. Even as children, everyone is curious. Not that it's a new revalation for me. It's always been important to me. However, unlike my daughter, I was always too scared to speak up. I never had a voice of my own, but I'm so glad that she does and I'm even more glad that she's not afraid to be heard.

Friday, August 20, 2010

The ugly truth

First of all, thank you so much for the e-mails. I have received several wondering if I had fell off the face of the earth! I guess, in a way, I kinda have. So, to catch you up...

Basically, I have been in a blogging slump. I have tried to read other blogs and keep up with my adoptee friends, but I just have not felt like writing about my life at all. I have thoughts, who doesn't, but I haven't been up to writing about them. Honestly, I have gone back into my own delusional world and haven't felt like coming back into reality. May sound sad, but we deal with life the best we can. In my case, I tend to avoid conflict and/or reality. Sad, but like I said, we deal the best we can.

For the majority of my life I have lived in my own world. A happy world. That is how I taught myself to cope with reality. Reality was hard. Reality made me angry. Reality was not a place I ever wanted to be. Reality sucked. So I did the only thing I knew to do...I avoided it.

I have never been one to speak up for myself. If I felt like others were being mistreated, I would have their back in a heartbeat. But growing up, no one had mine. When I was abused as a child, I chose to ignore it. I pushed the memories back in my mind as far as I could push them. I even convinced myself through most of my childhood and early adulthood that the abuse never even existed. For the absolute longest time, too long probably, I could think back on my childhood and believe that it was all wine and roses. I had that happily ever after. I really did believe it. I had convinced myself that I lived a fairytale life. Sure, I had a few trials, but life "could have been so different for me had my aparents not 'chose' to adopt me". I mean, seriously, if you're told something enough it tends to become your truth. My life was no different. I really and truly believed it. My delusional world reigned over my every thought. Things were good. Life was good. I was happy. Then, my mother waltzed back into my life.

Over the course of our relationship, reality slowly started setting in. And when I say slowly, I mean slooooooowly. It took years for me to process what I was actually feeling. Day by day and story by story, every little piece of me that had been covered in a blanket of denial was being exposed...and it hurt.

The more I got to know my mother, the more I hated everything about my past. I hated her mother for making her do it. I hated my aparents for not giving me a life like my siblings, their biological children, had. I hated myself for not trying to find her sooner. I hated life just because I existed. Then...she waltzed out of my life just as quickly as she came into it. More feelings of anger and hatred emerged. I hated her for abandoning me again. I hated her just because she didn't fight harder in the beginning. I hated myself for hating my aparents...they maybe didn't always protect me, but they didn't pop in and out of my life when convenient...their lack of interest in my life was always consistent -- I knew that I could never really count on them. I was overcome with anger that I never knew even existed inside me. It was ugly, and I did not like it at all.

After many hours of therapy, I was once again sloooooooowly learning to deal with life. Then, my mother comes back into my life once again with a whole new perspective on our relationship and life in general. It's been nice. She's been consistent. I feel happy. So...that's where I've been and where I am today. I am upbeat because I have immersed myself back into the sea of happiness. I have forgiven her of the past four years of rejection. I want to believe that she means it this time and she is going to be there for me to the end. But, the only way that I can believe that is to push the past back in my mind as far as I can. I can't change the past, but I can change the way I look at the future.

My life has been such a contradiction. That is why I have not felt like blogging. I know how a lot of you feel about adoption...whether you are an adoptee, first mom/natural mom/birthmom, or AP...there is so much hurt and heartache involved in the triangle. I don't want to get on here and talk about how great my reunion is and how perfect my relationship is with my mother, because it would not be entirely true. However, if I get on here and talk about how angry I am and how hard it is for me to trust anybody, it will be really hard for me to move forward.

Who knows where I will be a week, month, year from now. I may look back at this post and laugh at my stupidity. I guess I'll have to be ok with that. All I know is that I don't want to let my past dictate my future. Putting myself out there is not easy, but I can no longer beat myself up about every decision I make regarding my adoption. It is what it is, and I'm trying my best to deal with it.

So, I'm taking time to work on my attitude. I'm working on focusing on the positives in my life instead of dwelling on the negatives. I want to be a better wife, mother, and friend. I want to be there for those who are there for me and I can't do that when I am wallowing in my own self-pity. It's time to make some changes in my life. So, for the past month, that is what I have been working on.

So, that's my ugly truth. That's what I have been up to and why I have not been blogging. I thought about deleting my blog for a while, but I don't want to do that. I think we all have a story to share and in sharing it, we are able to make an impact on others going through a similar situation. This journey is truly a rollercoaster. I can click the "publish post" button, talk to my amother and then suddenly be overcome with a completely different point of view. However, I hope I am able to focus more on what I have now and not on what I have lost. We all need some healing, in one way or another, and I am hoping that this is mine.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Who's your daddy?

So...I know who my daddy is. I also know that he doesn't want to have anything to do with me. I've seen him, twice. He didn't know who I was at the time, so it was kind of cool and kind of creepy all the same. I didn't talk to him. I didn't run over to him and give him a hug. I didn't call him repeatedly over the course of a few months begging for his love and acceptance. I did absolutely nothing, but sit in a chair about 10 feet from him and glance his way periodically so not to seem like I was staring., why?

When I think about my birth mom and the idea of her abandoning me again, it breaks my heart. Her absence in my life is so notable. I know I say that a lot, but it is so, so true. My relationship with her is very important to me. I just don't understand why I don't feel the same way about my birth father. Does anyone else feel this way about either parent?

I don't know if it is because she found me and showed interest from the beginning. I don't know if it is because I blame him for not 'being a man' and helping my mom financially so she could keep me. I don't know if it is because I am so emotionally drained from figuring out my relationship with my birth mom that I don't feel like I have room for him. I've wondered if it is because I am a girl and I relate better to my mom. I just don't know.

I guess I don't really have any answers. All things adoption, for me, usually end in a long series of questions and then me saying, "I just don't know." ::sigh:: Maybe one day it will all click and start making sense, but I'm not holding my breath.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

A second chance?

