I’m late to the Adoption Carnival Party today, but I’m still going to play: This month’s Grown in my Heart Adoption Carnival is: Carnival III: Photos of Adoption. What is your most treasured adoption photo (or two)? Block out faces if you have to, find a scanner, or simply tell us about it if you can’t post it. We do understand that. For me, my most tresured Adoption Photos is…
Alas, it seems I am worthy of medical care. Armed with the shiny plastic insurance card, I am treated like someone worth fixing and so… My surgery to fix my broken arm has been set for August 18th. I’m trying to remain calm and matter of fact about it, but I can tell you that I am not looking forward to it one bit. The surgeon, while very nice, made…
This is hard. I hate it, but I’m coming clean. I hate that I am feel seen as some kind of super strong birthmother because I am suppose to be immune to this sort of thing in my head. Guess what..I’m human. I’m not perfect. In fact, I am probably just as messed up as everyone of us. I just hide it well. Periodically, people ask me how my reunion…
Maybe it was because I spent almost two hours on last Tuesday evening talking to a reporter about how my seemingly very progressive agency was using acceptable, but subtly coercive tactics to point me only relinquishment, and it weakened my inner stone wall. Maybe it is because it’s almost Mother’s Day as well and between having lost my own mother many years ago, plus being a mother who lost one…
I love the Holiday Season! OK, if Rye saw that I just typed this out he would be mocking me because going in to Christmas, I am a wreck. But now that it is over….whew.. gald it’s over! But what I do adore, is that it makes a certain son of mine crawl out of the woodwork! Yeah..got a call from the Max! Which was really funny as I had…
A Case of Birthmother Blues Sitting here now.. feeling all nasty. I din’t know why. Feeling on edge.. like something is about to happen..got so much to do, but not really… should be doing more, but what? Rye is after me to find some job that I can do one handed… I want to laugh.. every thing I find that is work from home sounds like a pyramid scheme and…
I am at work tonight. We had over a hundred people on the books and the hit was very early for some odd reason, so we were all keyed up to move fast and make it happen. My night starts out great. My first table is this couple that I use to wait on years ago at the old “Clove Valley Trading Post” and I am thrilled to see them….
Bare with me becasue I think I am still trying to fiqure this out. After I wrote out last nights post, I was still thinking a bit about it all. Especially that conflicted feeling that I have…the thrill that Max and I do have this connection, yet coupled with the sadness that even for three seconds he felt out of place in his life. Now I have had internet “discussions”…
Tristan came home today with Scholastic’s Parent & Child in his backpack. So somewhere as I put off making dinner, I did my best to ignore the sounds of Pokeman as they explode form the TV, and took a gander at this nice piece of fluff. What Make Your Child Tick? Interesting enough, I actually found an article that peeked my interest, “What Makes Your Child Tick?” and within that…
Scarlett drew this for me. I adore how she just has fully embraced that Max is her brother. He just gets included..automatically. It does’t matter that she never met him, I mean it does, but not in her love and inclusion of him.
I can’t go back though time. I can’t really save myself. There was no pregnant girl looking like me, standing around, waiting, on the streets of Newton when we drove though. Not even a ghost. But on coming home, yeah, something did come back with me. Happiness no longer must work around that blackness to reach though me to the other side, now it just shines though..it is like I am made of glass. See me, I am full.
I love the way we are like mirror images of each other. Our bodies are turned in the same way, held at the same angles. Even the holes in our pants, the wrinkles on our coat arms are the same. The way we hold our arms at our sides, both hands closed in fists. We match so well. I like to the one with all of us, where I am elbowing Matt, He refused to “show teeth” when he smiled. Which is really funny as I never noticed that before about him, but I have the same trouble with Tristan. The damn kid won’t smile big just like his uncle.
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?
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.