Adoption and exclusion

I'd like to say I was not adopted, that I was born to my mom and dad. It really would be wonderful, so much easier and less heartbreaking for me.    Time ticks away, the days pass by, I wake up, go to bed and another year has passed and nothing has changed.  It has been said for many years, oh there is no difference if your adopted,  we feel the same about you as the child [we gave birth to].  I sometimes can keep up the charade and pretend there is no difference.  Until there is a difference and those differences are practically shoved down my throat by those telling me there is no difference!

How can I continue to pretend there is no difference ?   My only sister, who's only daughter excludes my daughter from her wedding activities, they have grown up together.  They have spent every important moment together over the past 27 years, I video taped her birth, .  The exclusion is so overwhelming to me, I cannot breathe.  I am questioning the relationships within my family,  and I finally spoke up and told my sister it is dreadfully wrong and mean what her daughter has done.  Nothing will ever be the same, and unfortunately that is the truth.  I told my mom how I felt, she has no opinion, she doesnt want to take sides.  There are no sides!  She seems sad, but not sad enough to have a voice and speak up!    My niece has made comments over the years, probably without my sisters knowledge but nonetheless, it happened.  "Who is your mom anyhow" when discussing who looks like whom within our family . Does not take a brain surgeon to realize my children cannot look like my parents or their relatives, however my niece and nephew do look like them. DUH!   Its just a fact of life.  No fault of mine, or my children, yet I cant help but think this has been discussed within their family which is why she has said these things to me over the years and excluded my daughter.   Now she is getting married, and I did believe things were OK , the kids are all grown and I really thought my niece was different!!!

I realized I was wrong, my beliefs about how the others in my family feel for me and my family are brutally wrong.  Its a harsh and ugly reality, the most ugly feeling I have felt.  I planned my nieces engagement party last Thanksgiving, spent weeks hand painting signs and making custom napkin rings with their photo, along with a custom engagement photo book.  I was so excited, the first kid to get married in our family.

Turns out it is not exactly my family.  Its their family, and that is exactly how we all feel.  We debated about attending the wedding shower, but we went because as my daughter said, we do whats right.  Walking into the wedding shower I quickly realized most these women did not know my sister even had a sister.  I was not introduced, and went to the hostess and introduced myself.  She said, and I quote, "Oh my God, I didnt know {my sister} had a sister."  She went on to say that she did not see a photo of me anywhere,  I took the time to have many pictures printed for my sister to frame and place around the wedding shower.  The hostess was correct, not a single picture of me, anywhere.

BAM!  Slug in the gut, slap in the face, I am falling off a cliff, down down down down I go, spiraling out of control.  I hold it together long enough to make it through the shower.  However I know the maid of honor, the hostess' daughter.  I picked that girl up the next morning after many high school parties.  When my daughter and I arrived at the shower, rang the doorbell, another birdesmaid we know answered the door.  She pretended not to know us, did not recognize us!  The rude bridesmaids and maid of honor could not bring themselves to speak to us, I know we must seem like some other species, not human. That is how we felt.  My kids know many of these bridesmaids as they all went to the same schools throughout their lives. 

The difference is huge, so big that it has divided our families.  My sister has told me that it does not matter what I wear to the wedding when I discussed wanting to blend with her and mom.  Said I can wear a cocktail dress if I want to, I'm not part of the family so it doesnt matter.   I have realized throughout all of this, I am just a guest.  I cannot tell you how badly this has broken me, my heart, my soul, and to be honest it has blown me away so badly I dont even know how much damage this has done yet!   And I am still trying to sort out how I could have been so wrong, how I could have believed that my sister and her family loved me and considered me their family.

All I know is that if adoption did not exist, I would not be blogging and going to therapy.  They go about their day, as though nothing is wrong, and they really have no desire to apologize or make things right, if they even know there is a problem?????.  My daughter and I did receive a long text from my niece, she sounded like she was writing a letter to one of her clients, trying to win an account.  As I have said many times, your actions speak louder than your words.

The lost bond of adoption

As time goes by and my birthday candles keep increasing, I realize there is one thing I cannot escape.   There is no anger or resentment, only a bit of sadness left as I realize there is nothing I can do to change "what is."  

Its a life sentence I have been given, a lesson to learn, again and again,  and at times I feel I have mastered the whole mess!   But some days, like today,  it seems too large of a cross to bear,  and I feel the strength I've built up, to escape the anger...weakening.  I feel weak today.   Something happens, a look in my moms eyes , a touch, a gesture,  a small sentence spoken that makes my heart skip a beat.  Time stands still,  its like an out of body experience,  everything is moving in slow motion, and I want to  take a picture, and show them "this right here" is what I am missing.  I don't get that same look, I don't get the same touch or gesture, or the deep love in that small sentence.    So many people overlook, don't appreciate, or even recognize that "Belonging" is such a gift.  The bond created when a mother gives birth, gets the privilege of keeping her baby is overwhelmingly different.   Different than that bond  of an adopted child.  There really is a language they speak to one another, when the bond is not broken.  

Nobody can tell me differently, if I could capture the moment, I would.  I could show you, prove to the world I have been cheated.  I deserve to allow myself to grieve, but I also deserve to never feel like this again.  I don't want this feeling another day, another minute or even second of my life.  But I also cannot deny the existence of what I see.  I know that touch, I know that gesture, and the secret language that is spoken between a mother and her children.  I experience that with my own children.  

In time I will learn to accept what I cannot change. 

Grown babies are not the same...

My birth mom had been texting me, nothing really earth shattering, just common things like she's working a lot, its hot outside, can't wait for the weather to change.  I was telling about my dad dying.  We were not talking about my (brother) but she did bring him up a bit, and the way she talked about him you'd think he was fine.  In the past she spoke about my (brothers) girlfriend, as though the situation was,  in my mind, normal.

Being the searcher that I am, and the information at everyone's fingertips via internet, I looked for myself.  If people do not make their social media "Private" it is open for the world to see. What I saw of my (brother) I did not like,  I don't think I am being cruel, just brutally honest.     I have to be honest, with myself about "What Is."  I went my entire life before getting married in fantasy land, even years after getting married.  Pretending that what was happening was not happening.  It still goes on to a point now, within my family.  But I cannot pretend that a person is wonderful when in reality they are not.  I searched and found that my (brothers) girlfriend is my youngest sons age.

Anyhow, back on topic.  My birth mom and I do not agree.  She feels other men are pigs  for dating super young women.  However she feels her son dating inappropriately  young women is perfectly fine.  We will never agree.

I started blogging years ago after dealing with my birth moms betrayal and years of her ignoring me, and a lot of wounds dealing with adoption and just life.   I really thought she'd want to know me, get another chance with me by being part of my children's lives, but in reality that was not the case.  She searched for me, paid someone to find me, and once she did, it was like she disappeared so to speak.  I have to be honest and say she did change, the woman I met in 1984 is not the woman in year 2015.   I really don't know her, she changed back around 1993, a lot of years lost.   I'd like things to be different, but they can't be changed, and unfortunately, she has no intention on changing.   She has chosen my (brother) and has decided to dig her heels in the sand and ignore me, my family, my children and I am guessing my own grandchildren when the time comes.

