...eventually, everything hits the bottom and all you have to do is wait it out until someone comes along and turns it around.
My life has definitely hit an all-time low over the course of the past 9 months. I found the bottom of the hourglass. I have struggled, unknowingly, my entire life with being adopted. I have struggled with my race, knowing that it was the cause of why I was adopted. I have struggled with my ap's, not being like everyone else in my family but the same was expected. I have struggled with what I want as an adult now that I have the option of having my first family in my life. I have struggled with letting people down in my life that have always been there in my quest to get to know my first family. I have struggled with seeming "ungrateful" for my ap's for providing a life for me that my first family did not. I could go on and on. It's just been a constant struggle. Even though I feel like I've hit the bottom, I am fortunate to have a husband, amazing friends, and family to help turn it around. I'm definitely a work in progress, but hopefully I'm returning to a better place.
So, the short version of what's been going on with me....
My dad's wife was the "friend" that was trying to contact me on Facebook. She didn't tell him about her search because she didn't want to disappoint him if she did find me and I didn't want to have anything to do to him. My mom had an EXTREMELY difficult time accepting the fact that my dad actually wanted to be a part of my life. She would call me crying and ranting about how he was a loser and the reason she had to give me away. I really think it was her extreme reaction that made me more curious about him. His wife kept messaging me on Facebook, along with my little brother. I messaged them daily for a couple of months before I finally called my dad. That was the beginning of a whirlwind of things in my life. My mom told me that she could not be in my life as long as he was in it and...that was it. I have not heard from her since...let's see, that's rejection #3 from her in case any of you are keeping track. My relationship with my dad has continued to grow. Don't think for a second that it is perfect, because it is FAR from that. We have had a LOT of issues to work through (mostly me) and I continue to struggle through things almost daily. I have a lot of why's, how's, and what-if's that constantly find their way in my head. It is a day to day process. He and his wife and my three brothers have been more then accepting towards me. I've spent a lot of time with them. My kids know them all very well and enjoy seeing them. His wife and I have become close, as she has been there to listen and help me process all that has transpired in our reunion. She understands things more from his perspective and has helped me see things from his point of view. She has told me what his thoughts were of me over the past 20 years that they've been together and how he's never hidden my existence from her. That was very imprtant for me to hear. I absolutely adore my brothers. It's been so much fun getting to know them and seeing how much we have in common. They call daily and want to know what is going on in all of our lives. It's been an experience completely the opposite of my reunion with my mom. It's very surreal, at times.
Through the course of my reunion with my dad, I have found out that a lot of the things that my mom told me about him and my relinquishment were not true. She openly admitted to a couple of MAJOR discrepancies right before she told me that she was moving on with her life and had no room for me in it. That has been hard, but it has given me a clearer picture of what happened 34 years ago. Being rejected by my mom again was a huge blow, but I definitely know where I stand with her now. It's sad, but I no longer have to wonder what she's thinking and if she cares about me. She has made everything very clear. Clarity is what I've been searching for for a very long time and I can honestly say I have it now.
So, that's the quick version of the latest news in my adoption story. There are a lot of details that have led me to where I am at now, but I can go back and tell bits and pieces later. I have sat down to type too many times to count and I could never find the right place to start. I hate when I struggle with things because it makes me feel like I am weak. I am slowly learning, though, that my strength comes from within. I am only as strong as my mind is telling me that I am. This is all just a continual work in progress. I'm ready for it to be a completed work, though. I wonder if that's even possible?? I guess time will tell.
Showing posts with label adopted family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adopted family. Show all posts
Friday, January 6, 2012
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 us...me...where/how 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.
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 us...me...where/how 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.
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.
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.
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.
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'! :)
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 you...how do you feel about that very same question? If you were asked, "What are you?", what would your answer be?
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 you...how do you feel about that very same question? If you were asked, "What are you?", what would your answer be?
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.
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.
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.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Trials
Growing up, for the most part, was probably like anyone else. Some good experiences and some bad. I had my share of trials, but I was able to get through them okay. I was loving and forgiving. Patient with my siblings and got along with just about everyone. Overall, I was happy.
