Lost but not found

When I was found, I was almost 20 years old.    I blindly walked into reunion, expecting rainbows, ice cream cones, hugs and kisses.  I expected them all to love me, adore me, to want to know my entire life, play by play.  I was convinced they would want my precious keepsakes, like baby teeth I left out for the tooth fairy.  My blonde curls my mom cut and preserved in the family bible.  I thought reunion was going to be like "going home."  They would all understand me, think like me, and would teach me how to cook all the special secret family recipes I missed all those years. 

Meeting the families, I quickly realized something was just not quite right.    Why was everyone staring at me with confusion?  One grandma looked horrified and the other was scanning through my baby pictures to see if there was a resemblance.  That is what it looked like to me.  Then my one grandma asks for a nitro glycerin.  OK, I thought to myself, something is definitely not right, and now that grandma is popping a pill while looking at my baby pictures, its a confirmation!  

She starts to cry, something to the effect of, oh my baby, while looking at my baby pictures.   That is what I remember, I could be wrong, but it was for sure a distressed situation.  Looking back, I can now see the unspoken debate that was going on between all the adults.  My birth mom was somewhat amused, and everyone else seemed frantic, and the chaos of everyones emotions was very apparant to me.   My birth mom walked me to my car and I asked her, what is going on?  She gave me some ridiculous story that left me even more confused.   That was a long drive home, alone, with my thoughts.  For 20 years I had waited for this moment, my heart felt heavy, and I knew I wasn't getting ice cream, or cooking lessons,  the hugs and kisses didn't seem too promising.

I didnt know the truth behind my adoption, but I figured it was not going to be the truth I was told by my parents.    I heard a couple different stories, your birth  parents loved you so much but couldnt care for you.  My dad told the story of how I was picked out in the store, he'd  point to the imaginary wall and say, "This baby, no this baby" like they were shopping for a new toaster.   

I was pretty shocked when my birth mom sent me photos of herself and family,  in the mail.  I was expecting her to be a blonde, I had no idea she was part Lebanese.  She now likes to say I knew, but I did not know. I had a paper with non identifying information that really equaled nothing.

I did not receive anything from my birth dad in the mail, but I later spoke to him and we met alone.  I cannot deny the fact that I was so nervous, I was just a kid. 

The truth as I now see it, is a variation of different stories I have heard from different family members throughout the years.  My birth mom became pregnant with me.  She was dating (now confirmed) birth dad.  At some point in time, she wrote a letter to another boy she liked.  Saying something like, she didnt think his parents would allow him to marry her, so shes going to have now confirmed birth dad marry her.  But in this letter she tells this other boy, she cant wait for "Their" bundle of joy.   Probably the most disturbing story I have heard in all these years is the one my birth mom told me after we met.  She tells me her best friend came over,  she sat in boiling hot baths and used a coca cola douche, let your imagination decide what they were trying to do.

So at one point early in reunion, I went out to dinner with my birth dad, his mom and the family.  I was asked what blood type I was, at this point I really was not sure what was going on.  My birth mom has not been the most trusted source, in all these years, but she was very crafty and cunning throughout this whole ordeal.   She was smart, did not tell me the story, instead let me suffer and it took years for me to really understand completely what was going on. 

It wasn't until 2016 when my daughter somewhat forced me into doing Ancestry DNA.   She ordered the test and had it shipped to me.  Weeks went by, and I stared at that test, and finally after weeks of my daughter calling and asking me if I spit in that darn thing, I had the nerve to actually do it.  I sealed the box and dropped it off at the post office.  Then I started wondering to myself, what if my birth dad is not oneof the two men that I was told about ?  What if he's someone else, what then?  Weeks went by  and I was so anxious waiting for the results.  My daughter had already done the Ancestry DNA test and had her results.  I was driving to the grocery store and it hit me,  I can figure out the answer via her DNA results.  I went home and searched through her DNA results.  TA-DAA!    There it was, the answer to the question I have wondered about for 35 years.  

I decided to wait until my own DNA results to come in to tell anyone, even though I knew the man I had met was 100% my dad. 

Let me tell you, getting my DNA results was a  liberating moment for me.  Not knowing who fathered you for 52 years is a big deal.   I beg to differ with all those people who think I did it for revenge or some other stupid reason.  I did it for myself, I wanted to know my heritage and  I think every person should know this basic information, its their birth given right. 