So this accident, of texting another woman named (Cathy) with a "k" was when I realized this recent texting was just so she had something to gossip about.  Anything and everything I had to say she was turning around like a teenager and gossiping about it.   When I texted her back and told her that I realized she accidentally texted me, her response was ridiculous, and its embarrasing reading her text.  She told her best friend (Kathy) that I had told her about my dad dying, and that I had some nerve telling her this when I have a blog about "Her."   Her text messages got ridiculous, after realizing she had made a mistake and whoops, texted me!   Here's our dialogue:

ME:  I'm guessing that was for the other "Cathy"

HER:  What?  Don't know...I got phone back now, Linda was using it.  She's in fight with her mom, she's controlling her life, $$ etc...They fight like cats & dogs...guess its the heat?

HER:  I'm getting on freeway, can't wait to get home sweating like a pig!

ME:: I do have a blog-its not about you, its about me and my experience & life.  If everyone was honest and faced what has been done and what has happened, there wouldn't be a big surprise I write this blog.  Its what has saved me dealing with everything.

ME:  You and I have had a strained relationship and you know why.  I am not the bad guy in all this, not one person is to blame.

ME:  I was around when your mom died and after - it shouldn't be so hard listening to my experience now - Im guessing you talk to non related people about life.

ME:  I do too - I also question why we are talking - its unfortunate that (my brothers) life has changed ours because I have not had a firm solid relationship with anyone - I understand how you feel for me is different.  Its expected.  But I also remember the old you - how you used to be, even the old (brother) which always gives me hope that maybe it can be fixed, be how it used to be.

ME:  IF that is wrong, I am wrong.

ME:  I don't want anything from you but probably what Ive always wanted which never happened, without going into a long explanation.  You know.  The things you never got from YOUR mom.

ME: Im a double loser, I've lost out on 2 moms, that is my cross to carry

ME:  And no I don't really have strong ties to anyone except Steve, and our 3 kids and my sister.  I have accepted that.  I am loyal to my parents and sister-no they are not perfect, nobody is, but I have more history with them growing up than I do you and (brother)

ME:: I would have liked it to be different - but its not and probably cannot be.  I'd love to have you come rushing to me with open arms, saying you were wrong and that you love me.  Yep that is what Id like, not very realistic but that is the truth

ME:  The anger over time is disappointment and realization I will never have a mom.  That is why I blog.  Its about me.  not you per-se - just as I am not that baby you lost .  I am not mad, just greatly disappointed.  I had a lot of dreams and hope.

ME:  Anyhow you don't have to keep talking to me, I get it.

HER:  I don't have a problem with you voicing your opinions, feelings & thoughts.  Your entitled.  Its really hot today & Im working so I can't really say much right now.  My client yesterday was having similar issues with her mom & daughter.  They all write about their feelings, thats how this was brought up.  Its more common than u think.  will TTYL

Anyhow, the weather seemed to be more important than anything.  Forget about how I feel.  We had a little conversation, and we discussed her brother that went missing in action, so I accidentally found pics of her other brother and their son who is now in college.  She had not seen pics of him in probably 14 years, so I texted her pics of him now.  She never did respond again,  the last text was August 29, 2015.

So the bottom line is,  I  endured one death after another.  Her dads death, then her moms death, then her brothers death, birth dads mom.    I went to all of their funerals.  Not a single one had a picture of me in the pictures that were posted at the funeral, just my brother!   My uncle  was homeless and living in a shelter, a prior heroine addict when he died.  I bought the food for the funeral, which is not the important thing, but the fact that I was involved was the important fact.

Now she is bitching that I have told her about the misery surrounding my dad dying, and she has the audacity to mimic me, yet talk nice to me in text?  Seriously?  Her mom had said to me when alive,  in a nasty voice and with a bitter look on her face, that "She did not owe me nothin" - this somehow escaped from her mouth, although it shouldn't have!  This was when I stopped to say hello to her on my way home from somewhere, before she died.  I never asked anyone in my birth family for money, for material items....just love and attention.   I sat with my birth mom after her mom had died, in the hospital, for probably 8 hours.  It was not fun, they had to leave the ventilator in her mouth, so it was a very heartbreaking experience for me, and I had never seen someone die before.

I wish I could understand where she is coming from.  I have made it very clear how I feel.  My brother is bipolar, has permanent brain damage from drug use, has severe OCD, panic disorder, and lives his life on the edge and is an addict.  He dates a girl old enough to be his daughter, who incidentally looks like a pole dancer, and has naked pics of herself on the internet for the world to see.  I am dreadfully embarrassed to admit this man is related to me.  As my oldest  son has said, my (brother) is a pervert, none of my kids can believe he dates little girls, I'm included in this!   My birth mom does not even know my kids, I don't think she even knows me.  She has lied about me, written letter to a (now x friend ) of mine, words she wrote I don't know that I can ever undo.  She has never apologized, said she is sorry, that she is wrong, and probably worse of all she has never said I love you, that I can recall.

I feel I deserve more than this, and I am lovable, and I am trustworthy.  Having said this, I cannot change her and my (brothers) life choices, and again, this is even a good example of how the "Adoptee" looks like the crazy one.  In their little cuckoo circle and altered reality they live in, I am painted as the crazy daughter who lies, that tells stories, and I would bet my own life that this woman I call my birth mom has lied to her friend "Kathy" about what has happened, and anyone and everyone who will listen to her.  I can guarantee I am painted as the crazy daughter, as she wrote my X Friend,  made me appear to be the mentally ill person and gave my (brother) my life.  He is the one that is supposedly living a normal life, with a wife and kids!!!!!  Hahahaha!  Even though he's never been married and has no children.

THIS IS HOW ADOPTION HAS ROYALLY MESSED WITH MY LIFE.  Non-adoptee's don't deal with this sort of thing, and probably the most shocking thing is SHE KEPT him and not me, and even after all these years, even after I have honestly lived a very genuinely good life, she paints me as the CRAZY GIRL!  The dirty, disheveled, tossed away girl, left on the side of the road, or in the shopping cart, that nobody wanted.

There it is, another angle of adoption that not everyone out there understands.  No resolution.

I don't need this mother

Lesson learned.  Cannot trust those that are not blood related, except my own husband.

My help, my opinion, not needed nor are they interested in knowing it.

I am not trustworthy, they feel.  I cannot be responsible for anything important, except for parent sitting when said relative decides to take our mother and her sister  to a play.   I then, can be responsible for 10 hours, and oh, don't forget that dinner I was reminded to plan in advance so when they arrive back from the play, they can eat!  Because this relative of mine stated she has to work the next day, so she does not want to be at our parents house all night long!  Oh, excuse me.  Oh, and don't forget to get the ingredients for whatever your cooking, although our aunt had mentioned she loves pizza, and maybe a salad, because you won't be able to leave dad alone while we are gone!   I guess I'm also an idiot, and have not raised 3 children, and somehow have forgotten how to cook...even though I am the one who usually does most of the cooking and baking at all our holidays over the years.    Maybe they should just kick me in the rump and slap me in the face too.   Gets better, I was also told to watch dad while my sister and mom took my aunt to the airport.

So this is how its going to be from this point forward.  I will not go back to moms house unless I am asked, very nicely.  I will never be anyone's maid, cook, or be used again.

The past year I have scrubbed pee off carpets, scrubbed floors, changed beds, cleaned house, laundry, windowsills all in the name of helping mom whiled dad  is dying.  Now, I see that my help, even though it was accepted, was not wanted.  Wow, do I feel like a fool.  I guess when I volunteered to put eye drops in my dads eyes and my mom would not trust me to do this, I should have gotten a clue!

