If she had only been stronger...

Would I be more confident in myself? Would I have a better understanding of who I really was? Would I still worry that the people I love in my life were going to leave me? Would I still bend over backwards to please people that hurt me the most? Would I be the same me?

No one knows. No one will ever know. Because she wasn't.

She said that she wonders what would have happened had she only been stronger. She said that she could not watch me be raised by my father's family. She said that she did what she thought was best for me. She said that she has been haunted by her choice her entire life. She said that she wishes she had been stronger.

But she wasn't.

Sometimes I wonder, too. If she had only been stronger, who would I be today? But then I realize, it doesn't matter. The past is the past. That cannot be erased. I am me. I am OK with that. I have to be.

We all have issues in our life that leave us to wonder, given a different situation, if your life would have turned out better. You can't dwell on it. It will only eat you alive. You have to move on. However, a small part of you will always wonder. I will always wonder. If she had only been stronger....

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.

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.

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.