I did a post a few weeks ago about regrets. I mentioned within that post that I did have some regrets about how I have handled things along my reunion journey, but I am learning as I go. Since the past cannot be changed, I can only learn from my regrets and hopefully not make the same mistakes again. But, sometimes those second chances come quicker than you think.

This coming Saturday would have been my natural grandmother's 69th birthday. One evening while I was on the phone with my birth mom, she started talking about her mom's upcoming birthday and how hard that day was going to be. I realize that 'firsts' are always hard when you lose someone you love, so we talked about that. The next day, she called to ask me if I would want to go to the cemetery with her and a few family members to put flowers on her mom's grave, then go eat dinner and visit.

I'm sure you're probably thinking I am totally crazy for even momentarily thinking about saying I can't make it. It's so hard for me. I want to see my birth mom. It makes me feel really good to know she wants to include me. I want to be a part of my family. So, why is it so hard? What am I afraid of? I read other adoptee's blogs and am sometimes jealous about the relationship they have with their natural family. It seems so easy, natural, and unforced. I am SO afraid of rejection, that I am maybe a little too guarded. I worry about what people may say, how I will feel, will I be accepted.

So you may be again wondering, "Why is this so hard? What are you thinking?" Well...for me, it all goes back to the very reason why I was placed for adoption. It wasn't because my mom was only 17 and unwed. She had an 18 year old, unwed sister that had two children and one of them was being raised by her mom. She had to give me away because of my race. The fact that my father was black was a huge problem. Unfortunately for them, I cannot change that. I am who I am. I worry that my natural family may not accept me for who I am. If their reactions, issues, etc cause problems with my birth mom, it may lead to more rejection. I want to get past this. I want to be there for my birth mom. I want to do this for myself, but I'm so scared.

My birth mom and I talk quite frequently. Our conversations are good and I always get off the phone feeling better about our relationship then I did before. I have pessimistically waited for the ball to drop, the phone calls to end, the rejection to rear it's ugly head yet again, but so far I have seen nothing like that. I know she loves me and always has. I can hear it in her voice. She has told me too many times to count. She is my mom and I want to be there for her. I'm just scared.

Well, I have a couple of days to decide. She is not at all pressuring me, but I am putting a lot of pressure on myself. Why does it have to be so hard? This is one of those moments that I want to curse the day I was conceived. I didn't ask for any of this, but it is what it is. I've been given a second chance. It's up to me what I choose to do with it.

Monday, July 12, 2010

A brand new end

I am not a huge John Mayer fan, but I am a huge fan of music. No matter the mood, be it happy, sad, mad or glad, I can find a song that fits. With that said, I have loved the lyrics to his song, "Say". It has been one of the many anthems in my "re"reunion. One of my favorite verses from the song is, "Have no fear for giving in. Have no fear for giving over. You better know that in the end, it's better to say too much than never to say what you need to say again." I have always had a problem expressing my feelings to others. I grew up in a home that didn't really allow for that, so I don't know if it's a learned behavior or if it's just my personality. My guess is a little of both. Whatever the cause, it is a huge struggle of mine.

After the funeral, I more or less was prepared for my birth mom to slowly drift back out of my life. However, that did not happen. It was actually the complete opposite. She would call me about every other night. We would talk for quite a while, sometimes a couple of hours or more, about anything and everything. We talked about us a lot. She was a lot more forthcoming about her emotions. She talked repeatedly about feeling so guilty for giving me up, but she never really addressed the years of silence. Judging by some of the things she said in our conversations, I could piece together different reasons, but I really needed to hear from her what happened. I didn't want to guess, I wanted to know. Every conversation we had, I wondered if it was the last one for a while. I was tired of living with that fear that she was going to walk out of my life again.

As much as I wanted to just come out and ask her, I was afraid of how she would respond. Would it make her mad? Would she tell me I was being selfish just thinking of myself after her mom just died tragically? Would she hang up on me and never call again? Regardless of my fears, I had to know. I didn't want another conversation to go by without finding out what happened. I didn't want to make the same mistakes again. So, I finally got the nerves to say what I needed to say. Finally.

When I asked her what happened she took a deep breath, followed by another one, and then there was a long pause on the phone. I asked her if she was OK, and she said yes. I could tell she was crying. I quietly started crying as she explained. It basically was all the things I had assumed. Her husband did not know about me and when she told him, he was very upset. Not so much about me, but the fact that my biological father was who he was...a black man. (I guess some things never change.) He gave her a very hard time about that. She also said that she had an overwhelming amount of guilt and sadness about not being there for me. That she gave me away and let total strangers raise me. The fact that she missed it all. She said it was, and still is, very overwhelming.

So, I asked her if all of that was the cause, how was I to believe that things would be better this time around? The feelings were still there, why did she think she could "handle it" now? Again, long pause, deep breaths, lots of tears, followed with another explanation. She told me that she knew she was wrong. She was so disappointed in herself for how she handled our relationship and even during the time she was not talking to me, she thought about me every single day. She said my entire life, a day never went by where she did not think about me several times. She said that losing her mom was a huge wake-up call for her because it happened so quickly and without warning. She did not want something to happen to me and for me to not know how much I meant to her and how much she loved me and always has.

My birth mom and I are alike in so many ways it is often freaky. I don't know how many times I have wondered how you can be so much like a person you spent the majority of your informative years away from. Our similarities are good and bad. One of the bad ones is our lack to truly express how we're feeling. This time around, we have talked about this particular flaw and have vowed to share our feelings with each other and not hold anything back. So far, it has gone very well. I love sharing my life with her. I think we both have our moments where we think about what could have been. Those times are sad, but I'm trying my hardest to move beyond the past. I think my birth mom said it best. She said that no one can go back and make a brand new start, but anyone can start from now and make a brand new end. I'm really counting on it.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Mama, do you love me?

If you have small children, you more than likely have come across this book before while perusing the bookstore or library. Maybe it's the elementary teacher coming out in me, but I LOVE children's books. They're simple, sweet, and full of meaning. This book is no different. It is a touching story about a little girl who imagines different scenarios to test her mother's love and devotion. No matter what scenario the little girl comes up with, her mother reassures her and lets her know how deep her love is for her. It's a very sweet story about a child's insecurities and a mother's unconditional love.