My relatives forgot to let me know that a supposed important person in my life, my own mother, was going back to the cardiologist yesterday.   Mind you I took her to countless doctor appointments in prior months, kept my lovely sister in the loop every step of the way.   And my own mother is going in for an ultrasound on Monday for her carotid arteries, something that slipped their minds.  As usual, I get a call many hours later from my mother, she left a message, once she realized that I somehow was forgotten in her plans.  Oh, gee, I was not needed to baby sit my dad, or schlep her to the doctors, so I guess that is why I was forgotten.   If I had not asked my sister about something, I never would have known.   I am their last thought, and to be honest, I am sick of this.  I cannot and will not do this again to myself.

This same thing happened when my mom went in for the actual procedure a few months ago, I had spent days at her house, each week, taking her to tests, appointments, etc, and when it came time, my sister arrived,  and told me I was baby sitting my dad and she was taking mom.  The next day after moms procedure, they both got up, got dressed, said nothing to me and off they went, for 3 hours and left me with my dad.

What other conclusion can I come to?  Im important enough when I am taking care of dad all day and night and cook them dinner, so they can go see a play, but when my services are not needed, I am kicked to the curb, my feelings not important,  keeping me informed, not important to them.  I am the last person they think of.  Im just free maid service.  

Sad, heck yeah.  But as my dear husband said yesterday after work, "I don't mean to make you feel bad or mad, but you don't need a mother" - that really hit me between the eyes.  He is right, I do not need this mother, because she is not my mother.  She is a woman, that took someone else's baby, and does not have the same feelings for this baby as she does her own.  Nothing can be done about it, its not my fault, its just is.

Adoption continues to take

I hope by blogging I can explain what I'm feeling.  I am not even sure how to get these thoughts on paper or what words I will use to communicate my feelings.

Why is it that as an adoptee so many in the triad feel they can take things from me, or try to take from me, crack stupid jokes about adoption, and always belittle how I feel.  But there is this specific dynamic within  birth families that still remains a mystery to me.  I don't know where it comes from, but it does exist.  To date, my birth mom has deceived me, betrayed me, lied to me countless times, has chosen to have no relationship with my children, the list goes on, and NOT ONCE has she ever apologized, said she is sorry, or wrong.

My birth mom has always kept me at a distance.   I'm usually the one to track her down, for the most part. 

Why does she continue to act like she can say and do whatever she wants without any consequences to how I feel?  Apparently she feels there are no boundaries for her.  Same goes for my brother, her son.  He has always felt that he has the right to try and convince my children that my husband and I are bad parents, they have both talked bad about us.  They both paint this picture to the rest of the world, they are the best people, the best grandma and uncle to my children, and WE are the problem.   The frightening part is that she and my birth brother are believable, charming, convincing AND they believe their lies!   I have not trusted either of them for many years.

My brother over the years has continued to bully me, my kids and my husband.  Yet now, today, he claims my husbands brother as HIS family.  This is why I get upset when I see this is going on.  I am so sick of them bullying me, and the fact they feel they have the right to take anything they want from me, even things that are clearly not theirs.  My brother states on the internet to the old time skaters and surfers that knew my brother in law, that he was his uncle.  I blogged about this the other day.  How is it that you cannot stand ME, can't even talk to me, and have threatened to kill my entire family (which you later lied about doing & called my children liars) YET you are now, claiming MY HUSBANDS family as your own?  Pretending to be the nephew of my husbands brother?    You hate me, yet you manipulate my kids over the years, almost like a pedophile, luring children into their house.  My brother has always liked young girls, when my daughter was in middle school he started talking to girls on line, that were in her 7th grade class.  At the time he was about 28 years old, pretending to be MY KIDS COUSIN.  Sound familiar?  He had been talking to this little girl who ended up committing suicide.  He knew about it before it hit the newspaper, before we even knew about it.  HERES THE SICK PART...my birth mom and brother both lie about it now, make it seem like I have made this up, and I am the crazy one.  I have nothing better to do but sit around and make up stuff!   It did happen, my adult kids can attest to this.  My oldest has received several threats from my brother left on his cell phone, death threats.   According to my birth mom & brother, we are all the crazy ones, living lies, and none of this ever happened!

Its hard to explain in words, I don't even know why this has happened over the years.  The lies, the manipulation, the deceit.  WHY?  What do they want?  Sometimes it feels like they want to annihilate me, step in and take over my life.  Everything they have done, and trust me its not been a cake walk, they have lied about, stated that "Cathy is mentally ill"  --  I guess all 5 of us are crazy!  My daughter and youngest son will never even acknowledge them.  My oldest son has more memories of them, but he was really little and his judgment is not that great.  Now, he has realized that maybe Kelly my brother is not the greatest guy that walked earth.  Honestly, Kelly my brother is not a person you can even have small talk with, he's dangerous, cruel, manipulating, mentally ill, has brain damage from drugs, and hates all of us.  Not a good combination, its somewhat lethal.

So you ask, why would I talk to these people?  I always have hope, hope that they will change, make different life choices.   Well, I have not talked to my brother in many years.  I've had nothing to do with him.  I recently spoke via text with my birth mom, and of course she continues to lie about my brother.  She always paints a picture of this man (age 40 now) who is living this sedentary, normal life.  So I see all of his Instagram pictures, which just about made me sick.  I see his girlfriends pages and her pictures, which made me even more sick inside.  My birth mom slips and says the girlfriend is mentally ill as well.  Gee, doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out WHY a girl age 21 would be dating a man older than her parents.  My brother lives a wild and crazy life.  He's drinking, acting and dressing like he's a young kid, and I am sure this is taking its toll on him.  He looks awful, and these pictures prove that my birth mom is living in la-la land, lying to me about what he's doing and how he is doing.  If his Type 1 diabetes is out of control, its his choices that are making that happen.  This young girl that looks like a hooker/stripper, and their vulgar pictures and talk would make anyone feel sick.  I am ashamed to even admit this man is my brother, and why I have decided that I can no longer call him that.  This same behavior has been going on since he was much younger and to be honest, I'm exhausted.  I don't deserve this, and I have chosen not to be part of their lives and I supposed I have to give up hope they will ever get it together and live somewhat decent lives.

I realize my birth mom has betrayed me in the past, and it seems she is not capable of being truthful.  Which brings me full circle.  I feel she is always manipulating me, and lying and there is no logical reason why?   What does she want from me?  Why does she contact me when I really do believe she does not like me?

Adoptee's are the pit everyone dumps into.  Adoptee's micromanage the families, taking abuse at times,  forget an apology, or any sort of feelings that would show they have remorse.  Its because we don't have the spot in any family, really.  We were taken from our birth family, never to really connect and bond with any of them, and the adoptive family we were stuck in are not always a match, loss of fertility issues, a father not wanting a child that is not his blood.  We have to make our own family, however we choose to do this.

When someone comes into my family, like my brother and tries to take what I have made, for myself, and have worked so hard to attain, I pretty much go into battle mode.  Who does he think he is?  How and why does he feel he has the right to pretend to be my husbands nephew?  Pretend to be the cousin of MY children.   How does he have the gumption to say he is anything to me except being born of the same two people?   He has not done any work to say he is my chidrens uncle, he does not even deserve the label of acquaintance.  To me he is dirt, he has no class, he is a scum sucking bottom dweller.  And my birth mom is similar, lying for him, even though he is age 40, pretending he is the better child of the two, when in reality she is probably thinking wow, I gave away the better of the two children I had!

I am so angry they both still feel they have "Rights" to me and my family.  I cannot stand the fact that my brother has posted pictures of MY family on line, all over the place, claiming to be MY husbands brother, who passed away years ago.  Preying upon people, lying, manipulating.  Its like he still THINKS he has the right to dump on me!

