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.

My life, The Truman Show....

I wasn't adopted by a corporation, but after mom told me last week that it was my dads sperm that were the problem that kept them from having another baby, I've been in deep thought.

So much has been said in this past week, as my dad told us that he doesn't want to continue to live once he is totally blind, and that is something that is coming any day.

It makes sense why he has never liked me or wanted me.  Maybe he did while I was cute and couldn't really communicate.

It also makes sense why mom never fully bonded with me.  She wanted to adopt and dad did not.  So liking and loving me meant betraying her husband.

She always chose him, instead of me.

I'm not sure what this means to me, exactly.  I just know mom told me she wishes she could go back and make other choices, even though her life is exactly the same today as it was back then.  She still refuses to make different choices with my dad now.

Can I believe what she says?  I'm not sure?  Does it matter?  Where do I fit in to this family, and why can't all of us talk about it, with real meaning and stop pretending it doesn't exist?

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.    

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.

Birth moms pic, tucked away in the [Junk] drawer....

Its amazing how much stress one small framed picture of my birth mom has caused me.  Maybe its more of a debate, within myself?  The picture in the frame is of the "Old" birth mom, before she changed.  When we first met, this is what she looked like.   I cannot explain how much she's changed since this picture was taken, back in 1984.  Yeah, we all change, I know.   But, she was drastically different, she was married, lived in a nice home, did not work.  Loved to garden, sew, cook and smoke salmon.  Once her husband left her, everything went to pieces.   Her views on life became jaded, and she's yet to recover.   That was around the time we were married, 27 years ago.   Considering we've been in reunion since 1984, that pretty much tells you we've had a dysfunctional, painful and disappointing relationship most of our reunion.   Its been a battle, a fight to try and hold onto the birth mom I  initially met, and liked!

I cut all ties with Nancy in February of 2014.  Nancy is my birth mom, by the way.  We had been talking again, but I have not seen the woman in so many years its mind boggling.  Over the past few years she's refused to meet me anywhere, that really puzzled me.  I chalked it up to the fact that my birth brother and I don't like one another, and she is so involved in his life maybe it was hard to see me and keep it a secret?

Why do I have to be the one that is a secret?  Why can't my birth brother be the secret?  I've done nothing wrong, except protect myself from unnecessary harm due to both of their indiscretions, to put it lightly.

She thinks I have a problem because every time we start talking, I cut it off.  She cannot have a relationship with me without rambling on and on about my birth brother or telling half truths about his life.  Drives me nuts, that she lies.  Without getting into details and telling stories, this is the bottom line.  I told her that I can have a relationship with her only if my brother is out of the mix.  She cannot do it, and so I have chosen to walk away.   Its not that simple, writing this makes me sound shallow, and unable to bend.  As I've blogged about in the past,  craziness happens in our lives when my brother is allowed even an inch.  Craziness happens with Nancy in my life too, but both of them puts me over the edge.

The process of accepting this is brutal.  I took her picture out of that junk drawer so many times.  I mean put it up, took it down over and over again until it found its resting spot for now.   There is shame involved in this, not shame for wanting her in the drawer, but for even having her pic in a frame.  Does she deserve to be displayed amongst the loves of my life?  What does she deserve?  Truth is I don't have the answer.  Maybe what she really deserves I am not giving her?  Or, because of her life choices she has changed what she deserves?  Does it matter how bad she is?  If she were decent and honest, I would probably allow her pic to be placed next to my loved ones.   I would not allow my brothers picture to be anywhere in my house.  That man is turning 40 next month, has threatened one too many times to kill my entire family, so honestly he deserves absolutely nothing on the subject of loyalty.

Today, I do not miss her, I do not want her around, nor do I have the desire to even chat with her.  I always have this silent battle inside about her, because she thinks I have the problem, not her.  That bugs me!   She can't own what she's done, and quite possibly she has buried it so deeply, not even she can see it herself.   I have apologized to her many times, saying that I am greatly sorry that I cannot tolerate her being less than truthful about my brother, and every time things go well for the two of us she muddies the water by bringing up his craziness.  Then, later on she tells people that "Her daughter" is crazy"!!!!  Yeah I'm crazy, sick and tired of her lies, and her deceit, and her betrayal and have come to the conclusion she is not mentally well, for whatever the reason.  She does take a lot of pain meds she really does need, so maybe her mind is clouded and confused a lot?

Why does adoption always feel so yucky inside to me?  Why am I the one that is always battling inside, when its obvious I am the only one doing this,  the others don't give a darn.  They probably don't suffer inside like I do, they were never put in this position to feel as though they have to "Manange" so many people, only the adoptee is left to battle this, and I honestly think we are supposed to do it in silence, suffer in silence, and endure the long and difficult battle of reunion alone.