I really struggle with this very thing in my reunion with my birth mom. Love is such a complex emotion. It is sometimes hard for me to understand how she could possibly love me. She says it, but how do I know she really means it? In some ways, I'm a little jealous of the girl in the story. I didn't have the opportunity to grow up in a world where I could ask that simple question, "Mama, do you love me?". After all, my mom gave me away. If she loved me, she would have kept me. She would have tried harder, fought longer, found a way to make it work. Now, here I am an adult... she was in my life, then out of my life, now she's back in and she's telling me she loves me? How do I know?

The connection I have with my birth mom cannot be described with words. I love her very much. Having her in my life is so very important to me. Deep down, I believe her when she tells me she loves me. I really do. It's just sometimes the child inside me fears that love could fade based on the different scenarios that I've imagined. But, I am slowly learning to trust. I just wish it were all a little easier.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Speak up now, please!

I have mentioned on my blog before that I speak occasionally at a local university on the topic of adoption. The class itself is entitled, "Issues in Adoption". The majority of the students enrolled are seeking to become social workers.

The professor of the class, D, is a family friend we got to know through church. At one time, she worked for a private adoption agency. She married and divorced never having children. She later adopted two children (not related) from Guatemala and was a single mom. I babysat for her when I was in high school and through college on a very regular basis. I was more or less a nanny to her boys.

Over the years, we formed a very close relationship. When I babysat and she would come home from work late in the evenings, I would stay at her house for another 2-3 hours just talking. She was very open minded and would talk to me about being adopted, my feelings, my thoughts towards my aparents and siblings, etc. She made me feel like it was okay to have a curiosity about my heredity. Growing up, I always knew I was adopted, but it was more or less just the giant elephant in the room. I never really felt like it was okay to talk about it. Needless to say, she was a godsend through a very informative part of my life.

D asked me several years ago, before I was in reunion, if I would be interested in coming to speak to her class. My first thought was "No, way!", simply because I am not a public speaker. The thought of a room full of strangers staring at me while I shared my adoption story made me cringe. However, D would not let up. She would ask each time a new semester started...4 times a year (counting the 2 summer sessions) to be exact! After about a year of asking, I gave in. How hard could it be?

The first time that I went to speak, I was still in major denial about any and all feelings I had adoption related. I went and shared with the class my feelings about my birth wonderful and brave she must have been to not abort me but instead make the ultimate sacrifice just so I could have a better life...a life she could not provide me...a life free from racial prejudice and an unsupportive extended family. I continued on with how I grew up in a financially stable home, I didn't 'stick out' in the family photo album, I had a great childhood, I grew up going to church, I went to college on a basketball scholarship, met a great guy, got married, had children...I had it all. What more could I have asked for in life? THAT was my story that I shared. And what's so sad is that I actually believed it. That is what I grew up believing my entire life. I am actually embarrassed to even post it, but it's the truth and I'm not going to stray from it..however ugly it may be!

At the end of my spiel, it's open to the class to ask questions. They asked all kinds of very personal questions, but I of course answered them with the textbook, "I'm a very happy, fortunate adoptee that was 'saved' by a wonderful, loving family" answer. Kind of sickening when I think about it. Anyway..this went on for a couple of years. During that time was when my birth mom 'found' me. After we were in reunion for a couple of years, she even went with me and spoke from a birth mother's point of view. I shared my fairytale adoption/reunion story, while she shared her story of unspeakable loss to happy ever after now that she had me in her life. I got to where I really liked going. It was fake therapy at it's finest. The more often I went and shared how wonderful my life was, the better I felt about being an adoptee. That was until the day I was asked one too many questions.

The kid was only in the class because he needed 3 more credits and thought that class would be easy. He would be the one to ask a question that left me speechless. At the time, my birth mom had rejected me...again. She was actually supposed to be at the class to speak with me but never showed up so I went alone. I wasn't in the best frame of mind, but had promised D I would be there and I am NOT a promise breaker. I went through the is great, I'm so fortunate, blah, blah, blah...and then started taking questions at the end. I was getting ready to wrap up when his hand shot up in the air. It was like he just had an epiphany or something. I called on him and he said, "Are you really as happy as you say that you are? Something about you tells me there is more to the story than you're sharing. I'm only here because I have to be, but something about your story makes me want to stay longer because I want to hear more. I want to hear the whole truth." could have heard a pin drop. I was speechless. After a couple of minutes, and YES, it was a couple of minutes so it felt like an hour, I told him something along the lines of everyones life has things they wished were different, but overall I was happy and that was it. It was a bunch of BS...he knew it, I knew it, for all I knew everyone knew it...but I wasn't ready to admit it.

I left as soon as I could with D following after me while she let the class have a 10minute break. She wanted to talk, but I told her I was fine. The question just caught me off guard. I could tell that she too knew I was a fraud. There was nothing legit to my story. I fought hard to keep myself composed and left the campus. I haven't been back since. How in the world could I share my experience when I couldn't admit the truth. The class was supposed to teach the students about issues in adoption. What help was I when I was just pretending that there are none. I was humiliated and so disappointed in myself.

Well, it has been almost 3 years since that dreadful, eye opening day. D called today and has asked me to come speak to her class in August. I have agreed. However, this time I am going to tell the whole matter how hard it might be. I never realized how big of an opportunity I had until it was brought to my attention that I was being a fake.

I have a month, but I am preparing now. I would appreciate your help. If you could share one thing with this group of students about adoption, what would it be? The purpose of the class is to teach about adoption issues. We all have them. I do not know one person affected by adoption that does not. So...speak up now, please! I'm listening and ready to share.

Sunday, July 4, 2010


We all have them. I think it's impossible to live a life with absolutely no regrets I think that's why we have the saying, "hindsight is 20/20"...or something like that.