Don't tell me I'm too emotional

I have to pull up my skirt, I have to stop this craziness.   My mom needs me to help her right now, and I have to step up and move into her house and be there for her, until my dad dies.

Can I do this?  Can I ?  Can I help her without feeling like I want to go running through the streets pulling my hair out?

I texted my sister, she is on a trip with her daughter.  As though this trip is so important, she tells me she cannot talk to me about (mom) she is "Trying to have fun."   Oh, wow, sorry.

Remind you, I have rheumatoid arthritis, I have zero pain relief and I somehow find the strength to spend countless days at moms.   She, on the other hand feels that when she is on a trip, a trip that has very little meaning , that she is not to be bothered by things like our mom not making sense, and firing my dads caretaker. (dad is at home in hospice)

This is where my feelings of being that dirty, unwanted kid come in.  My feelings, my opinion and concern for our parents is not of worth to her.   She gets to decide what happens to [her] parents.  Shut up Cathy, we don't want to hear your ideas, your worries, your concerns.  That is what she is saying when she tells me she cannot talk about this [now] because she is trying to have fun!  When she shuts me up and says that what I have experienced is not real, it did not happen!  This is why I have resorted to video taping things that happen at our parents house.

Sorry, but this is pure insanity in my opinion.  Your trying to have fun?  Give me a #&$(% break.

Yeah, I know this could happen in any family.  But this is not any family.

The question still remains, do I continue to push my way into this?  Do I help my mom & dad?  Or should I back off and allow my sister, their birth child to make all the decisions?  It seems I am looked at as being too emotional.  Even though my mom cannot remember what was discussed just 5 minutes ago, I guess I am over reacting. She is living alone, with my dad who is dying.  She has fired now her 2nd caretaker for my dad, who is blind, cannot do anything for himself, and mom is a train wreck.  She can barely take care of herself, and her health is not good.  She is not making wise choices, and telling me she does not have the money for a caretaker.  She does have the money!  Got so mean she basically hung up on me, and let me tell you her sister called me worried as well.  Saying that she was not making sense.

I think my sister wants to be in the drivers seat.  She wants to make the decisions, my opinion and feelings do not matter.   On the outside, everyone thinks that adoption is no big deal.  I am so lucky to have been adopted by this wonderful family.  Nobody really wanted you, so your lucky.  It amazes me at age 50, that I am still having this conversation.  That I feel like I'm still second guessing my position.  Are these really my parents?  Should I be able to step in and make decisions on my own regarding their well being?  The answer my friends, is NO.  My opinion, my feelings mean nothing.  I really am that unwanted, unloved kid found in the shopping cart, or found on the side of the road, left because I am too stupid, or not cute enough, or not clever enough to have any sense, not enough worth to make a reliable decision.

If adoption did not make a difference, if being the adopted daughter was not an issue,  why is this happening?  My sister would not be talking to me this way, and arguing about what our mother is doing.  Refusing to admit that our mother is not mentally well and needing a dementia screening.

I have not decided how to handle this, but maybe I will have to just push these awful feelings aside and do the right thing, and live with my parents and take care of them.  I really need to do this, to prove to myself that I can, that I CAN love unconditionally.    I should be able to do this, I could do it for a stranger, I can do it for my parents.  Regardless if they love me and adore me or not.

I will always long for my mom

As a little girl I always tried to force mom to be close to me, I'd sit in her lap, I remember laying on the couch with her.  Remember the game kids play, you put the bottom of your feet on the other persons feet, and pretend your riding a bike?  I always laid with her, even though she was in a bad state at the time.  Looking back I didn't get what I wanted.   I don't think I thought that way at the time, I did not realize that I wasn't getting what I wanted or that it was not possible.  But as years went by and I grew up, I just know I did not trust women, or want to be close to women like the closeness shared by a mother and child.

I took care of my mom, behind closed doors.  On the other side of the door she was a nurse, taking care of others.  But when I had her, I was the nurse.  That is how it felt to me.  It was my job to make sure she didn't somehow die, and I was there to comfort her when she was crying. I'm not really blaming her for this, she was unhappy and did not have the tools to make it better for herself.  She still doesn't have the tools.   To be honest, she did cook, and clean.  She did not take care of herself, though.  She did not care what she really looked like, as far as her hair and clothing.  She has never worn a stitch of make up.  She used to care, I have the pictures to prove it, before she was married and shortly after.  Cute clothes and make up were part of her daily routine.

I'm not sure what this does to a kid, having a mother that does not show affection.  My old friends tell me I was quiet as a kid, never said much, but I was kind and always shared my lunch if someone did not have one.  I did not get mad and mean until my teenage years.   Mom did make my lunch, she was so worried about what others would think, at age 83 she is still worried about what others think!   But I know how I feel now, about the years of my life spent longing for what I've never received...it has tried to take over my life and heart.  

Its strange, because I have a relationship with my mom, now.  But its not what it should be, we can never fix what is broken.  I realize this now, but in all honesty it does not make it any easier.  I still long to have what I cannot have.  I know I'm repeating myself.  But I want to give myself permission to grieve what I cannot have in this lifetime.  And watching my sister so attached to mom makes it somehow harder.  I see that she really cares for mom differently than I do.  She received what I did not receive from this woman we call our mom.  With hesitation I say I love you.  Knowing that I do not have the same love for her as I do my husband or children.  I do not love her as I should.  I feel guilt about this, and I feel shame.  I cannot make myself love her as I should.  I have tried again and again.  I want to, so badly.   This years Mother's Day the pain in my heart was not as bad, so I think I may have achieved some relief, forgiven myself a little for not feeling how I should for mom.

But I know I will keep trying and trying, in hopes that something will ignite inside of me, and I will all of a sudden feel that click in my head and feel differently.  It does not come, that click.  I feel disappointed, I feel sad, and I lick my wounds and time passes by.

But I thought telling mom about my blog, and how I felt about a lot of what she has done over the past 50 years would make that click come.  It did not.  Instead it made her look more tired and old.  In turn I felt guilty when I saw her on Mothers Day, after spending one week away from her house.  I'm usually at her house every week, helping her with dad.  She is slowing down, and seems worn out.   Its sad that she has refused to attend counseling with me, I suggested it many times.   I'm realizing she will never go, because that would mean allowing someone to know the truth of her life, the abuse and neglect, the awful life she has lived with a man she does not like.   She talks to people she does not know and tells them lies about how her life is, paints a picture of the perfect family, perfect everything.  It almost makes me sick, her deception.   The truth cannot be exposed, and keeping that truth hidden is more important to mom than having a relationship with me, or my children, in this lifetime.

Another Mothers Day

I figured a way to get through it, even though I have my children and my amazing husband.  Not that my boys are great at sentiment, but I got a great dinner cooked for me.  I feel blogging helped me get to the place I'm at now .

We celebrated with my mom on Saturday.  My sister and I took her to lunch.  It was nice, it was hard but I managed to make it through.   

I had meant to pick out a card at Target while I was there earlier in the week, I even procrastinated printing a picture out for the frame I bought.   My husband dropped me off at my sisters house, and on the way I picked up a card at Hallmark.  WOW, swoosh, kicked in the gut as I read the Mothers Day cards from a daughter.  Panic time, I started sweating, looking around to see if anyone was watching me furiously picking up cards, reading the first sentence, and putting it back.   My husband was waiting in the car, as I read faster and faster.  Mad at myself for somehow conveniently forgetting to pick one out at Target.   I had to convince myself that it was OK to pick out a card that was not completely true.  That it didn't matter, not really.  So I picked a card, that talked about how important a mothers love is.  I should have made my own card, picked a picture from years ago and cut, pasted and decorated it, allowing me to just say, "Happy Mothers Day" instead.  

