Ann Fessler and Me: Me, Celeste, Heather and Bernadette at the ACC 2007 Conference: Oh, you weren’t interested in seeing pictures form the American Adoption Congress Conference You were looking for reunion pictures?
Visit The Adoption Truth Store on Cafe Press Most of these, I created because I WANTED them and there was nothing else like it out there. There are a bunch more things there, as I just updated the store and had a tiny bit too much fun. Well, actually I moved it to a new one since they wouldn’t let me update the old one decently and THEN, I made a bunch…
It is amazing of course. He is amazing..of course. It is just as I know it will be. We are just hanging and out and talking like we are great close pals that have not see each other in…forever…but we know each other..even though we don’t. We have a lot of catching up to do. Nothing is an elephant. Nothing is taboo. It’s all good…our feelings so similar..how we take it in..same. We talk about it all…past his life my life parents, siblings…it just IS. We sit and list the same things about us…..our favorite foods, asking questions…marvel and degree Nature as the clear winner…kicking nurtures ASS big time. And yeah, we finish each others sentences…at least once…and what a doozie!!
It was funny..people were very “ohhhh” and “ahhh” over my going to met Max tomorrow. But surprised that I was just going alone to see him?? And they would ask, “who is going with you? Don’t you have support?” and I was like…yeah, I’m here..what else do I need?? I don’t need someone to hold my hand when I do it, though maybe a photographer would be cool, but I want to have the time to process it afterwards and have others be thrilled for me..so what better place than a adoption conference?
I should be more excited, but part of me is like..yeah, I am going to go met my son for the first time in 19 years like I do this every day..but part of me HAS done this everyday. I have thought about this and rehearsed this, I have fantasied and imagined and wondered and tried to feel it so much, that this time, even if it is real, feels like pretend again. Just another day dream, this time with a better more well written script.
I just cannot imagine what it will feel like to see my son again. I cannot begin to pretend to know how I shall react, if I cry, if I am calm, if I am just a loon…I just can’t imagine. I don’t feel prepared at all, yet, it is time I know for this chapter in adoption to close. There is not much I think that we could have done to be more “ready” for an face to face adoption reunion.
I will confess my initial desire was to remove this from the “most popular” front page line up. I don’t want to talk about this really. I don’t want to have to open myself up to be judged and have nasty comments said again, but then, I realized that my desire was out of shame and fear. Mostly shame; not shame that I had this abortion, but that the possible reactions I feared triggered possible shame.
I know that this is one of the reasons we have so many issues, legislative restrictions and lack of viable options when it comes to safe and legal abortion services in this country is because of that shame. Having an abortion is something we still speak of in hushed tones. Oh, granted, no one should be out celebrating and for the most part it is a private matter, so what other folks think about it shouldn’t matter, but even among friends, we whisper. So while, my gut says take this post down, I know I cannot. I owe it to the women who have gone before me who have died in back alleys and fought for our rights to have legal safe abortions and I owe it to the women who will come after me who will still need to have the right to have legal safe abortions if they so need to. I owe it to my daughter to know that we have to stand up and not be afraid to be counted even if others might be mean to us.
If you can recall when you called me on the phone at my home on my son, Max’s, 18th birthday, I inquired as the location and availability of the relinquishment forms and my records. As I had previously stated, I never did receive a copy of anything I signed at the time and did now desire to have a copy of my legal records.
So Rye calls me today from work to ask me something as that is our main from of communication this week. I am asleep when he goes to work at butt o’clock am and then I go to work before he comes home and he is asleep when I get home..anyway..he mentions to me that Scarlett has seen some election commercial on TV that has her all fired up. Apparently,…
Now if you would please, take a minute and go re-read, or read if you happened to have missed it the first time, my post here regarding the coining of the word “Birthmother“. Now in case you happen to be a lazy ass, I will restate the key points: 1)I can imagine CUB coming up with th name based on having to make a good catchy acronym 2) Pearl S….
Yes, right now that is all this meeting is to him, but to me, oh so much more. I have had this conversation with him, in my head, hundreds of times. This almost feels like deja vu as I have planned it so much, thought it out, played his responses, planned my perfect wording. No, much more than just old friends we are. I had his baby and gave him away to adoption.
Driving on the LIE into the Midtown tunnel, you would knew that your were almost there when the Twin Towers graced the skyline. My children will never see that sight.
You say “Gotcha” and my mind races back to those days;with no regard to what it might be like, was like, is like. There is no room in the word “gotcha” for me. And while I can understand the feelings of joy my son’s parents had; heck, I comforted myself with the fantasy of what it was like for them..to balance it out, to give the pain some meaning, some purpose besides myself; I like to think that they did think of me..wondered too..if I was sad and feeling alone, empty. Like I thought of them..full of joy..loving my child.
To me there is a line. It doesn’t matter to me where you are when you are above (or below even) the line. You can be the most militant abolish adoption and hate it in all forms. You can be someone just struggling though. You can think that it worked out good for you personally. You can want reform, call yourself a first mom, an birthmom if you want. You can be in CUB, be in OriginsUSA, joined the social workers guild based on your experience, speak at conferences. I can’t judge that, that is YOUR truth. WE all fit somewhere..and does it matter exactly where you are on your journey?
Yes, I “decided” to lose my child. Yes, I was “very sure”. Yes, technically, I had ‘other options’, but in my heart, in my head..there was no other option just this thing that I must do for us both. I believed what I was told. I wanted to believe it since at least believing it gave me some hope. Of abortion, of parenting..both were dark and cold as seen by me. My views were skewed. Our lives at stake. And I was in no position to make this life long decision. Yes, I needed to be protected from myself.