Moving on

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Closure

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

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

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

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

Everyone needs an outlet...

I am hoping this blog becomes mine. The place that I can come to share my innermost thoughts, dreams, and fears. I am living a life that I sometimes do not know how to survive. On the outside, I have it all...my college sweetheart, picture-perfect children, a successful career, loving friends and family, a comfortable life...you get the picture. However, on the inside, I feel weak, helpless, and oftentimes, unlovable.

Over the years, I have discovered that being adopted has left me with many emotional scars. Scars that I never knew existed. I grew up knowing I was adopted, but I was pretty sure that I knew I was loved. I didn't realize how, deep inside, I longed for my birthmom. I longed for the woman who carried me for 9 months...fought for me, cried for me, wanted me to have more then she knew she could give me. I had no idea how much I longed for her, until she became a part of my life. At the age of 24, you figure out pretty quick that this is not a journey for the weak. This journey comes without an instruction book. Just faith and prayer that you will figure it out.

My faith got me through many dark hours, but I guess you get to a point where it feels like you do not have anymore left in you. Nothing to sustain you. However, by the grace of God, I will get through this valley and come out a better person on the other side.

Over the course of the next few days, weeks, maybe even months, I will share my story piece by piece. No one can understand the feelings associated with this kind of love unless they have been there. Thank you for following along and walking this road with me.