I signed the card, "Love Cathy" and felt unsure.  Love.  Love is a big word.  Again talked myself into feeling OK inside, thinking it doesn't matter what I really feel.  Its just a card.  

The day went by, no major issues.  We did some shopping.  My sister bought some pants.  I bought some shoes.  We had our waiter take a picture of the three of us.  I cannot deny the fact that I was glad the day was over, when it was over.   The picture is good, in my opinion.  I tried to scoot down to look smaller.  My sister is a clone of my mom.  Even their body type, their skin, hair, etc.  Not everything is the same.  I did not feel super exposed, like I was the 3rd wheel this time.  I think its about how I feel inside, not because of what they have said or done.  Simple things maybe others would not even notice to begin with.  I told mom about my blog, and about some of the things I feel inside which are a result of years of trials.  I think telling her has taken its toll on her, and although I realize she does know these things already, they have not been taken out of the dust pan and looked at.  So in a way, its like she doesn't know what "IS."  Its important that I tell her how I feel, and to talk about the reasons why our relationship has been strained for my entire life.  Again, she does know these truths, but she has hidden them from herself, and pretended all is OK for so long, its difficult to grasp whats real when you've lied for so long.  

I will always long for my mom.  A woman that brushes my hair, adores me and makes me feel as though I am the most important thing in her life.  How I have always wanted her to choose me, instead of others.  Quite an irony, that I was chosen, and still at age 50 yearn to be chosen.  I wish there was a way to go back in time,  for her to take back all of the things that have happened, and to change the current status of our relationship.   The behaviors I've dealt with continue today, so its an on going struggle.  

Seriously can't believe this!

My husband drove me to my parents house late tonight.  Since my accident a few weeks ago I'm still scared to drive the crazy freeway.

My mom is going in for an angiogram, she may need a stent or if that is not possible, open heart surgery.  She is not planning on that, so I don't know what is going to happen.

My sister cannot get here until tomorrow night, so I came early so she is not alone the day before the procedure.

My last visit was hell, no nice way to put it.  I stayed up 3 nights in a row to get the real picture of what is going on here when my sister and I are not around.  My sister doesn't spend the night,  she comes for a visit during the day.  Although she did spend the night for the first time in a long time, last week.

So we decide to go to bed , mom comes into the room and tells me she cleaned off the other bed, and not to sleep in the bed I always sleep in when I come here.  Mind you I'm here all the time, and I stay days at a time.  I'm at a loss for words.  She tells me no, that is my sisters bed, you sleep in this one.

Now this sounds trivial to a lot of people out there, Im sure!  So...I stay here days on end on a regular basis, my sister stays one time  and I don't get to sleep in the same bed I always sleep in?  And this is the bed with the mattress topper!

OK, whatever.  I text my husband, and tell him what mom said.  He always knows how to get me out of this funk.  He responds by saying, "Thats because your just a number."   I laughed to myself.  And responded to him, "Yep, your right."  His response sounds mean, but its not.  Its dreadfully true.  My adoption papers all state baby girl #, no name, and so that is our inside joke.  I am not a real daughter, just a number, a purchase of theirs.  Basically, I do not count.  That is how he jolts me out of this la-la land of wanting a good mom, and to not feel sad, etc.

So I sit here, on top of my bed at my parents house typing this blog.  In the dark, as I plan on sleeping on top of this bed, not to dirty my sisters sheets!  Wow, what a punch in the gut.  Who are they kidding, and how much can a person take.   I am very glad I brought 2 bottles of wine to soften the blows from mom this week, maybe I will sleep and not lay awake wondering why I'm here, away from my family, trying to help a woman that really doesn't care or think very highly of me or even want me here.

Adoption will never work for me.  And I know that I will have to make peace with this mess and somehow be a better person and not get all choked up  and feel like I've shrunk back to age 10!!!    I have to be the better person, take care of people that don't care for me.  Its tough, but has to be done, with character, and kindness.  Its a big test, and I have to pass this one.  Maybe that is why I have been put here, in this situation, with these people?

auto pilot

Thats how my life is.  Around my parents and sister & her family.  Auto pilot.   Whats been taught and just about beat into me as a kid, just automatically happens.  Cathy, the good girl.  That is who I'm supposed to be.  Its awful to think that Cathy, the adoptee, could or would be bad.  Choose to do something wrong.   Its much more "Wrong, or shocking"  when an adoptee does something...bad.  In their eyes.

Its not just with regards to the family, its much more widespread.  Your so afraid of being bad just from being born, that you live your whole life second guessing each and every move you make.

Thinking that you will be judged, as the bastard kid that nobody wanted.   You think to yourself, a lot of stuff that I'm guessing other kids never think.

So theres this story I want to share.  One that is just unfolding now.  Today.  This week.

My parents health is failing.   Long story short, it was told to my moms sister,  to contact my sister, not me, to get the updates regarding moms health.  I guess I am not a reliable source.  I am not trust worthy like my counterpart.  The child they gave birth to.

When does the stupidity end?  When will these people get their heads out of foreign places and smell the fresh air and become human?

Because I was not born from this woman's body does not make me a gremlin.  A monster.

Because I was abused by my own mothers husband, yes my dad, I am considered to be unreliable.  Because I am not blood.   That automatically makes me a trespasser, someone you cannot trust.

My moms sister told me what my own mother said to her this week.  Don't contact Cathy, contact ......and named my sister.

What does this mean?

I am so over fighting to find my place.  To prove that I am worthy, that I am good.

In two months I will be 50.  I think its safe to say this will never end.  The stupidity will continue, and I will never, ever, get what I want.  Its just not in the cards for me.

Having your mom is important

I cannot express enough in words how important it is for (a girl) to have her mom.  I dont doubt its important for a boy as well, I just happen to be a girl!

In analyzing my relationship with my own daughter I realize all that I have missed with my own mom.  I mean I already knew there were major differences, its just that life happens, and we live it, and then one day we say, hey, wait a minute!  Hold on!  Im not even going to enter my birth mom into this mix.  The birth woman has never said "I love you" or tried to be part of my life, or acted like any mother I've known.

I could sit here and type all of the things I did not get.  And all of the good things I did get.

But its not about the stuff.  Its about the feelings associated with the good stuff, those special moments, the wonderful memories you remember your entire life.  And, the feelings associated with the yuck, ugly stuff.

One of the major differences between my sister and I.  She adores my mom, I see it all the time.  She has actually made comments about how lucky we are to have such a great mom.  I sit in silence, no real response for her.  Sure she's a pretty darn good person.  But apparently we've had different mothers all these years!  

Notice I said person, not mom.  She is a good person.  She just isnt the greatest  mom to me.  I'd have to say in all honesty, being brutally honest, that she has been a pretty good mom to my sister.  Wow, that was hard to admit.

What does this mean?  Does she not like me as much as my sister?  Or did she not bond with me the same as my sister?   I dont know the real answer, only how I feel and what I have observed most of my life.  I dont think she is aware of this so I doubt I will ever get an answer.

