DOES IT REALLY MATTER?

Does it pay to be cruel to others, to force them to see your truth?  Does it really matter if my family understands how I feel, about being adopted?   It will make me feel better, but I honestly do not believe it matters to them.

I have shown them pictures of extended family members, they look and dont have much to say, but not one has asked to see any pictures of anyone.   We were discussing family when I got together with my mom, her sister (my awesome aunt) and my sister.   I chimed into the discussion, as they were talking about having any sort of American Indian in their blood.  I said I could be part of a tribe, my great-great grandmother is full blood.  Its not that far removed.  Oh really, they said, and changed the subject.

People that want to know about adoption, they are the people that listen.   My parents generation, and even my sister who is 51 years old, they dont seem to give a hoot about how I feel, my experience, and in my opinion, the most shocking, they could care less about who I look like.

They are forced into discussion if I choose to talk about who I look like, or who my children take after.  I dont bring it up myself, I'm forced into it while the rest of my family is discussing who my sisters son and daughter take after, etc.  I sit there like an idiot, have no place in the conversation, and will chime in when I feel the time is right.  Their response, blank faces, no emotion, no comments.  And if there is a comment, its usually a negative one.  Um, I understand you all dont like my birth family, but then again, we really were not discussing if we liked them, were we?  Because last I checked, we were talking about how my sisters son looks like my dad, and hey, nobody likes our dad!   And plenty of the other relatives from my mom and dads side we didnt like!  We were just saying who looks like who, and I realize this makes them very uncomfortable when I say my son looks like grandpa Leo, from my birth family.

My point is, why forcing them to discuss this?  They dont care, and dont want to be educated.  They continue in their ignorance with happiness.  When I do bring up the dreaded discussion, im greeted with uncomfortable silence, unhappy faces, and negative words, if any are spoken.

So if I feel the need to talk about it, I talk to the good husband.  I start a sentence, and he practically finishes it for me.  He understands my point of view, he really gets it.  And that, is enough for me, and the only soap box I wish to be on.

I was right....the silence continues

I have not had a single response from birth mother since I contacted her.  Yes, she did respond to ME initially, but she has not contacted me on her own.   I am OK with this, because I dont feel the same about her as I used to.  I dont have the desire, but its interesting to see that I was right.  She was texting my aunt to get to me.  The texting has stopped.

My (adoptive) mom is still the same as well, this is just my lot in life.   I basically have no mom.  I call her mom, she acts as though she is my mom.  I am just some other woman's baby, that she has kept for 46 years.

A good example of this, was just last month when I was told at her birthday lunch with my sister.  She tells me, in this backwards sort of way, like she's terribly guilty of doing something wrong, and trying to tip toe around the subject.  She tells me that she went to an attorney to get her family trust fixed.  My dad was the first one on the list, but now that he's had a stroke and cannot speak, she has taken him off.  OK, I thought, this is a good idea.  Well here it comes.  She cleverly tells me that she drove all the way out to my town, and took my sister with her to see this attorney....oh, but your name is on the papers, it always was Cathy....     OK, so why in the heck did you not call me and tell me that you were coming all the way out to our neighborhood and why didnt you invite me to come along if you are saying I'm such an important part of this process?

I wonder if my mom has any idea how this makes me feel?  I have yet to tell her, but right now, writing this, I realize I have to call her out on it.  I'm 46 years old, not 9 years old.  And why am I not important enough to tell?  Better yet, why would they get together and not tell me, or invite me?  One can only think of one answer...and you know what that answer is, dont you?

I'm that baby, someone else's baby, she calls her daughter.  In reality, I'm just that.  I dont look like them, I am not important or trustworthy enough to be invited to attorney meetings to discuss my mothers trust.  My sister works all day long, so you know she planned this around her schedule.  Then why not at least invite me, let me know? 

So, that is the bottom line, I really feel this is true, regardless if mom never admits to it.  I'm someone else's baby, even though I am a grown woman, I am still treated like I am not quite as important as the birth sister and not trusted like her own child.  

Sad, really....

HOW DID I KNOW at age 5?

