So Thursday afternoon I sat at my kitchen table for about 2 hours and babbled on about adoption as I do with Jesse Smith, the Ulster Publishing reporter. It was actually quite enjoyable..Jesse being a cool mellow guy that he is..and, well, I am aways pretty happy talking about adoption. Anyhoo, he seemed pretty excited about it all, was going to do some more research, was happy it was a…
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…
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…
Motive for death of US troops…democracy?? NO..Oil money.
Motive for the needless separation of mothers and children..save the children? No..profit from the transfer of parental rights.
Media coverage for both outrage? The war wins…though barely. Who wants to hear that depressing bit anyway? Not when we can read about Hollywood starlets behaving badly..much more amusing.
And the big question..Oh what do you do? Enter the adoption world.
But what was GREAT..is that here is person, with no ties to adoption..and she got it..right off the bat. I didn’t need to explain or defend or nothing. In fact, when she asked how old I was when I had Max…and I said 19, she said “Not so young, but young enough that other people could really influence what you did” BINGO!
Three loss of limbs in two days and then Jack’s statement:
So all of them are comfortable with their loss, not comfortable, really, but that they have accepted their loss.
I am comfortable, I have accepted. I don’t hide it. I am a mother of loss. You can’t really see it unless you know where to look…unless I wear one of my tshirts. I don’t have a stump. But I still don’t like it. Of course, I gather that none of those men would be thrilled that they had their body parts chopped off either. But I don’t know for sure. I didn’t ask.
Now I know she is asking for infertility and still born stories..and I don’t mean to smarf all over their chance to get heard. So nothing personal here ya’all. This isn’t a grief contest, just a chance too for us birthmothers.
The fact is..there are ENOUGH moms who relinquished who are saying…hey, it didn’t work like that. And enough adoptees say the same thing. Human nature is different than the plan and the beliefs. They were built on faulty principles Not your fault, not mine..lets blame the adoption industry. They have known for some time, they have had the information at hand, and still they kept throwing this pipe dream at us all and selling us all down a river.
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.
Even with all that you see here, all that I DID sign, all that I was told, I still felt that I had no choice. I did this because it was the only thing I could do. And I signed all, I agreed to all, I waived all because I was trying to be the best dern birthmother the agency had ever had. I wanted them to be so proud of me. I wanted acceptance and I knew that by being “strong”, by being determined, I would make them happy. I would prove my worth.
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.