My adoption was never a secret. I don't even remember my parents ever telling me about it. It's just like I always knew. I looked like I belonged with my family, so it wasn't like I stuck out. Everyone knew, and I was fine with it. I told my friends, teachers, whoever would listen. I guess I thought that made me interesting.My parents were always open about it. I would ask questions on occasion, but not often. Right before I got married, I had some lab work done. The results came back questionable and it upset my mom. She went down to the state's office and demanded as much medical history as possible about my biological family. She thought maybe there was something in my file that was not disclosed to them. She filled out some paperwork there that would change my life forever...but more on that later!
I remember friends, and even my dad on one occasion, asking if I ever wanted to find my 'real' parents. I always answered "No.". Thinking back, it wasn't that I did not want to meet them. It was more that I felt so guilty about it. I was afraid that I would be betraying my parents if I even thought about finding my birth parents. There were a few times I remember looking things up online about genealogy and such, but not knowing anything about where I came from made that a useless effort. The truth was, I did want to know. I did want to see if I looked like them, if they were still together, WHY did they do it, did they love me, did they think about me...I definitely was curious. I wanted to know them, but I could not admit it because of guilt. I loved my parents so much, I did not want to hurt them.
I went to college on a basketball scholarship and met my husband to be. I was happy. Life was great. We got married. I got pregnant...with twins! Since neither of us had twins in our immediate families, I instantly thought about my history. I wondered if my birth mom was a twin or if there were twins in the family. She, especially, was always on my mind. Never outwardly, I would not admit that to anyone because of guilt, of course. To make a long story short, my pregnancy was going great and suddenly at 26 weeks I found myself in labor and in the hospital. I was in the hospital for three days before our baby girls arrived...stillborn. To say that I was devastated would be an understatement. Having biological children was very important to me. I feared, since that was my first pregnancy, that dream would never happen. I had experienced my first major trial in adulthood. It made me evaluate myself and my life. It was at this time that I decided I HAD to know where I came from. I HAD to know about my medical history. I didn't think it was possible to find my birth parents, but I really wanted as much medical history that I could get from my adoption records. So, the search began.
Now I use the term 'search' loosely. I went to the state to see what I needed to do to open my file and get any records available. They gave me paperwork about an adoption reunion registry. Basically, you sign up, if a biological family member signs up as well it links you together and the contact can go from there. I filled it out, and eventually threw it away. I couldn't do it. I could not betray my parents.
Almost 11 months after losing the twins, we had our first baby. She was healthy and perfect in every way! I was in love. However, having her now made me even more curious about my history and, for the first time I admitted to myself that I felt a longing to know more about birth mom. Losing the twins and then having my own child made me realize that she made a decision I hoped to never have to make. I looked at giving a baby up for adoption as a death. I felt so bad for her. Leaving the hospital empty handed when you went in pregnant was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I can't imagine the pain and emptiness she felt the day she left the hospital without me. I knew she had to love me. I also had a desire to share my history with my own child now. Not knowing it made that impossible. Since guilt overtook me every time I thought about searching, I decided to step back and pray about it. I asked God to give me guidance and to help me find peace in whatever decision I made. I had NO idea what plan God had for me.
My adoption was never a secret. I don't even remember my parents ever telling me about it. It's just like I always knew. I looked like I belonged with my family, so it wasn't like I stuck out. Everyone knew, and I was fine with it. I told my friends, teachers, whoever would listen. I guess I thought that made me interesting.My parents were always open about it. I would ask questions on occasion, but not often. Right before I got married, I had some lab work done. The results came back questionable and it upset my mom. She went down to the state's office and demanded as much medical history as possible about my biological family. She thought maybe there was something in my file that was not disclosed to them. She filled out some paperwork there that would change my life forever...but more on that later!