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.

Turns out, not so funny story...I guess?

I was telling my aunt Mary, my birth fathers sister who happens to be my age about something that was told to me years ago.  At the time the story was told, I was probably in my early 20's, and I'm guessing a tad bit easier going than I am now?  You know, just didnt think too much about anything.  At the time, it was dangerous, I was on the edge and knew just to keep everything compartmentalized.

Anyhow, my birth mom  told me the story about how her family found out she was pregnant with me.  How everyone was torn apart, she was in the bath tub, and her mom came in, realizing she was pregnant.  Her father was in the hall, and her mother told him the news.  He replied, "Not Nancy, shes too smart for that" -  REALLY?  SHE's too smart for that, I'm guessing it was the immaculate conception, right?  She got pregnant by herself I was probably thinking when I heard the story.

My birth mom continued with the story, she had been trying to abort me.  Using Coca-Cola, ways I never thought possible, to make the pregnancy go away.  Long hot, almost boiling baths to somehow make me go away.  Her girlfriend had helped her find ways of aborting.  As you can all see, it didnt work, as I type this blog at age 48!  ha!

So theres the story.  Was told many times to me by my birth mom.  When I told my Aunt, she seemed shocked, taken back with this loud noise like she had just seen a giant rat in her house.  I guess its kind of mean to tell such a story to one's child you've just met for the first time, maybe it would have been better to keep this story a secret?

My aunt said something very important yesterday.  She commented on the Coca-Cola attempt and said its like "Your not the same person"  ---we both paused.  Silence.  We both realized that we discovered the truth.  Nancy, my birth mom, does not realize that I am that baby.  I am Cathy,  a person that does not really click in her head as being her child, like my full birth brother.  I am that baby in her belly that was trying to be aborted, she did not want me.  So I get it, she never bonded with me, she did not want me.   I was like this mistake she somehow had to deal with, and when she met me, she only wanted to be sure that I was indeed Doug's baby.  She had been messing around with another man, and everyone pointed the finger at this other guy.  So she really did find me just out of pure selfishness.  Just out of curiosity.  She wanted to clear her name, rub it in everyone's face.  To show the world that yes, I was Doug's baby.

Well, she succeeded.  My grandmother, my Aunt Mary's mom, almost had a heart attack when looking at my baby pictures.  It was clear, I was Doug's baby.  That was enough for her, she went through some of the motions, for a short period of time, but after that, it was pretty much over for her.

So what does this mean to me now?  Maybe, just maybe, it gives me some insight to why she has behaved so badly over the past 30 years?   I would not behave this way, but this could be how she has survived it?

It does not change how I feel, or what has happened.  I do not want anything to do with this woman.  But it could clear up a lot of things, mainly why she sees me and does not connect me with being her baby.

Enough time has passed

I feel enough time has passed to safely say I have done everything possible to try and make amends with my birth mom.  To force her to love me, to reciprocate.  I even forced her to a CUB retreat, where she was incapable of hugging me, brushing my hair, or saying that she loved me.  To this day this woman has never said, "I love you."

I have been forgiving.  I have gone back for more after forgiving and never hearing an apology from her.

I have been helpful.  I have helped both her and my birth brother countless times over the past 30 years.   I have helped financially, emotionally, and  physically.  I have NEVER asked her for a penny, for emotional or physical help in these 30 years.

I have overlooked a lot of adversity.  I have ignored and overlooked her stealing, cheating, and lying..for 30 years.

I keep asking myself, "What do you want from this woman"  --  I know the answer.    Unfortunately, the answer cannot be attained in this life.  My birth mom is not capable of love, nurturing, being my mom.

Having said that, why would I talk to a woman who cannot be my friend, my birth mother, or treat my children with respect and kindness, or even think of them.

What do we have to say to one another?  What would a conversation look like?  Well, I know what it looks like, one sided.  Her side full of hatred, lies, betrayal and mine full of hope.

What is the point?  Because she gave birth to me I am bound to endure her betrayal again and again?

I will never get what I want from this woman I call my birth mom.  The reason for the title of this blog, "Fantasy mom has died"  -- she has been buried, and is gone, even though she has not really died.   Its the process of acceptance, of things I cannot attain, cannot change or continue to have hope for.  I believe to the depths of my soul that 30 years is long enough to safely say, "Enough."

Enough.

Adoption makes no SENSE at times!

If I sit and think things through, I understand why my family doesnt get it.  In my mind, it makes sense. I can get to the end and understand every single person's position.  Where they are emotionally, and why.