I definitely have my share of regrets in my life. There have been plenty of times that I wished I could take something back I said, say something that I chose to keep to myself, reacted differently to a situation...the list is endless. My reunion journey has been no different. When conversations did not go well I would think of all that I should have said differently. When opportunities arose to ask questions and I didn't, I would get so frustrated at myself for letting the moment pass by without mentioning anything. When I needed to do something just because it was the right thing to do and I didn't, I would wonder over and over again if the choice i made would haunt me later.

I know I'm not alone. I am sure everyone has something they wish they could go back and change. However, since that time machine has yet to be invented, there is no other choice than to move on. That is something that I have been trying to work on. It's hard, but I'm trying.

So, back to the story... The night before the funeral I talked to my birth mom. I didn't go into a lot of detail about my feelings, our relationship, not really feeling a part of the family, etc, but I did touch the surface on it all. We had a very good talk and she said that she understood. She told me that she had a lot of regrets about how she treated me and how she handled our relationship. She sounded like she truly did see where I was coming from and that made me feel very relieved.

At the end of the conversation, I told her that I would not be there. She again told me that she understood and apologized for things not being different. I thought that I had made the right decision. That was until the next morning.

I hadn't slept well the night before and woke up feeling very unsettled. As I was driving to school, I kept thinking that I should be driving an hour and a half the opposite direction to the funeral. I was constantly looking at the clock thinking of her and what she was doing as it came closer to the time for it to begin. Even though I had a very good conversation with her the night before, I could not get her off my mind. The what-if's were starting to set in and I was afraid I'd regret my decision.

I am always looking for 'signs'. Since I am a terrible deciison maker, I always play games with myself and look for a sign to help me decide what to do. Not being there was driving me crazy. I didn't know what to do. I told her I wouldn't be there. Now I was regretting it. I had a hundred other thoughts going through my head, so I decided I needed a sign. I was going to call my birth mom and if she answered, I was going to tell her that I would be there. So, I did. And she didn't answer. That was my sign.

I arrived at school and started the day. I usually do not keep my phone out because I do not have time to talk while teaching, but for some reason I did. Halfway through the morning I saw my phone flashing, so I knew i had missed a call. It was her. She had left a message.

I had my teacher's assitant watch my class while I stepped out of the room to check it. When I heard her voice I lost it. She sounded so sad. She told me that she was sorry she missed my call. She went to the funeral home by herself to say goodbye to her mom. She said it was very hard, but something she needed to do. She said that she really wished I was there and that would have been good, but she understood. She said she loved me and would call me later that night. Oh...sometimes life REALLY sucks!

Do I have regrets about my decision? Yes, I do. However, I have come to look at all of this as a learning process. I don't think there is anything that can prepare you for this journey. There is no amount of therapy that you can get to ensure you that you will make all the right decisions and get through this without an ounce of regret. It's impossible. So instead of beating myself up over my past, I'm trying to learn from those mistakes. Maybe it will get easier down the road. At least it's a start, and I think I owe that to myself.

Friday, July 2, 2010

Now or Never

I was heavy with sadness. I was so torn as to what I should do. I was angry that it was a decision that I had to even contemplate. What child should have to make a decision as to whether or not it was appropriate to attend their grandmother's funeral? It was, however, my reality and I had a choice to make.

I thought about my relationship with my birth mom. It had been nonexistent for the past four years. But if this accident had truly caused her to change and she really wanted a relationship with me, would I later regret not being there? I beat myself over this for the five days until the funeral.

I felt like I had no one to turn to. I wasn't seeing a therapist at that time and I did not have much support from my husband and friends. I did not blame them at all. I would have been the same way if the tables were turned. I totally understood why. They dealt with my tears, anger and frustration in relation to how she had treated me. They only knew that she had hurt me. They thought I needed to forget about her and move on with my life. If only it was that easy.

I had been talking to my birth mom throughout the week since the accident and before the funeral and had caught up somewhat on what was going on in our lives since she stopped communicating with me. I decided that I would just talk to her about the funeral and why I was not comfortable going. Each time we talked I had the words on the tip of my tongue, but I could not bring myself to do it. It seemed so insensitive on my part. She was grieving her mom's death and, at the time, did not know what her dad's outcome was going to be. She was planning a funeral with her sisters, her dad was in a coma in a hospital in another state unable to even attend his wife's funeral, she had a recurrence of cancer, and she was separated from her husband. I felt like I was just being a baby and I needed to get over myself. This was about her...not me.

However, that was my problem and continues to be to this day. I am always excusing the behavior and actions of others because I feel like I'm being selfish if I mention how I feel. I so often get caught up in what is going on in other's lives that I do not take care of myself. Why would anyone treat me with respect if they know I'll take whatever crap they give me, forgive easily, then move on like nothing ever happened?

Despite my feelings, I still had to decide what to do. I only had a day left to do it. Should I stay or should I go? Did I mention I am a terrible decision maker? I wish I had the support of my adoptee friends I have now at that time. I know it would have helped.

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

No one ever said it would be easy

When she called the next night, we talked for quite some time. She shared more details about the accident, how her dad was doing, and some of the drama surrounding extended family as well as the plans they had for the funeral. I just listened and tried my hardest to wrap my head around everything that was going on. Why does life have to be like this? Why does everything have to be so complicated? WHY DID I HAVE TO BE ADOPTED?! I found myself in probably the worst dilemma I had ever faced.

On one hand, I had been trying to reach out to my birth mom for years. I wanted her in my life so bad I could hardly stand it. I called, I wrote, called again, wrote again, called, called, called, wrote, wrote, wrote for FOUR YEARS with no response. I cried buckets of tears over the whole situation and put my family and friends through hell and back all because I wanted her in my life. I had FINALLY got to a point where I was nearing acceptance. I had to. I heard how she felt about me. Even though I didn't believe it, she still said those words. She treated me like crap with no regard to my feelings whatsoever. And now, her mother is gone, she's grieving, she's hurting beyond words...and now she's back, and she wants me in her life.

Not only does she want me in her life, but she wants me to be at the funeral. Not just the funeral, she wants me to attend the "family viewing" and stay for the meal afterwards. Seriously? She had not talked to me in four years. At that point, I still did not know if her son knew that I even existed. I guess I should mention that she also shared with me that my name and my children's names were not included in the obituary because it would possibly complicate things for her dad when he got better. OK... BUT I am supposed to attend the family viewing, family dinner, and funeral? SERIOUSLY?!

