Regrets

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.

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.

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.

Revelation

When I arrived at my parents house my mom was not there. Immediately, I felt somewhat relieved because my dad was easier to talk to about BIG, SHOCKING news then my mom. I knew he would take whatever I said and mull over it before he reacted. My mom, on the other hand, wore her feelings on her sleeve. She could not hide what she was thinking or feeling. So, like I said, I was relieved that I could talk to my dad first.

I am not a very blunt person. I take FOREVER to tell a story because I am very detailed oriented (hence this blog taking 500 posts to tell my story....) and hate to leave something out! Well, on this particular day, I was totally out of sorts. I walked in my parents' house and my dad was sitting at the kitchen table eating lunch. I didn't even ask where my mom was. I just blurted out, "My birth mom is wanting to have contact with me." My dad looked at me with a genuinely surprised expression, and said "Really?! That's great." I immediately relaxed. Maybe this will not be so bad after all, I thought. We talked for a little bit and I told him how I knew and the social worker that had called me, etc. After that, we started talking about my mom. He wanted to make sure that I understood that she probably would not take this news very well. He told me that he felt she would probably feel threatened that she was going to be replaced by a new mom. Of course, I felt guilty and reassured him that I would never do that. After about 30minutes or so of talking my mom came home.

Initially, she was concerned because it was noon and I was at their house and not at work. I told her everything was fine. Then my dad cut in and told my mom I had some big news. I could tell by my mom's face that she thought I was going to share that she was going to be a grandma again or some exciting piece of news of that sort. Again, I just blurted it out. There was no sugar coating it. I will never forget the look of horror on her face. It was as if I told her I had a terminal illness or something catastrophic had happened. She started shaking her head no and telling me that I couldn't talk to her. She said so many terrible things about my birth mom...how she didn't love me, she probably wanted something from me....I mean so many awful things that I can't even bring myself to type. I just sat on the couch and cried. I was so confused. I hated that this was happening. I hated that I was even born. I hated this situation. I hated adoption. I hated that I was feeling worse and worse by the second as I was listening to my mom rant.

After about 20 minutes or so, she calmed down. She wanted to know details about how I knew she was trying to contact me. She was really mad at the state because she felt they should have been contacted first. Even though I was well over the legal age of adulthood, my mom was angry that they were not contacted. She and my dad said, "What if we hadn't told you you were adopted and this was how you found out?" They immediately hired an attorney with the mindset that they were going to work to have laws changed to protect families of adopted children.

At this point, over the next few days, I started to really think about my life. I thought about my childhood and growing up. I thought of my siblings. I thought about my husband and my 9 month old baby. I slowly started to realize that life as I knew it, was changed forever. That in itself made me very angry. The blissful memories of childhood that I had clung to, were now overshadowed by the reality of this situation. Was I ever as happy as I thought I was? I always remeber feeling like I owed my parents my life. I could have ended up anywhere, but they took me in, fed me, clothed me, took me to church..all the things parents are supposed to do. I felt like I owed them the world and I spent a large part of my life 'paying them back'. Oh, the thoughts. They wouldn't go away.

I was raised thinking that my birth mom really loved me. My mom had always told me that she had to love me because she carried me to term instead of having an abortion. My mom would always tell me how brave my birth mom was. How difficult it had to be to know you had a child out there somewhere. How sad she must have felt at every birthday realizing that another year had passed without knowing who I was and if I was OK. The person who was now cursing the moment my birth mom was born, had told me all those things my entire life. I then became angry at my mom. I felt like she believed all those things as long as my birth mom was not in the picture. All I remember about those first couple of weeks was crying a lot. I would go from angry to incredibly sad, to excited, to scared, to sad, to angry, to sad...do you see the roller coaster here?

Over the next couple of weeks, every time I talked to my parents they were talking about the lawyer, the state, laws, etc. They never once asked how I was holding up, if I had decided to call her, etc. I knew that they were trying to deal with the news the best they could, but once again, I felt forgotten. I wondered if anyone cared about me. Does anyone understand or care to understand how I'm feeling?

My mom did tell me a couple days later that she was wrong for saying bad things about my birth mom. She admitted being upset and overreacting. However, as guilt ridden as I was, I knew my mom would feel betrayed if I ever did talk to my birth mom. Oh, how I wished I could get off the guilt train!! It literally was killing me!

We got to the point where we really didn't talk much about the subject at all. They were ready to move on, and to an extent, I was as well. However, the wedge between us was being driven a little further, pushing us farther apart. I would still be the same loving daughter. I would still be there to help with the family business. I would still be the glue that held my siblings together and keep the family as close as possible. I would still be who what they wanted me to be, but I had no idea who I wanted to be.

I carried my birth mom's name and phone number around in my wallet for several weeks. Based on my mom's reaction, I didn't know if I wanted to talk to my birth mom. I didn't know what she wanted and I was scared to continue putting myself and my family through all of the emotions if she wasn't in it for the right reasons. I have no idea what those 'un'right reasons would be, but I couldn't help but be curious. I never knew that I wanted to know my birth mom until that time came. I was so scared. I was so worried about my future from that point on. I knew as soon as I decided to pursue it, nothing would ever be the same. However, at this point, I felt like it was already too late. I was already changed.