In real life, it does not make sense, because I cant find the solution.  I know what needs to be done, what needs to be said, to be cleared up,  to be able to move forward to the next level.

I need to go to the next level.   I have to sit and think about how I can get this accomplished.  Mom does not want to discuss things that make her uncomfortable, and to be honest, I dont think she can be very honest.  Its too painful to admit things about our lives, and its possible she is not even aware of how she really feels.  She has spent so many years in a dysfunctional marriage, and been the caretaker of my dad, and has been abused herself, she may not know which end is up...so to speak.

OK, so I'm back to the same level I'm at.  I may have to accept this level.  I may have to realize that I have to micro manage my family.  I have to be thick skinned, accept the insults, accept the comments.  Im supposed to keep excusing mom's words, and I have to believe she really doesnt mean any of them.

Do I get smart, and call her out on her words.  Or do I just continue to pretend that she really isnt saying them, and excuse her.  Wait.  Isnt that why I'm blogging, to get rid of this "Fantasy Mother" that really does not exist.  Am I supposed to continue with this fantasy, keep pretending to make their lives easier?

Why do I always have to be the one making their lives easier?  Why do I have to compromise?  My sister says Im too sensitive, and that mom does not really mean what she says.  OK, then what does she mean?   I ask her, does mom say these things to you....no....ok....then what do you mean?   So I'm continued to be told to shut up, in a nice way.  I should not make anyone feel uncomfortable.  OK...so go back to my first sentence....I know why mom is this way, I get it.  But were all adults, lets just get through this and go to the next level.

See why Im stuck.  The work has to be done by myself.  I have to somehow find a way of accepting this.  I go through the motions of family life, but somewhat detached.  I'm not feeling the same way as they rest of them are.  My kids are not feeling the same as their cousins.  Our bond and attachment is different with my parents, and I am woman enough to admit it.

So I have to find a comfortable place and accept that family life will be just as its always been.   I am not saying I dont love them, I'd do anything for my family.  I just would like to "Feel" differently.  As I've said before, I dont like having this disconnect, which is why I continue to search for ways of repairing this.    I search within to find answers, and solutions.

There is no quick fix, you cant say "Move on" or "Get over it" - does not work.  How does one  feel that bond when its never been there to begin with ?   I guess all of the parties involved possibly feel this way,  searching for a bond that does not exist.  There is loyalty for all parties, which is an important feeling, but its different than that bond.   Maybe that is enough?  Maybe I just have to accept and go to the next level knowing that loyalty and knowing my place as their daughter is enough?  I cant change what has been done, or said, or continues to be said and done.  I cant create a bond...like I have with my own family.

I just looked up the meaning of the word "Bond."  And I found an article written in Psychology Today talking about mother-daughter relationship.  They stated, "There is great value in the mother-daughter tie because the two parties care for one another and share a strong investment in the family as a whole,"  ---I find that interesting.  All of you adoptive moms out there, remember how important it is to make sure your adopted daughters feel like they are part of the family, and investing in the family as a whole.   This is crucial to make sure your daughter grows up knowing her position, her place, and realizes her importance in your life.  Age 48 she should never be told that "Now, she is part of a family."  --She has to know immediately, her worth, her value to you and your extended families and cherished as though you gave birth to her yourself.  

Self-fulfilling prophecy! (laugh)

I wish my life could be summed up in a few sentences, using the term "Self-fulfilling prophecy" to solve everything.

Dont you wish you could just say, oh, I was wrong about everything...just kidding, I just made this stuff up!  I had nothing better to do for the past 48 years, just thought I'd write a blog that contained nothing but lies. or self fulfilling prophecies!  hahaha!

People like to reduce others experiences, how they feel,  to tell others "To get over it" or "Forget about it" even if the abuse in many forms continues to happen now.

It is easier to move forward if the same old stuff  is no longer happening.  If the people that matter to you are no longer jerks.  Makes this process that so many geniuses are always pushing onto others, you know the "Get over it" theory.  Give me a break!  You get over it.

Having said that, I received a comment to my last blog.  Someone who remains anonymous said they had only read one of my blogs, but thinks I have created a self-fulfilling prophecy.  That my perception of what was said, and what is said, and continues to be said must be wrong.  That I am too sensitive.  That I think back to the past and somehow bring it into the future, the current time.  So basically I am full of it.