I was back at square one. I did not feel at all a part of my biological family. I was denied that at birth, and then again 28 years later. My emotions and thoughts were all over the place. Since my birth mom was grieving, I felt it was not the time or place to share why I was not at all comfortable attending. I wanted to so bad. I wanted to know what had happened the four years she ignored me. I wanted to tell her that if she wanted me to be a part of the family she needed to treat me like I was. If she didn't want my name listed as part of the family that was fine, but please do not expect me to come sit with the family and pretend as if I belonged there. I had pretended to feel like I belonged somewhere my whole life. I was tired of lies, deception and feeling inadequate. I wanted to belong, and this was definitely not it.

So, back to my dilemma. I love her. A lot. I wanted to be there for her. She had hurt me, but I knew she was hurting. I didn't want to leave her hanging like she did me. But, as much as her words said she wanted me there, her actions were not showing that. She was still denying me from being a part of the family. I could be there in body, but my name would not be included in anything.

Now, I realize that it can take a traumatic event to make you wake up and realize that life is too short to live with regrets. But how did I know if this was real? How did I know that she was so distraught she was just reaching out to find something to make her feel better. Anything...even if it was her rejected daughter. I loved her, but I did not know if I trusted her.

I had a major decision to make and I am probably one of the worst decision makers EVER. If it involves solely myself, it's not quite as difficult for me to decide what to do. However, if others thoughts and/or feelings are affected by the decision I have to make, in my head it becomes virtually impossible. It does not matter how big or small it is...what movie to watch or whether or not to attend a funeral can be incredibly tough decisions for me. I worry too much about letting others down. It is a definite character flaw that I have abhorred my entire life. I was at a loss. I was afraid if I didn't go, I may regret it later. But I was also afraid that if I did go, everyone would wonder who I was and why was I there? I did not want to feel rejected and out of place. Not again...I didn't know if I could take it.

I was back on the roller coaster. I couldn't think. I wanted so desperately to find a way out of the situation. Unfortunately, there was not one.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

The Accident

My daughter had a basketball game the day I received my birth mom's message. It was in a different town, so I knew I would be on the road for a while that afternoon. As I was getting the kids ready to head out the door, I kept playing her message over and over in my mind. I was very curious why she was calling. She sounded alright, maybe a little distracted, but I figured something big had to of happened for her to think she needed to break her silence and call. I decided that I should call her before I left and see if she even would answer. For all I knew I maybe missed my chance to talk to her. So, I took a deep breath and called her back.

She answered right away. She sounded different. I didn't know if it was because it had been a while or if it was the situation, but something was different about her. She told me she didn't have a long time to talk, but needed to let me know that there had been an accident at her parents' house. She preceded to tell me the specifics....
In a recent ice storm all of the power in the area where her parents lived was lost. They had a propane heater that had malfunctioned, therefore leading to an explosion that burned their house to the ground. Both of her parents were there when it happened. Her dad was severely burned,flown out of state for care and her mom had passed away in the blast.

I was absolutely speechless. Literally, I did not have any words. There was just a long silence. My heart was broken for her for so many different reasons. The accident was horrific. Losing someone you love is hard, but such tragic circumstances seemed to make it that much worse. I also knew that she and her mom were very, very close. Her mom was her best friend. She talked to her about everything. I knew she was devastated.

It took me a minute to finally choke up the words, "I'm so sorry." That was all that I could say. She was crying, but very calm. I could hear a lot of talking in the background. She told me that she was at her parents' house with her sisters trying to find a fireproof safe with documents in it so she needed to go, but would call me when she got home later that evening. She told me she loved me and then hung up.

I was still in a state of shock. I could not believe what had happened. The accident, the phone call, her voice, her telling me that she loved me. I was so confused and so sad. I cried for her, for her family, for myself. After a moment, I got myself back together and headed out the door to my daughter's game.

For the rest of the day, I could not stop thinking about the conversation. Had it really happened? Was her mom, my grandma, really gone? Why did she call me? Why did she think I needed to know? Was she even going to call me back like she said?

For obvious reasons, I was not expecting a call that night. Given the fact that she had not returned one of my calls in years, coupled with the turmoil she was going through, it was a logical conclusion. And I was right. She didn't call. She sent me a text: "I am so sorry for not calling tonight like I promised I would. I got in later than I thought. I will call you tomorrow." And she did.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

And the story continues to unfold....

Fast forward to a month after sending the letter to my birthmom. It is now the end of January of 2010. For the first time in the nearly 4 years since being out of contact with my birth mom, I felt that I was at a better place. I had finally reached a point where I realized that my life would not include my biological mother. Did I still think about her? Of course. Was I still disappointed things were not different? Definitely. I still felt the loss, but the sting was finally starting to numb. I had a family of my own that needed me to be the best I could be. So, I was doing just that...trying to be my best.

That all changed one Saturday, when I received a call from my birth mom. When I saw it was her, I immediately shut down. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to answer the phone, but a huge part of me was saying -- 'NOOOOOOO!!!". "What in the world could she want?" "She hasn't called you in 4 years!" "You are FINALLY beginning to cope without her." -- Needless to say, I didn't answer it, but she left a message. I waited a couple of hours to listen to it. I'm not sure why I waited so long. I guess I was trying to prepare myself, but I have no idea what for. When I finally listened to it, this is what she said:

Hi. It's me. I was just calling to tell you that there has been
an accident at mom and dad's and I felt like I needed to tell
you about it. Please call me as soon as you can. I'll talk to
you later. Bye.

So...what do you think happens next? I asked myself a hundred questions after listening to her message several times. I will post the details within the next couple of days. Wondering when the drama will end? Me too! ::Sigh::

Friday, June 11, 2010

Moving on

What could I do other than move on with my life? She had not been a part of my life for a few years, and the chance phone conversation we had obviously gave me quite a bit to think about.