I remember friends, and even my dad on one occasion, asking if I ever wanted to find my 'real' parents. I always answered "No.". Thinking back, it wasn't that I did not want to meet them. It was more that I felt so guilty about it. I was afraid that I would be betraying my parents if I even thought about finding my birth parents. There were a few times I remember looking things up online about genealogy and such, but not knowing anything about where I came from made that a useless effort. The truth was, I did want to know. I did want to see if I looked like them, if they were still together, WHY did they do it, did they love me, did they think about me...I definitely was curious. I wanted to know them, but I could not admit it because of guilt. I loved my parents so much, I did not want to hurt them.
I went to college on a basketball scholarship and met my husband to be. I was happy. Life was great. We got married. I got pregnant...with twins! Since neither of us had twins in our immediate families, I instantly thought about my history. I wondered if my birth mom was a twin or if there were twins in the family. She, especially, was always on my mind. Never outwardly, I would not admit that to anyone because of guilt, of course. To make a long story short, my pregnancy was going great and suddenly at 26 weeks I found myself in labor and in the hospital. I was in the hospital for three days before our baby girls arrived...stillborn. To say that I was devastated would be an understatement. Having biological children was very important to me. I feared, since that was my first pregnancy, that dream would never happen. I had experienced my first major trial in adulthood. It made me evaluate myself and my life. It was at this time that I decided I HAD to know where I came from. I HAD to know about my medical history. I didn't think it was possible to find my birth parents, but I really wanted as much medical history that I could get from my adoption records. So, the search began.
Now I use the term 'search' loosely. I went to the state to see what I needed to do to open my file and get any records available. They gave me paperwork about an adoption reunion registry. Basically, you sign up, if a biological family member signs up as well it links you together and the contact can go from there. I filled it out, and eventually threw it away. I couldn't do it. I could not betray my parents.
Almost 11 months after losing the twins, we had our first baby. She was healthy and perfect in every way! I was in love. However, having her now made me even more curious about my history and, for the first time I admitted to myself that I felt a longing to know more about birth mom. Losing the twins and then having my own child made me realize that she made a decision I hoped to never have to make. I looked at giving a baby up for adoption as a death. I felt so bad for her. Leaving the hospital empty handed when you went in pregnant was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I can't imagine the pain and emptiness she felt the day she left the hospital without me. I knew she had to love me. I also had a desire to share my history with my own child now. Not knowing it made that impossible. Since guilt overtook me every time I thought about searching, I decided to step back and pray about it. I asked God to give me guidance and to help me find peace in whatever decision I made. I had NO idea what plan God had for me.
The beginning
Now, my parents are not your average couple of the 70's. My mom was a nurse, and at the time they met, my dad worked for the state at a correctional facility. My dad's aunt, a little elderly Christian woman, was in the hospital and my mom was her nurse. She adored my mom and wanted her to meet my dad. Through my dad coming up to the hospital to visit his aunt, he got to know my mom. They didn't hit it off at first, but over time they fell for each other.
Now, have I mentioned that my parents are not the average couple of the 70's? They eloped in June of 1975 and had a small ceremony with a preacher and their best friends. They eloped because they knew their families would not be supportive of their decision to marry. Why not?, you wonder. My mom is black and my dad is white. Of course, their families had a very difficult time adjusting to this reality at first but over time they learned to accept it.
My parents were a little older when they got married, so they decided to start having children right away. Due to ovarian cysts, my mom lost a baby and was told she would never be able to carry a baby to term. After learning they could not have their own biological children, my parents chose to adopt. They went through the state, filling out applications, home studies, etc. Needing a break for a while, they decided to go on a vacation. Little did they know, after just a few short months, their case worker had already found them a child. The case worker called them to tell them that they had a baby girl, but could not reach them. The case worker eventually called my grandparents to get in touch with my parents. When my parents found out, they were ecstatic. My mom said that when they got home, they went straight to Sears and bought every baby thing imaginable. They could not wait to meet me.