Looking back, I wonder how I knew at such a young age?   I never spoke of it, it was never discussed.  How did I know, it was February 1972.  I was 5 years old.  It was 6:00am.   I should have been confused being jolted out of sleep from a 6.6 earthquake.  But I wasnt.   I remember the sounds the earthquake made, that scared me more than the shaking.   My parents came into our room, my sister and I slept in twin beds in the same room.  They both went to my sister.  At that moment, while the earth was shaking, and making noise that sounded like a train was going to come ripping through my bedroom, time stood still.  I knew at age 6, during an earthquake that my parents were fighting about which one of them would come and comfort me.  I couldnt believe they were struggling, I was supposed to be their baby, and I thought it did not make a difference  they had my sister, and I was adopted.  At age 6, I knew what they were thinking, and why they did not want to come and comfort me during a 6.6 earthquake.  I wanted mom, but got dad, but the earthquake was over.   My mom did not come to me, I saw the look in both of their eyes, the look on their faces.  That was a defining moment for me, it was then I knew there was a difference, and that I was not loved the same way as my sister.

How did I know at age 5?  I may have known before that, but at this age I could reason a lot better, and make sense of things.  I knew that I wanted someone to come running to me during the earthquake.  I knew my parents didnt want to come and comfort and rescue me, and I knew what that meant after being told at age 2 that I was adopted.  Age 2 I knew I was different.... I was told I was special.  That my birth parents loved me so much, they gave me away.  That could be why I always hid under furniture, always feeling like I was waiting to be picked up?  Maybe I thought they were coming back for me, if they loved me so much.  The sadness I felt at age 2, is real, even if I did not understand why myself.  I didnt understand the concept of adoption at age 2, but at age 5, I knew perfectly well how I felt, and the consequences of adoption for me.

AVOIDING THINGS....

I go back and forth when it comes to dealing with my adoption issues.  I know, I'm 46 years old and why dont I just get over it and move on.  Easier said than done.  If all was well, my birth mom, birth dad, mom, dad and sister were all in sync, then maybe, just maybe I would be able to move on.

This is a big cross to bear, managing all these people.  Im really OK, on a whole.  But when you get down to the nitty gritty, there are small issues, festering inside of me.  I realize they are there at times, when family members act stupid, or something is said about this or that.  Usually something un-kind or hurtful about our family, excluding me from the mix, you know what I mean, I've blogged about it before.

What to do with all these thoughts and feelings.  I dont like adoption.  I feel very passionate about keeping your child.  At the same time I know it happens, and I know its needed.  That does not mean I have to like it.  I've been to open adoption meetings in the past, where there was a young girl with her mom & boyfriend, planning on giving away her baby.  The mother said some very ignorant things in my opinion.  I mean, it would be a cold day in hell when I told my daughter that I did not want my grandchild, regardless of the situation.  People, it would never happen, ever.  I would take care of the baby, my husband would too.  This goes for my sons as well, I would help their girlfriends as well.

Would my opinion be different if my adoption situation was different?  NO.  Not when it comes to MY grand babies.  What in the heck is wrong with people?  Encouraging your child to GIVE AWAY YOUR GRAND CHILD?   Other peoples situations upset me too, I may have more understanding if the mother was old enough to make her own decision.   I doubt it.  But, if I did have a wonderful adoption experience, maybe I would be more tolerant?   You would think that because I have such rotten birth parents, I would be against keeping your child, right?  NO.   If I was kept, would I have made a difference in everyones lives?  YES.  My full brother would of had an older sister to help him, I was the wise child, I was born strong.   I dont mean I became strong, I was strong when I was born, at a young age.  I think I would have put everyone in their place, and things would have been different?  hard to know, but that is what I believe to be true.  I could be wrong people, I  admit that I could be totally wrong.

Was it my place to fix things?  who knows?  I hear about the oldest child in the family having their place,  etc.

Well, I really have a strong opinion about adoption.  It was my biggest fear when my son had a girlfriend in high school, that she would become pregnant, and give away my grandchild.  I know, ridiculous!  But I had a full nightmare one night about this.  This is what goes through the mind of an adult adoptee.  It had to be the worst nightmare and thoughts of my entire life, besides losing one of my children.  The thought that it was even possible freaked me out, put me in a total tail spin.

The worst part is, my family, my mom & sister, both felt that if this happened to one of my children, or if it happened to my sisters daughter, they would just give that baby away!  Another HUGE fight.  This made me almost literally sick to hear this come from my mother and my sister.  HOW COULD THEY SAY THIS?  After the hell I had been through?  How could they see it right to give away a grandchild?

I dont understand this people.  Giving away your grandchild.  Encouraging it.  Sure, that child may be placed in a great family.  But what if they are not?  Then what?  You have given your own grandchild away to someone that could possibly not love her, abuse her and mistreat.

OK, I've said enough.

POSSIBLY A BIT STIFLED?

Well I have been reading other peoples posts about adoption in general.  I find myself having quite an opinion about adoption, but feel almost scared to voice it.

There is so much controversy, I'm afraid to speak my mind.  I wonder how many adoptee's feel this way?   