I played the conversation over and over in my head. The more I thought about it, the less I understood why she said all of the things that she said about me to her friend. It was like she was talking about a completely different relationship...not ours. The things she said were not even true. We talked on the phone often, but at random times throughout the day...not way late so I was keeping her up. She usually came to visit me instead of the other way around because of her family at home. She always told me it was easier that way. I am not sure what she meant about not telling my family about her. It was difficult, but I told them about her before I ever started my contact with her.

I was beyond confused, but had no choice other than to move on. I had wanted to know what happened, why she stopped all contact with me...I got my answer. Not at all what I wanted to hear, but it was an answer.

I am pretty good at hiding my feelings. I had years of practice, so it really didn't take much effort to muster up a smile and act like everything was OK. Any spare time that I had, I filled it with other tasks to keep my mind busy. The key was to stay as busy as possible so I didn't have time to think. If I didn't have time to think, I didn't have time to feel. That was the plan, at least. However, this was different. It was much more difficult than I thought.

The fact that I was rejected by my birth mom for the second time hurt me to the core. No matter how hard I tried to bottle it up and stuff it as deep as I could, the reality was still there. Every time I looked at one of my own kids, I wondered "how could a mother reject her own child?". I understood the adoption part of it...she was young, she thought she was doing the right thing by me. I got that. I had accepted that. But to be given a second chance, just to reject me again was like a slap in the face. I started questioning myself and wondering what was wrong with me. Why didn't she want me? What made me so unlovable?

A couple months had passed and still no word. You would think, by now, I would not be holding on to the hope that she would call or write. She had proven to me that she was not interested. She had completely bashed me and our relationship to a new friend of hers, but there I was...still waiting, wondering if today was going to be the day.

After talking to my bf's one day, I finally got the push that I needed. I was forced into reality and realized that I had 3 babies of my own that needed me. I had been so depressed and so hurt by everything that had happened, that I was not the mother that my own children deserved. It was time for a change. As much as it hurt, as hard as it was, I HAD to let her go. So, I sat down and wrote her a letter.

I can't remember everything that I wrote about. I told her that it would be the last letter or form of contact that she received from me. I took the comments that she had made in her letter into consideration as I wrote it, mentioning several false accusations she had mentioned. It wasn't an angry letter, but it was very honest and straight forward. I mentioned feeling hurt about the things that I heard her say. I told her that if she would have voiced her thoughts and feelings to me, we maybe wouldn't have got to the point we were at. I told her that I was hurt, but needed closure to the situation so I was basically saying good-bye. I told her from that point forward, the ball was in her court. I had tried and tried to force a relationship that she obviously resented and I was done. I wanted her in my life, but I didn't have anything left. I fought for four years, and received nothing...not one letter, one phone call, absolutely nothing.

It was around Christmas when I wrote the letter and for some reason I felt compelled to include our photo Christmas card. She had not seen my 3 year old and 9 month old before. I had withheld sending pictures with any letters I wrote her while we weren't talking. It was really just my way of controlling the situation as much as I could. Crazy, but true. In order to truly move on, I felt like I needed to let go of my anger towards her and the situation as much as possible. I guess the pictures were a peace offering of sorts.

I read the letter twenty times, at least, before I finally sealed the envelope and dropped it in the mail. As I dropped it in the mailbox, I did feel a small glimmer of hope as I walked away. I hoped that maybe she would find it in her to want to call me. Maybe something I said in the letter would move her just enough to want to reconcile our relationship.

Hope was the only thing that kept me going. Others may think of it as a weakness...pathetic, ridiculous, naive..whatever you want to call it. However, for me, hope was the one thing that no one could take from me. When I found myself in the darkest moments of my life, all I could do was hope for a sunnier tomorrow. So that is what I did.

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Be careful what you wish for...

'cause you just might get it. You know how I said "If I only had some closure, it would make it easier to move on?". That's what I wished for...and I definitely got it.

After I heard my birthmom say that she had a secret, I was drawn into the conversation. I wanted to hang up, but I couldn't. What I was hearing was tearing me apart, but I still would not hang up. I continued to stay on the phone and listen to her describe our relationship to her friend.

She first explained her secret. She had placed a baby for adoption when she was 17 years old. She had wondered my whole life how I was and where I was. She explained that she had 'found' me when I was 24 and was good with that. That is all she wanted. She didn't want a relationship with me, she just wanted to make sure I was ok. Once she found out I was ok, she was ready to move on. However, I made that difficult for her. I would call her all the time and keep her on the phone really late. She said that was really hard on her because she had to get up and go to work early, and I didn't understand that. She talked about how she would come see me often and I didn't return the 'favor' near as much. She talked about how I wanted her family to know all about me, but I didn't want my family (meaning my adoptive parents) to know about her. She also said that I only wanted it to be her and me, no one else, and that was hard because she had a child at home still to take care of. She said I blamed her for all of my abandonment issues and I made her feel so guilty. She also mentioned how it totally pissed her off that I didn't tell her when I had my son and how she found out that I had him. One thing that sticks out the most is when she said that if she knew it was me, she would not have answered. Ouch. I couldn't stand to hear anymore, so I hung up the phone.

There was more than that said and it was all explained in much more detail. It still breaks my heart to think about it. As I listened, I couldn't believe she was saying all those things. We had some issues, no doubt. There was a huge adjustment period after the honeymoon phase was over, but I NEVER, EVER, EVER thought that I was that much of a burden on her. I could literally feel a physical pain in my chest as I listened to how big of an inconvenience I was to her.

After I hung up, I sat in my husband's recliner. I felt completely numb. I felt like crying, but I was still processing everything I heard. Was that really true? Is that really how she felt about me? In the four years that we were in contact, I never felt that she couldn't stand me. It was a very, very low moment, but even lost in the trenches of that moment I had a little hope that she would call me the next day like she said she would.

I continued to sit there, trying to process everything that she said. I was devising a plan. When she called the next day, I was going to talk to her about what I overheard and explain why I was the way that I was. I was going to tell her the truth about my afamily and the abuse and loneliness that I had experienced growing up. I was going to tell her that I didn't have the fairytale life growing up and I had always longed for her. I would explain that once I had her in my life I tried maybe a little too hard for fear that I would lose her. I had it all figured out. Now that I knew why she had turned her back on me, I was going to talk to her and win her back. I now knew what I needed to do and not do to have the relationship with her that I desired.