A few months, even back then, was a very short amount of time to wait for a baby. In a small town, not far from my parents, my life was playing out. Two high school sweethearts were expecting a baby together. Their situation was similar to my parents in that they too were a biracial couple. My birth mom was white and my biological father was black. My birth mom had planned on keeping me through most of her pregnancy. She unfortunately did not have the support that she needed for herself or me. The situation went from bad to worse. She was told she would be on her own to raise me if she chose to keep me. She had to make a decision. She chose to give me a life she knew would not be possible for her to give me on her own. She made a choice that changed her life, my life, my parents, and everyone else that would be a part of our lives from that point on. She made the decision to relinquish her parental rights and have me placed for adoption. Since my parents were a biracial couple, my caseworker knew that they would be the perfect parents for me.
I was 3 weeks old when my parents met me for the first time. My mom said I had colic, thrush, and a bad diaper rash. I had been placed in two different foster homes for the three weeks before my parents got me. My mom didn't think I had been cared for real well. She wasn't very happy about it. She said that there was a waiting period where my birth mom could get me back if she wanted. I can't remember the exact time frame. My mom said she was very nervous during that time because they had instantly fell in love with me. When the time frame had passed, they finally relaxed and were so happy to have their baby.
My parents were contacted by the state when I was a few months old about another child. They had a little boy (2 years older then me) ready for adoption, but did not have a family for him. My parents started the process to adopt a big brother for me. Meanwhile, unbeknown to them, my mom was pregnant. She was able to carry my little sister to term. In a matter of 15 months, my parents had 3 children...ages 3, 1, and newborn, 2 adopted, and one biological. 5 years later, my parents were 'surprised' with my little brother, another biological child my mom was able to carry to term. My parents had their family.
Now, have I mentioned that my parents are not the average couple of the 70's? They eloped in June of 1975 and had a small ceremony with a preacher and their best friends. They eloped because they knew their families would not be supportive of their decision to marry. Why not?, you wonder. My mom is black and my dad is white. Of course, their families had a very difficult time adjusting to this reality at first but over time they learned to accept it.
My parents were a little older when they got married, so they decided to start having children right away. Due to ovarian cysts, my mom lost a baby and was told she would never be able to carry a baby to term. After learning they could not have their own biological children, my parents chose to adopt. They went through the state, filling out applications, home studies, etc. Needing a break for a while, they decided to go on a vacation. Little did they know, after just a few short months, their case worker had already found them a child. The case worker called them to tell them that they had a baby girl, but could not reach them. The case worker eventually called my grandparents to get in touch with my parents. When my parents found out, they were ecstatic. My mom said that when they got home, they went straight to Sears and bought every baby thing imaginable. They could not wait to meet me.
A few months, even back then, was a very short amount of time to wait for a baby. In a small town, not far from my parents, my life was playing out. Two high school sweethearts were expecting a baby together. Their situation was similar to my parents in that they too were a biracial couple. My birth mom was white and my biological father was black. My birth mom had planned on keeping me through most of her pregnancy. She unfortunately did not have the support that she needed for herself or me. The situation went from bad to worse. She was told she would be on her own to raise me if she chose to keep me. She had to make a decision. She chose to give me a life she knew would not be possible for her to give me on her own. She made a choice that changed her life, my life, my parents, and everyone else that would be a part of our lives from that point on. She made the decision to relinquish her parental rights and have me placed for adoption. Since my parents were a biracial couple, my caseworker knew that they would be the perfect parents for me.
I was 3 weeks old when my parents met me for the first time. My mom said I had colic, thrush, and a bad diaper rash. I had been placed in two different foster homes for the three weeks before my parents got me. My mom didn't think I had been cared for real well. She wasn't very happy about it. She said that there was a waiting period where my birth mom could get me back if she wanted. I can't remember the exact time frame. My mom said she was very nervous during that time because they had instantly fell in love with me. When the time frame had passed, they finally relaxed and were so happy to have their baby.
My parents were contacted by the state when I was a few months old about another child. They had a little boy (2 years older then me) ready for adoption, but did not have a family for him. My parents started the process to adopt a big brother for me. Meanwhile, unbeknown to them, my mom was pregnant. She was able to carry my little sister to term. In a matter of 15 months, my parents had 3 children...ages 3, 1, and newborn, 2 adopted, and one biological. 5 years later, my parents were 'surprised' with my little brother, another biological child my mom was able to carry to term. My parents had their family.
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