Hmmm...just wondering, how many "Non-adopted" people out there were told age 48, "Now you are part of a family."    This was said many times during a conversation, and after receiving some precious china from my mom's mom.  I blogged about it.  After I told her how special it was having her mothers china, and how I realized I now had so many generations of women's china in my cabinet.  This felt like such a blow to my gut.  Here I am so proud and happy to have this china, and this moment is being reduced and deducted to a mistake.  And I am then reminded that see Cathy, now you are part of a family.  Who says this to their daughter?  Especially not after saying that the box containing the china really didnt belong to me , but to my sisters daughter.  It would never come out of my mouth if I already thought my daughter was my daughter.  As I blogged, I immediately said I dont have to own anything, I can share this china or give it to my niece.  The china is not the issue, its my moms opinion and feelings for me.  I dont want it that badly and I love my niece, I'd give her anything I had.  That is my point.  I dont care about the china, its what it means to her, and her giving it to me was the honor.  As the honor was quickly changed to something else.  A mistake.  And I have to add she does this all the time.  Reduces things and somewhat of a slap on the face sort of feeling, punched in the gut.  Maybe she doesnt realize what she is doing?  Its comfortable for her, she is used to behaving this way ?  I dont know, thats why I blog in hopes to find the answers.

Just curious, all you folks out there, how many birth kids were told this?  How many birth kids were left out of generation pictures because of family members not being "SENSITIVE" enough to think past their rear and realize, oh yeah, Cathy and her daughter are part of this picture.  This is just an example.    How many of you birth kids can say that you dont have any genetics in common with your parents, grandparents, etc.   Honestly, I think my family are clueless of the insensitive and cruel things they say and do.  I dont think they do it to be mean, its a bad habit, one they've become used to .

Dont tell me you know,  or that is the same.  It is not the same.    I dont know what its like to  grow up with a birth mom, and you have no clue what its like to grow up as the adopted child, with an older sister that was NOT adopted...if you are not adopted.    No fault of my sisters, or my own.  Nobody is really at fault here, its just the way it is.   Lack of knowledge from the get go.

Having said that, I chose to create a blog to help myself.  Not to argue with ignorant people that make stupid comments.  Im serious, no sarcasm here.  I mean what I say, if you dont like it, simply dont read it.  If my experience bothers you, or upsets you too much, just dont read.  I will not apologize for how I feel and what did happen and is happening.

This journey has allowed me to not repeat what was done to me.  The abused usually become abusers.  I have not repeated this cycle.  The domino effect has not continued because of my honesty.  Again, if you want to sweep the abuse and dysfunction under the carpet, go for it, but I cannot be part of it.

Saying I have created a self fulfilling prophecy is ignorant.  I did not abuse myself, I did not choose to be adopted.  I cannot deny that ignorance annoys me, and this is the only place I can really say so.

Lots of bargaining and sorting today

Wow, I'm ashamed that I still keep trying to bargain for a different set of moms.  Yes, I intellectually know the situation wont change.  I know my birth mom is not available, never  has been, emotionally, or physically, for me or my family.  My mom is around, but she is also unavailable to a point.  I sit here this morning, trying to sort through the things my birth mom recently said to me.  The fact that she does not have a bond with me, honestly doesnt give a darn if I drop off the face of this earth.  She backs what my full birth brother does, age 39, regardless if he's wrong.  She's been enabling him for 20 years now.  She is a liar, yeah, I know this.  She cheats, yeah I know this.  She's dishonest, oh wait that was covered under a liar.  Probably the worst part is, she tells false stories, and people believe her.

OK, so what is it that I want?   I'm doing it again, trying to restore that fantasy I've had forever.  It must be a mistake, I must have the wrong woman.  How could this woman be my birth mother?

I keep searching for the good.   She sometimes seems to be on my side, she kind of seems to like me, then when she tells me these terrible stories about my birth brother (she kept) dating these young girls, etc (I wont elaborate) she pretends like she does not know what has happened over the past 30 years of our reunion.  She acts like an idiot, pretends she doesnt know what I'm talking about, and a stranger would think after she's done talking, that my birth brother is a saint, a wonderful and honest person that has his life together.  She is clever, she is crafty, she is believable.

OK, so she tells me stories I have asked not to hear about my birth brother, I get upset, and then she turns on me.  Tells me that I say nasty words to her, and before I was fine.  She doesnt understand why I get upset with her, and say what I say...YES SHE DOES.  As though there is no basis for my  words?  What, is she kidding me?  Thats like being the mother of a murderer who then turns to another and says her son is a saint, wonderful person, and expecting to hear a glowing review.  I dont know what she wants me to say in response, I cannot lie.  Its the pure truth that my birth brother is a non functioning person, has type 1 diabetes, has bipolar disorder, has severe OCD, has severe anxiety he cannot go in public much.  He takes steroids to build his muscles - has abused drugs for many years, such as meth, LSD, and another liquid drug that destroys the brain.  Oh, and he has irreversible brain damage from drugs as well.    I'm not making this stuff up.  Why does she turn on me and make me seem like the villain?  I am the easy kid, never did drugs, got married and I'm still happily married, independent.  I was lucky not to get any mental disorder such as bipolar disorder, I dont have any OCD, and I dont have anxiety disorder.  That was just pure luck of the draw!