I waited the next day for her phone call. I waited, and waited, and you probably imagined, she did not call back. BUT, I still had hope. I figured maybe she got in later then she planned, so she would call back the next day. I waited again, and again, day after day, OH MY WORD!!!! I am beyond pathetic! I wanted closure, and Lord knows, I had it. I had all the information I needed to know that she did not want me. It hurt, but I needed to move on. I didn't need that in my life. I had my own babies to focus my time and attention on. Let her go!

But, the truth is, I honestly (and still to this day) did not believe she meant any of the horrible things that she said. There is no way. I refused to believe it, because I knew her. I knew how she hurt. I knew how she tried to get me back shortly after I was born and already placed with my adoptive family. I knew how she searched for me. She found me, not the other way around. I had listened to her tell me, on a number of occasions, how much her decision to give me up changed her life and she wished more than anything that she could go back and do it differently. I KNEW that she cared and I KNEW that she loved me. There was no way that she had been lying to me before. I didn't know what was going on with her, but I knew that those things she said were not coming from her. So, I clung to the past and I focused on only the good things that she had said about me and our relationship. Call it naive, but I would not accept what I heard as truth. I continued to hold on to that hope that she would come back to me.

So, back to "be careful what you wish for.."...Was I really looking for closure? No, I was not. I was looking for my mom and I was not going to give up until I found her.

Friday, May 28, 2010


Two more years had passed since I saw my bdad. It had also been two more years since I had heard from my birth mom. As much as I liked to pretend that I was OK and had moved on, that was really not the case. Absolutely no one understood why I wanted to pursue a relationship with her. My husband got upset every time I talked about her. He didn't get why "I let her bother me so much". My two closest friends got irritated pretty much at the mention of her name. They all knew that she hurt me, and they were done with her. I realized that she hurt me, but I just wanted more. I kept thinking, if I only knew what happened to cause her to stop talking to me I would be able to move on. Sitting in the dark, so to speak, alone with my thoughts was driving me nuts. I needed some closure. At that time, I didn't care what she said to me. She could tell me how awful, needy, and suffocating I was...I didn't care. At least I would know what was wrong. Not knowing was very difficult for me.

It had been a year or more since I had tried to contact her. It wasn't really by choice, however, after writing several letters and calling multiple times, you kind of start to feel like a freak. So, I let it go. Outwardly, at least. One evening, I was driving home from my friends house. I had been thinking about her a lot. A lot of personal things were going on in my life and it's usually at those moments when I wanted to reach out to her more. It was also right around her 50th birthday. I had told my friends earlier that if I only had some closure, maybe I could move forward. I knew it was crazy. Who was I kididng? I figured I didn't have anything to lose. More then likely, she wouldn't even answer. So, I decided to take the plunge. I took a deep breath, scrolled down to her number in my phone, took another deep breath, and then pushed send. One ring...two rings...three rings..."Hello?"

I almost dropped the phone. It took me a minute to collect myself. It had been almost four years since I had heard her voice. When I said her name and told her it was me, I was afraid that she would hang up, but she didn't. She didn't sound thrilled to be talking to me, but she was civil. She shared a few things that had been going on with her. All of them were major, so I hated not knowing about them or not being there for her. She asked what I had been doing. Since we had talked last, I had another baby, so we talked about that. After about ten minutes, she said she needed to go. She said she was with a friend out of town celebrating her birthday, but would be back home the next day and would call me then.

I DID NOT want to hang up the phone. I had a feeling if I did, it would be the last time I would talk to her. She said good-bye, I said good-bye, and I sat on the phone waiting to hear her hang up. (I don't know why, but that's what I always do. Rarely do I hang up first. I always wait for the other person to hang up before I do. I guess I really do not like good-bye's!!) Anyway...I heard a beep, like she had pushed a button on her phone, but it didn't hang up. I guess she had pushed the wrong button and thought she had hung up. I don't know. Next thing I knew, she was talking to her friend about me. I heard her tell her friend that she had a secret. I should have hung up, but I was so curious as to what that 'secret' was and what she would say. I know I should have hung up, but I didn't. I sat on the phone for way longer then I should have and listened. What I was hearing would give me all the closure I ever wanted...and then some.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

A fairytale ending... was not. :( I didn't finish the post yesterday because I felt like they have all been so drab and depressing. I thought maybe a little fantasy world would be a nice change. Anyway...back to the story.

As I made eye contact with my bdad and he smiled and nodded, my first thought was 'I have to go tell him who I am.' My birth mom did not have very encouraging things to say about him when we were talking. I knew she had told him about me and that we were talking. He told her that he did not want to have anything to do with me because his wife would not be ok with it. I also knew that he had 2 other children that he did not have any kind of a relationship with either. So what made me so special? I definitely was not in the mood for rejection. However, the fact that my birth mom wasn't talking to me made me want to reach out to him that much more, but something kept holding me back. I am sure it was fear..the unknown. I didn't know if I even wanted to go there. Needless to say, the moment came and went and I didn't do anything about it.

His boys were there for a week. They were in 6th. 7th, and 8th grade. Much too young to be drug into the situation, I thought. Since my husband works there, I usually go there several times throughout the week with the kids to hang out and visit. That week, I did not go one time. I didn't know what to do. If he happened to be there again, what would I say? Would I leave him alone and pretend to not know that he is my dad or do I throw caution in the wind and belt out the news to him that would surely cause him to panic. I couldn't think anymore. I was so sad and confused. Once again, I hated myself, my life, my adoption. WHY did it have to happen? More then anything, I missed my birth mom. I would have given anything to talk to her at that moment. Ask her if she would come down and approach him with me or see if she would call and tell him the story of how I saw him. I really missed her.

I was given the very same opportunity the following summer. Same camp, same scenario...he leaning against the wall talking to everyone who passed. When he caught me looking his way, this time he smiled and said, 'How are you doing?'. There were soooo many ways I could have answered that question. I chose the easy route and said, "Fine, thank you."