Carrying a baby for all those months, childbirth and bonding.  All of these things make a difference.  So you have your baby, the baby looks like your family....another difference.  Similar personalities, another difference.  Oh, and I always hear from people,  a story about  their own family, how this sister or brother was so different and didnt look the same or act the same as them or anyone in their family.  Uh, yeah, but nope, that brother or sister had his/her mom, right?  So...the point is...it is not the same.  

I feel this difference all the time.  Its like the family dance I'm not part of, that I've blogged about before. They are all speaking a language I dont understand.   I dont have the same feelings for my mom that I have for my own daughter and the urgency and bond with mom as I do with my own children.  I realize I am the daughter in this relationship with my mom, but I should feel similarly.  Right?  I should have the same enthusiasm and desire my sister has with mom and vice versa.  I know I should but I cant make it happen and neither can mom.

It is not my fault I feel this way.  I dont even know if its moms fault either.   In 1965 there wasnt the proper counseling to cope with loss of fertility or how to cope with a macho husband who had the issue of not being able to produce baby #2.  I do understand this intellectually, I just dont understand it emotionally.    

its important to examine the past

My birth mom found me when I was 19, in November of 1984.   She contacted my mom and talked to her first.  I was not living at home at the time.

My parents anniversary is in November as well.  

This same year, in November of 1984 was also the last time my dad physically hit me.

It wasn't until just recently I realized why he had this huge blowout, meltdown, and came charging down the hall and punched me in the face, twice.

I had no idea why he did this, he and mom had been shopping for antiques that day.  Came home and I showed up and next thing I know, dad is running down the hall and  I'm almost knocked out.

He must have gone {more] crazy that she had found me and there was an upcoming reunion?

We met the next month, in December and my dad was trying to fix up the house, he actually put up the shutters on the outside of the house he had previously taken down in one of his paranoid rages.  I guess at the time, being 19, I did not give it much thought.  But for him to do this, meant he wanted to make a good impression, and the house looked so bad from him ripping out all of the plants in our front yard, putting up security bars on every window and taking down the cute shutters around the windows.

HUGE LIGHT WENT OFF IN MY HEAD when I realized the timing of my dads blowup.  Here I was, just a kid and I was expected to endure this man cold cocking me in the face twice while sitting down, and expected to know why! Nothing had happened, that I could think of, we hadn't even spoke that day!    If he really was upset about my birth mom finding me, why didn't he just sit down and say he was upset, or worried or something?  And for heavens sake, why was he upset anyhow?  This is the same man that would tell me to stay away from his daughter (my sister) saying that I was not his daughter, while pushing me aside.  He didn't give a darn how I felt, obviously not even after birth mom found me.  Just about knocking me out, at the time and for all these years I thought he did this because of his hatred towards me.

I got up from my chair, pushed him as hard as I could, I was stunned, and he was pretty heavy at the time and I was a mere size 2 if that.   I went storming for the telephone.  I screamed, that I was calling the police and having him arrested.  Mom started crying, saying it was her anniversary, and she didn't want dad to go to jail.  I screamed out loud,  that he would never hit me again, this was the last time.  And I meant it.  Its funny in those days we had the home phone on a super long cord so you could walk around the house with it and talk.   I remember pacing around with the phone in my hand,  ready to dial the police.

Amazing I ever spoke to him again, writing this blog it amazes me that I continued to act out the motions of being the daughter and sister in this family.   Mom even lied about it happening after the fact, made it out to be something different than it really was.  All I knew was that I got punched, while sitting down at the kitchen table, looking at antiques mom had just bought.   There was no way of changing this story into something different!

Whats sick is, mom probably knows why it happened to begin with.  She lived with him, and I guarantee he was spouting off at the mouth about my birth mom coming to meet us.  No way was he quiet about it, just not his style.

During our reunion time I had driven down to the Orange County area to see the birth families on my own, after the initial meeting with my birth mom & full brother at my parents house.  My dad had screamed at me to never talk to him again, that basically I could change my name and take theirs and never have anything to do with him again.  He was fine with this.  As though it was all my fault they chose adoption.

It amazes me, that it has taken all these years to figure this out.  This November it will be 31 years since this happened!  I'd like to say that none of this matters, but that would be sweeping it under the carpet and allowing it to build and build until one day it would come busting out of the seams.  Really understanding and believing that I was and still am a good girl, a nice girl, is important to me.  For years I thought I was seriously defective, a bad girl, and that it was my fault that neither of my parents loved or cared about me.

I cannot tell you what a revelation it was figuring this out.  I bet there are many other incidents in my life, like this I have yet to figure out.

Daughter annoyed by birth moms "Thank You" card

My daughter came home from college to visit this past week, and I showed her the "Thank You" card I received from my birth mom for sending her a Christmas card.  I asked her what she thought.

I handed her the card, and she quickly gave it back to me saying she could not read it, she had seen enough and it was ridiculous that she would send me a "Thank You" card in turn for sending her a Christmas card.   She did not want to know what else she wrote, she somewhat shushed me up.

She is right, its strange that she sent me this card, and I wish I understood her purpose.  She's not written me in years,  has never sent the kids birthday cards, or Christmas cards to us, so why this card?

Why not an apology letter instead?  Apologizing for betraying me?  Clearly she has no plan on sending me that type of card or she would have done it by now.    How about a simple card, saying just "Sorry" - asking to move forward and forgive her.   30+ years into reunion, you'd think this would be easy for her to do, apologize and realize what she's done. I met her when I was 19, and I'm turning 50 on June 8th this year.

Its almost ironic that she wants to believe that I am the crazy one, point the finger at me for what she has done over the years.  Make me into the one that has caused all the problems.  Wish she'd get real, wake up, and take responsibility for her actions.  I have apologized for being mad, in turn, for her craziness.  There is not much more I can do...to make her realize what she has done.  Sometimes I imagine just shaking her, slapping her face and telling her to wake up.  I have even suggested many times to go to counseling.  But honestly, when a person refuses to face themselves, for whatever the reason and can easily betray their own daughter, telling others she is mentally ill and a liar, then I honestly doubt I can shake her back into reality.  This is work she has to do on her own.

Maybe the card is the first step?  Or maybe she just wants something from me?

"Get over it"

Who do others say this so often?  "Get over it."  Is this how we, as a society have been taught to process our loss, grief and emotions?

Not allowing us to ever process it, by being told, just get over it and in my own opinion, just shut up I dont want to hear you...is what they mean.

And how do we "Get over it" I'd like to know when these brilliant people demand we do this?  Any suggestions?  Find God, pray, join a club, move on....the options are endless.

This is why our children are the same as us, and the cycle continues, never broken are the chains, our loss, grief and whatever else you want to add to the list.

I think its somewhat sad, that society expect babies & children to be born of another woman, to  be taken away, raised with other people and then expects them to have zero issues, questions, or loss and grief.  Thats like saying we dont, as a society know that cigarettes are bad for our health, cause possible fetal damage when pregnant.  We know it, its talked about, and agreed upon.  Why is it then, that adoption is swept, right under the carpet, with so many arguments?  WHY?

So I was born to this woman, and then taken away, yet nobody is supposed to have a problem down the line?  Really?  Why is it that some people in this year in time when all you gotta do is speak into a cell phone to get directions  cant accept that adoption automatically brings loss and grief.  When I speak about it with my own family, you'd think that I had just grown an alien head.   Is it that far fetched to think that adoption brings such loss for everyone involved?