This is why I sit here this morning, bargaining.  Thinking maybe theres a way to make this right, when in reality, I have tried over and over again and failed.    Never able to make it right, and never able to get through to her.  Each time she gets mad at me, pretending that I am the villain, when in reality, I am just being truthful and have been nothing but up front with her about our relationship and what I want.

I have wanted her to act more like a mom, not someone you met just yesterday.  I wanted her to be like family, act like the grandma to my kids.  I wanted her to be involved with my extended family.  None of these things have ever happened, and its been 30 years this year.  Time to get my head cleared out and straight.  She is not coming for me, or making this right.  Its ridiculous for me to continue to have hope, dont you think?  I mean 30 years is a long time to wait!  I have been patient, I have gone back to her again and again.  Maybe I need to write her a letter, explaining what I have wanted from her, so there is no misunderstanding.

All I know is that I need to get a grip on myself.  I have to stop bargaining.  Maybe I was not meant to have a mom, maybe this is my cross to bear.  Maybe I am supposed to learn how to give what I did not get, which I believe I am successfully doing now, with my own kids.  I think that is what I am supposed to do in this lifetime, be accepting.

What do they mean?

I'm always trying to figure out what my family means when they say the things they say.

My brother in law  is in hospital for surgery.  I go to sit and wait with my sister.  It was a long wait and an awful experience to have alone.

I hear from my A-mom, how appreciative "They are" that I went and sat for hours...with my sister (called by name)    I shrugged it off.  Trying to focus on what someone told me about being too sensitive...oh it was my sister.

Again, its said.  "They" appreciate it so much that I sat for hours.  Here comes the crickets again, dead silence on my end as I search for a response.  I think I said, Uh-huh and quickly ended the cell phone conversation.

OK, and again its said by A-mom, that "They" really appreciate me spending the time with my sister.  I have only one sibling, my sister.  On and on about it.  OK, time limit to how many times you can say this and not really mean it has been met.    This wasnt some slip on her end, she means what she says after repeating it over and over in a  7 hour time frame.

My nephew grabbed us coffee, the hospital cafeteria was closed.  And a nice snack for me as well.  So after I went home I texted and said again, thanks so much for grabbing us coffee and a snack.  He thanked me for sitting with his mom, my sister.

I answered "I am your moms sister, this is what sisters do."  I got a smiley face in response.

Dont they know I am the sister?  I have known her husband, my nephews father, the one in the hospital now for about 30+ years.  We have spent the past 28 Christmas' and Thanksgivings with them, countless birthday parties, fourth of July, Easter, etc.

What does this mean?  Am I the outsider, the friend they are thanking, or am I the daughter, the sister and the aunt?  I'm confused, because who says this to her own daughter?  Im just curious to know what it means?  Why is my own mother thanking me for sitting with my own sister while her husband has surgery?

SECRETS

One last blog for the day.

I wanted to mention that I keep a lot of secrets from my family.  They dont know this blog exists, and have not read it.

Truthfully, I doubt anyone in my family has any idea as to how I feel. They think they know!    If I asked them to read my blogs, my feelings, they'd probably be in shock or laugh, maybe even slug me.

Its too difficult for them to be honest, about what is happening now, what has happened.  They cannot and dont want to talk about any of the things I have blogged about.

My sister thinks its too late for my mom to change.  I disagree, and have clearly told her again and again that I dont think its too late for anyone...to change.

Problem is,  some of my family members are living seriously dysfunctional lives.  How can I ask them to be honest when they are not being honest with themselves in their own lives,  and have not been honest  for years?

As I have said before, tackling one's self takes a lot of discipline, and hard work.  Being honest with yourself is exhausting and hard.   Its not a task a lot of people want to start, because it can take years to finish!

 My husband and children somewhat understand me , so I am not totally alone, but its not something I talk about daily, or care to discuss on a regular basis, so I choose to do this blogging and self help somewhat alone.

Someday my family may read this blog, or my book I plan to write, and I will have to deal with that when the time comes.

So I am slowly branching out, allowing certain people to read my blog, and I find this extremely scary and hard.  What will people think, will they understand me, will they criticize me, will they not like me any longer?  Its possible, especially those family members who live their daily lives in serious denial.