That was the last encounter I had with him. I know his name and where he lives. I am sure I could easily find his address. I could write him a letter and explain everything. But the truth is, I am scared. I don't know if I'm ready for the risk. I am so afraid it's not going to work out. No matter what I tell myself going into it, if it doesn't work out I will be devastated...again. I'm just tired and fearful for the unknown. I put it all out on the line for my birth mom, and I think because of that I have become a little more guarded. I may later regret not having a conversation with him, but for now it's something I am willing to live with until I feel like I have the strength to pursue another relationship with my natural family.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

A chance encounter

Life goes on because it has to, NOT that I wanted it to. I thought about her all of the time. I had my days where I was so angry at her I couldn't see straight. She only lived an hour and a half away, so I contemplated driving to her house. I wanted her to look me in the eyes and tell me what I did wrong, why she was mad, and why she's completely turning her back on me again. I don't know what kept me from doing just that. Some of it was probably fear. I was afraid what I would find if I did that. I finally learned that this was my life now. I was grateful for the time we had together. I decided it was time to move on. It had to.

Over a year had passed since I had last talked to my birth mom. I still thought about her often and wondered where she was and how she was doing, but I moved on the best I could. I stayed busy with my kids, hanging out with my friends, teaching, gardening, and in the summers I helped at a camp that my husband helped direct. Busying myself was, and still is, how I cope with things. Basically, I don't cope, I just stay as busy as I possibly can so I don't have to think. Good plan, right?

Anyway, I was working registration at camp one afternoon with another girl. I overheard the girl I was working with talking to some campers' mom about the same hometown where I was born. Anytime I heard talk about my birthplace, my ears perked up a little. For one, it is in fact where i was born so that sparks some interest. It also is a very small town and if they grew up there, chances are they could very well know about me and my family. I look at them and wonder if somehow I am related to them or if they knew my biological family.

As the mother of the campers was writing a check to pay their camp balance, I asked the girl I was working with what their last name was. She showed me their registration card. I gasped as I read the name on the card. Would you believe me if I told you that they had the SAME last name as my biological dad? Turns out, it was the wife of my biological father and she was registering their three half brothers. Crazy!!!!

My heart skipped a beat as I was processing all of this. I quickly scoured over the small crowd that was there looking to see if I saw my biological dad. And I did. He was standing about twenty feet away from me, leaning against the wall and talking to a group of people. He caught me looking his way, tilted his hat and smiled at me. (Just being friendly. He didn't have a clue who I was. ) OMG...I could not get over it. What are the odds that this would happen? There in front of me was my DAD! I could not get over it. A million things raced through my mind (of course, my first thought was "I have to call my birth mom! She will not believe this!" I did later that evening. She did not answer or return my call though.)

So, what do you think I did? I'm interested to hear how you all would write the rest of this story. We need to have a little fun in all of this. The last few posts have been pretty depressing! Let me know how you think this encounter ended and I will tell the rest of the story tomorrow!

Tuesday, May 25, 2010


Had I of known that our last conversation was indeed that, our last conversation, I maybe would have chosen my words a little more carefully. I maybe would have asked for her forgiveness for being so stubborn and not understanding her side of things. I would have given just about anything to have that moment back, but it was too late. The moment had come, and she was gone.

A couple of weeks had gone by and we had not talked. Anymore, that was not unusual to go a while without talking. So, I decided to call her. I wanted to make amends. I missed her and wanted her in my life. I was tired of playing games and being stubborn. I decided to take that first step towards reconciliation and call. So, I called and since there wasn't an answer I left a message. A few days went by, no answer, left another message, no response. I called again, no answer, left a sobbing message, waited a few more days, still no response. Called again, and again, and again....left message after message after response. It had now been close to two months and I had not heard from her at all. I was worried. Worried about her safety, worried that this was the end of us. Just worried.

I then decided to write a letter. I do not know exactly what it said, as I sent several letters after that one. Some were sad and desperate sounding, I'm sure. Some were probably angry, full of questions and blame. She did not return any of my letters either. What was going on with her? We had been in our share of disagreements, but she always called me back or wrote eventually. It may be a few eeeks in between, but I always heard from her eventually. It was nearing my birthday, about 6 months since I had last talked to her. That was going to be my test. Ever since we were reunited, she had NEVER missed calling me and sending a card in the mail on my birthday. I was anxiously awaiting this birthday, for sure. Well, my birthday came...and left...nothing. No phone call, no card, absolutely nothing. I was worried.

I called her mom to make sure she was ok. I was starting to get really angry and I knew if something had happened to her and I wasn't told, I would never forgive myslef for being angry at her. Her mom said she was fine, she just had a lot of 'thinking' to do. I didn't ask what that meant, but figured it wasn't a good thing. I told her that I had wrote letters, made many phone calls, left a number of messages, all with no response. She assured me she would tell her I called and she would call me back soon. Again, weeks went by without a response. Now, I was angry! WHY IS SHE ABANDONING ME AGAIN!! I just wanted to yell, scream, shout, hit something...anything,I was hurt!

I cannot begin to tell you how many times I tried to call or write her. Each phone call, message and letter were BEGGING her to call me or write me. Tell me how horrible I am, tell me that you don;t want anything to do with me. Just tell me something...anything! Nothing, for me, was worse then being ignored. Anything she could have said at that moment could not have hurt worse then I was already feeling. Alone, betrayed, lost...I was absolutely pathetic.

I started to get really irritated at myself for being so ridiculous. Why could I not just get a clue? Move on? You lived 24 years without her, why do you think you need her now? She didn't want me. She was gone. Literally, in a flash, she was completely gone from my life. Even in my anger, I mourned the loss of my birth mom. I never knew how wonderful life could be with her in it until she was there. I never knew that a piece of me was missing and how I had always longed for her until she was there. Now that she was gone, I felt it. I really cannot describe the intense feelings that I had. I cried so many tears over her. I missed her so much, and now she was gone. Now what? Where in the world do I go from here?