Loss of fertility for the adoptive parents, who sometimes would like to pretend the word fertility doesnt even exist or that they couldnt have their own baby is really no big deal.  Yeah right!  Or that someone like me,  taken away at birth, that I would not have any recollection of this as I became a toddler.  Or that my birth mom was supposed to leave the maternity home for unwed mothers with a clean slate, and pretend like nothing happened, after being told that in a few months it will be like nothing ever happened.  REALLY?  Even now, in year 2014, people look at me like I'm the crazy one when I mention the primal wound, of being ripped apart from one's birth mom, even if that woman you find out later on is not a good person.  That is not the topic of debate, its the fact that we have been torn away from our mothers, yet we are expected to bounce back and pretend this really isn't a big deal, nor does it affect us in any way!

Stripped of my heritage

Out of the blue my daughter texted me and asked what tribe (we)  my birth family is from.  I have to dig out my birth family information to give her the answer.    Haven't done that yet.

I told her that it doesn't matter anyhow, I cannot prove who I am.  She responded with a "Huh."  I had to remind her that I don't have my real birth certificate, so as far as the system is concerned, I am not that person because of adoption.   Its quite an irony, I am not biologically attached to my adoptive family either.  This in turn gives my children the same issue.  Its like stripping someone of their ancestry.  Once I explained this to my daughter, she was shocked.  She had not thought of that before.   She asked how to get my original birth certificate, and I explained I'd have to go to court and doubt I'd actually get it.  She was so mad!

Nope, most people don't think of this, what is stripped away from a baby when she's given up for adoption.  I texted my daughter this in response to her shock.  "Hence, my blog Who am I anyhow."
My daughter didn't respond to that text.  But I have been thinking about it a lot.  The dreaded question  I think I have the answer for with my 50th year of life quickly approaching.   It's a battle of managing myself,  alone.   You wouldn't believe what goes through my head on a daily basis.

I hate not having my ancestry for my kids, I resent it.   I am part Native American, and it's not that far removed, my birth fathers grandmother.    Because of adoption we can't claim our own heritage or ancestry, and its going to continue for generations, when my kids have kids, etc.   Do the adoption peddlers have any idea what they are doing when they break up families, or do they just not give a darn?  Can they grasp the devastation they are creating for generations to come?  

Longing to be trusted

I'm still going through the motions.  Going to anniversary parties, making custom photo blankets, making special rice pudding for my dad,   I really want to be part of the family, so I'm still compromising a lot.   I want to be accepted, I want them to look at me and really adore me, trust me, and confide in me.    I overlook a lot of "Stuff" that is said and done.  I forgive a lot.   I'm in the middle.

The caretaker that comes to watch my dad while mom is gone was told a week ago that, this one is adopted, we didn't have her, as she's pointing at my picture.  I can guarantee that was not said about my sister.  Mom telling me the story, hugging me and saying we do love you even if we didn't have you....teary eyed.  I feel stiff as a board, unsure of what to say except asking mom if she really told the caretaker this?!  

 It was my idea to make the photo  blanket for their anniversary, I really enjoy art, crafts,  and I excel at the computer.  So I did the work with re-sizing pics, etc.  I wanted to use pictures of everyone on this giant photo blanket, but my sister wanted only my parents pictures.  I felt it was wrong, because they've had such an unhappy marriage, it may be more comforting for mom to sit and look at pics of fun days throughout the years of her entire family .  Anyhow, the point is, she got her way by not compromising.  Only pics of my folks were put on the blanket.   It took me a long time to get the pics the right size, fix the clarity, etc.    I always feel as though my ideas, my judgement is always questioned.  My sister can never just say, OK, you do it and I trust you.  There wasn't even a bit of compromise on my sisters end.  This is how it always is, and how its always been.   This is where I feel adoption has failed me.  My sister, born to my parents is just like the two of them, personality, reasoning, temperament, etc.   I am not exactly like them, however there is an invisible barrier,  most don't see.  Looking at this picture everything seems fine.  On the inside, there is chaos.   They will tell you it does not matter I was adopted, but then why all of this nonsense?  

Sometimes I feel like I am a prisoner of adoption.  I know my place, I know what I'm supposed to say, how I am supposed to react to total nonsense, and I know that my opinion, judgment and feelings are not as important, or treated with the same dignity.  I am expected to go home, lick my wounds and tolerate all of this, told again I'm too sensitive and to basically, get over it.  Tolerate the fact that I will never be treated as a well deserved family member.  I will continue to keep trying to fit in, to please everyone, and honestly,  I doubt it will ever change.  I cannot change how they feel .

Adoptive mom revelation...I think?

I have realized that mom is really damaged from her life.  Now starts the process of making sense of this information.  Sure, it should be easy to learn something new and just say, "OK, I'm better now."  Move on, like so many people post about on Facebook.  You know those annoying pics of people you don't know with little clever sayings.  Sayings that sound like a great idea, but as ridiculous as it would be to suggest that I go outside and lay an egg.

This new information about mom now has to be analyzed, made sense of, and I have to change inside...a lot.   Mom will not change, so I have to be the one to make the changes to stop this lifelong battle we've had.

I'm thinking that it was easier for her to allow her husband (my dad) to abuse me, and not their birth child or even her!    It may not have been easy per-se.  But at the end of the day, having this man abuse someone other than herself or her birth child, made it more bearable.  I know, it sounds harsh and brutal to say this, but lets get real, its probably the truth regardless if she realized at the time she was doing this or it was just a natural reaction?

She didn't do this to make me suffer,  because I'm bad, or dirty, or stupid.   When there are a lot of women with babies, and one of them starts to cry,  the babies mother goes to her child.  If another baby is crying, does she go to the other woman's baby?  Not usually, at least not in our culture.  I guess what she did is a natural, automatic response to life?

I have to admit, I do feel stupid at times.  I feel like I'm the one forcing myself within this family, at times.  Forcing to be accepted, to find my place and push everyone to love me and change their way of thinking.  They clearly don't like my way, its painful and difficult to resolve life long challenges we've had, and I tend to be the family member that wants to shake it up and make it right.  In my mind I sit and wonder how much I annoy all of them, and wonder how they all really feel about "ME."    Its always a question in my mind, and I always feel like my opinion does not matter as much as theirs, regarding...everything.   I have a lot of doubts about where I belong in this "Family."

Now I know that mom is living in some sort of fantasy world, she has created, to make her life bearable.  She has repeated history, has become a silent partner in crime with her husband, my dad.  She allowed her husband, just like her mom allowed her dad, to be the abuser.  She stood by, just like her mom did and allowed the man to have the control and be an abuser.  She also drank, like her mother did.  And stayed with the abuser, like her mom did.  Mom tells stories, sorry to say they are "Lies" about her life.  She makes everything rosy and sweet, and this morning I realize that mom has also been living a fantasy,  making her parents into  the fantasy parents she probably wanted, but did not get.   Mom could also have a blog like mine, if she chose a different life path.  Her loss and grief is so huge, to get through the pain would be too difficult.  If she wasn't currently lying about her life, I'd say she's done the work.  But its clear to me now, that it will never be processed and she will live her remaining days on this earth, in this lifetime,  just like she is.  In pieces, torn inside, and never knowing true love, intimacy, or her own mind.

Processing "Both Moms"  is so hard for me, and such a challenge and often I wonder if I'm right or wrong, but all I really know is how I feel.

Re-negotiating process?

Over the past couple of weeks I have found myself trying to re-negotiate my belonging in any way to my birth mom.

I took the one pic I have of her in my home, down.

I look in the mirror at myself, and look at my eyes.  I don't want my eyes to look like hers.  I try to imagine they look like someone else's.

I look at my skin, and I know I got my skin type from her.   Even my hair, the way it falls, makes me want to re-negotiate.