MOMMY ISNT COMING AND IM OK....

I used to set myself up, have these ideas as to what I wanted her to say and do in any given situation.  When she did not perform, I would be crushed.  This has gone on for years, even as recent as July of 2011.

She tells me she will help me, 500%, and then disappears, and is nowhere to be found.  She is not true to her word.  So many broken promises, so much betrayal.  She is a good person, just not a good mom to me.

In just one month, I've been brutally honest with myself.  I have exposed the child with a great big  fantasy.  In doing so, I have felt sadness at times, and I've had to sit down to realize why I am sad.  Have you ever just felt sad and didnt know why?  Well, I would guess these stupid fantasies I have kept up for over 40 years are not easy to destroy.

What is it about adopted children that make them create this mommy fantasy?  Is it because we are taken away from our mother at birth?   At a very young age, as young as 2, I remember feeling sad, feelings of waiting to be picked up, like the kid waiting to be picked up after school, only to realize she has been forgotten.    This has to come from somewhere.  Well, I sure have done a whopper of a job creating this mommy that does not exist.  Multiple mommies, both birth and adoptive mommies.

Im feeling possibly a bit embarrassed.   Im not a little kid.  I'm a grown woman, and I should have exposed this a long time ago.  But wow, is this painful.  Having to accept and face the fact that I do not have a mom.  She is not coming for me, nor is she waiting around the corner to take me to get ice cream.  She will not take me shopping the way I take my daughter shopping, we will not enjoy moments together as I have hoped and dreamed we would.  She will never give me hugs and kisses as I had dreamed she would these 46 years.   She will never look into my eyes with adoration and true love, like I've wanted her to.   The bond I hoped for is not there.  I can barely face this, and its just devastating.  Why do I keep going back for more disappointment?   I know why, its this stupid fantasy, that has kept me emotionally, around 5 years old.   Why does this hurt so much for a girl to not have her mom?   Where do I put all of this disappointment?

She is not coming for me, and I have to face this reality.  I have to give mom her real personality,  she has to measure up to who she really is, and I have to accept that she has betrayed me, left me, abandoned me in the past and at the current time.

I guess, from what my husband tells me, that I have this gift of giving out fake personalities, that my mom has always been this way, and I seem to make her into something else, so I would have to guess this fantasy has officially been exposed, for everyone to see, at least that is how I feel this morning.  I am exposing Cathy, age 46, emotionally around age 5 regarding mommy fantasy.  I promise to stop pretending, and be honest about who my mommy really is.  I have to accept that she does not exist.

life goes on without mother

Throughout this journey of sorting through my secrets, secrets that I kept from myself, apparently for most of my adult life,  I have found that the world continues to spin, with or without mother.  I love my life, my husband and my children.

Having said this, I have to be honest and say, that without the searching, and sorting, and blogging, I would not be able to say that I am this person, the happy woman with the cute husband and great kids.  I wouldnt know that I was suffering, because I have hid this misery from myself for so many years.  I pretended that I was not hurt, abused, and  felt unloved by my family.   Now, I know it is possible, to be a jerk and not know it.  To be so confused inside that you dont know what your saying or doing.  Its not as easy as saying, "Im over it"    or "Your such a good person, and deserve better"  or any of that mumbo jumbo.  A light switch cannot be flipped, and all of a sudden you feel, OK.

Happiness and self love, and all that good stuff is attainable, through hard work.  If you are an analytical person like I am,  I think it may cause a little bit more suffering, and possible heartache.  I always want an answer, an explanation, better understanding, of pretty much everything.  I have found that not everyone is like me.  But I am me, and this is how I work.   So, you wanna get together for Christmas dinner and then make a nasty joke about some bastard kid, and adopted kid?  Hmmm.....I'm going to have to figure out why you'd choose such a joke on Christmas, in front of me.  I wont say anything, but I will be busy thinking, and wondering, are you just that stupid, or are you trying to diss me?  Or are you just not really thinking about the fact that I am that bastard adopted kid, that struggled so many years to feel like she fit into this family?  Maybe you just think of me as one of you, and see no difference?  However, then why has it been asked, "Who is your mother, anyhow" --- by one of my teen relatives, who's name I will not mention. Lets just say she is my niece.  Or better yet, during a family gathering, asking me to take a picture of 3 generations of women in the family, myself excluded?  WTF?  Oh, well, so be it.  I get it, I dont look like you guys, but wait a minute, dont be such an ass hole about it.  What else could it mean, excluding me?  Did you forget I was the sister, the daughter, the aunt?