I wanted so much to know the feeling of looking like someone, and now,  at this stage of reunion, if thats what you want to call it, I dont care who I look like.

I never thought this would be a part of this process...to de-fantasize my life.    I try to push the thoughts of any resemblance I have of her, out of my mind, I try not to think that any part of me is like her.  I see a picture of myself and I shudder at the thought that I appear to be like her.

Have I ever said or done something remotely similar to something she has said or done?  I have been re-thinking everything.   Do I behave like her?  I dont think so, I answer myself.  I have been on a mission to try and listen better to others, and to be a better person in general.  I think this woman is the reason why I feel so motivated to do this.

Such a strange feeling today inside of me.  What is this whole mess we call adoption, how does an adoptee fit into any of this mess?  Why does it matter where I got these darn toes, or ears?   Does anyone else really care where they came from?  Are adoptee's the only one that care about finding out what bits and pieces we got from relatives?  Does anyone in the birth families really think about this stuff, or is this the wonderfully divine present left for the adoptee to sort out....alone?

Seriously, I have been on this journey alone, with the exception of my husband who's been a champ.  But my mom has never really cared about who I look like,  I don't think my sister has really given it much thought.  I know my birth mom was curious enough to clear her name, by finding me.

So today, I am finally realizing and feeling the reality that I would like to re-negotiate the entire deal.  I don't want to be the adopted girl.  I don't want to look, act or be like her...ever!  I just want to be like everyone else.   I don't want to analyze every step of my life, wondering if I am in any way, shape or form, like her.   At this point I don't even want to admit she is my birth mom, and I do think I have the right to make this choice.

The music swells, the mother runs and embraces her daughter...

I just watched Little House on the Prairie episode, Mary starts a fire in the barn studying for a test.  In the end, Mary is sitting in the field by herself, her mother goes to find her, the music swells, Mary turns her head and see's her mother as she runs towards Mary.  They meet, hug, and the mother tells her she's sorry, and come now, lets go home.  They are both obviously happy, love one another and the idea that moms run towards their daughters with open arms like in this TV show sends a chill down my spine. I have a bit of a burning in my nose and eyes, and I cannot deny I felt tears welling in my eyes.

I flock to movies and TV shows like this.  Always have.  Hallmark channel and I are best friends.  I imagine how it would be to be the little girl, and how touching it is to have that bond with your mother.

I just wonder if all those people working in adoption agencies have any idea what they are really doing?   Encouraging women to walk away from their baby, and taking the risk that another woman may not be able to fully love and adore her the same way she would?

Its a crap shoot, really.  How will the dice roll, who will win, who will lose?  How do these people go home at night, and sleep soundly knowing they have not done everything on God's green earth to keep that mother and her baby together?  Do they realize they are robbing an entire family of a sister, a brother, an aunt, uncle, cousin, and even worse, a grandchild?

There is loss for everyone.  History is changed.  Lives are forever altered, never the same again.  Yet you search the internet now and see the ad's for adoption's and it almost makes me feel panicked.  I cannot go there, and I cannot get myself so upset that I want to march down on the local street with a sign saying, "Family Preservation"  --"Dont give your baby away."

I know not everyone has an unhappy adoption experience, but there are plenty of them out there.  Its not like we get to choose as the adoptee.  Having a fairly painful experience myself, I often wonder what it would be like to be someone else.  I could be anyone, in a different situation, with a completely different reality.  Different parents, different city, country, the options are limitless.

At some point I would love to get up and speak to a large group of adoption agencies, and tell them what my experience has been and continues to be.  And how they act as God "Creating families" that should not be created to begin with.  The extreme sadness they have caused me.

Its a joke around my house, my adoption papers say "Baby Girl (C-2566)"  no name, nothing but a number!  So does this mean that when I was put into a foster home they called me..."Nothing?"  Just said, oh hey baby girl C-2566!    Its like a number from  a catalog!  ha!  Baby for sale!

All joking aside, I cannot deny that I do not feel warm and fuzzy about this.  I'm not super mad, but I would like to know "Who" had me for the first few months of my life?  And I'd like to know the family that brought me back!   I should be given the right to find out this information, its about me!

Those Hallmark movies and sappy TV shows will continue to be my favorite pass time, and I will probably continue to enjoy them regardless of the shoddy deal I got thanks to Holy Family Adoption Service, and those awful Nuns who were in charge back in the 60's.   I am moving forward, I have accepted what I cannot achieve and will not have in this lifetime.  That does not mean I cannot watch these movies and appreciate the mother/daughter bond.  It reminds me of my daughter & I, how attached we are to one another, and that makes me deeply happy, and has to be enough.

I wish I could go down to this adoption agency and tell them the devastating consequences their bad judgement and lack of common decency have been and that  it has taken me a lifetime to sort through all of the pain I have been dealt thanks to them!

Another one bites the dust.

My son went in for surgery a week ago.  We had this planned for quite awhile, and it was taking place less than a mile from my parents house.

The day before surgery, I spoke with mom.  My son suggested we pick her up on the way, she had said she wanted to come and visit and see Nick either before or after surgery.  She said no, she would come later.  OK.

We got to the hospital at 5:00am, I told mom I'd call her when it was almost time for surgery, and I did. We talked for awhile.

I called her about 6 times throughout the time he was in surgery, and afterwards in recovery.  I called one last time once he was put in a room for the night.

Around 5:00pm came, and mom called me.  She never said she was not coming, nor did she say she was coming to visit.  I just figured she would considering she lives just up the street.

I never did hear anything from mom, and she never showed up.  My son agreed to stop by her house on the way home.  So we did, she seemed odd.

I was super disappointed, I went through waiting alone, for 3 hours my son was in surgery.  Just in February my sisters husband had surgery.  I went to sit with her so she was not alone.  My mom made a big deal about it, said how wonderful it was and how nice it was that my sister did not have to wait alone.

So I told my sister about this, and I also figured out through my kids that my sisters daughter was in town, and went to visit my mom on the same day my son had surgery.  My kids figured she knew my niece was coming and didnt want to leave to go see my son.

I mentioned this scenario to my sister, and she insisted that mom did not know Kristina was coming.   I find thats hard to believe.

So my sister has made every excuse under the sun for mom, like she always does.  I on the other hand am kind of over it.  I guess being alone for surgery is OK for me, but not them?  I'm not sure how I can look at this any other way?  My mom could have walked to the hospital, I offered to come pick her up, she could have taken the Blue Bus,  1/2 mile.

The point is, coming to sit with me and see my son was not important enough for her.  If it were important, she would have come.

I seriously have to reconsider my position.  I am too defeated with these types of situations.  I expect somewhat of the same consideration from my family.  Yet I dont get it, and continue to be disappointed.  My kids say that grandma doesnt care about them as much as she cares about my sisters kids.  Ask any one of them and they'd quickly tell you their side and journey with my family.

What do I do I thought?  I called mom finally 5 days after surgery.  She seemed nutty, confused, and never apologized for not showing up, or for not being there for me.

This is old news, too much for me at almost age 49.  I dont recover as quickly from my child having surgery, and then added to that is this emotional stuff.  I texted my sister screen shots of the outgoing calls I made to mom, so maybe if mom denied that I had ever called her, my sister would have proof that mom has gone around the bend?

I wont know the answer, my sister may never ask her why she didnt show up.   I am still the dirty, disheveled kid that was left behind in the shopping cart.  That is how I sometimes feel, when my so called family flakes on me.