OK, off my soap box!  But seriously, if it were not for modern science and DNA testing linking me to DNA matches who have extensive family trees, I would still not know the answer today. 

Divorced my birth mom

I started back to therapy, for a short time and decided to go back to Al-Anon.  I've been MIA for 16 years and decided it was time seeing the new challenges in my life.  I feel like I am in a better place now to process and make permanent decisions on a lot of  issues I have struggled with for 34 years.  One of them being my birth mom. 

I have made a difficult and permanent decision, and that was one of the reason for therapy.  I have decided, with the help of my therapist, to divorce my birth mom.  It is necessary and long overdue.  I have continued over the years to keep this "Fantasy" alive.  I have kept up the charade that my birth mom will somehow miraculously change and be my fantasy mom.

Its an awakening for me,  I feel like I have just woke up from a long sleep.  I've looked around and realized I have been punishing myself, and practically begging this woman to love me.  To accept me, and maybe even give me a hug and say, "I love you, unconditionally, no matter what."   I've compromised, Ive given more than I have received, and truthfully, I do not like what I have been offered.  I have been cheating myself, pretending that it doesn't matter, because she gave birth to me and I have to accept her the way she is.  I have even tried to convince her to love my children, her grandchildren, based on Ancestry rules.   She doesnt know my kids, and has never been interested in them since they were born. 

NO WAY!  Another BAM, smack in the face moment.  A punch in the gut for me, literally!  Hey, guess what, NO, I do NOT have to continue to speak to you because you gave birth to me.  I get to decide who is in my life,  and I have made the decision that I am a pretty good gal, and I am worthy of being loved, adored, appreciated and respected, unconditionally!  

I have raised with my husband, three wonderful humans.  Somehow, this woman I call my birth mom thinks her absence all these years is not a big deal.  She feels she can reap the benefits of calling our children "Her grandchildren" even if she has been absent most of their lives.  She feels it makes her look good, to have these three wonderful people as her grandchildren.   She would like to turn these wonderful humans against my husband and I, if possible....which it is not possible. 

The child she kept, is an addict, mentally ill and is a non functioning person.  My full birth brother is a sad person.  But he is also a dangerous person at the same time from what we have experienced.  Our grown kids do not trust him.    Another BAM, in my face moment.  I do not want him in my life either, and my family does not want him in their lives .  And guess what Cathy, you can say "NO."  I have said NO! 

I was knee deep in making a family tree on Ancestry.  I drove down and borrowed my birth moms family pictures to scan them.  I did a lot of work, put them all in new scrap books, organized everything.  I have found all the missing families in Lebanon, not an easy task.

Then the reality of it all sunk in.  Jealousy can be a dangerous emotion, dangerous and ugly and I believe this emotion is the catalyst for her behavior.   I had actually spoke to my brother on private messenger for the first time in about 13 years.  He asked about our grown kids, their jobs & lives.  I told him they are all happy, successful and in jobs that support them and we couldn't be happier for them all.   My birth mom stated she did not want to know what my brother and I talk about and not to even hint about our conversations.  OK, no big deal.    Next thing I know I am receiving a private message from her asking me not to tell my brother that our kids are successful and rich!  Yes, I quote "Rich."  Well, I have never stated anyone in my family are rich, its just not true!  hahaha!  She stated that by telling my brother that my kids have good jobs and are successful , will discourage him from seeking mental help!  OMG!  Seriously?   He has been unstable and non functioning since his early 20's and he's now pushing 44 years old! 

I guess that rule of not telling about my conversations with my brother only applies to me!  He must have told her half truths about our conversation!  Birth mom tells me that he feels bad that "The kids" are doing so well, he feels like a failure, etc.   I reminded her that our kids are grown adults now, does my brother realize the oldest is 29 and should be in jobs to support themselves now!  Hmmmm....well birth mom, your constant enabling of this grown man may be a big reason why he is almost 44 and still repeating the same mistakes and not seeking help and not able to take care of himself!     She clearly does not see what she is doing, and it is NOT my place or job to make her see.   Sad, but true, I just cant exert another ounce of energy on these two.   They are not my problem! 

Seriously, who does she think she is?   She then has the nerve to elude to the fact that my brother has never done anything to our kids over the past 20 years.  And has no idea why they have no interest in having a relationship with him!    WOW!   One can only guess that she has conveniently stuffed all the craziness that me, my husband and three grown adult children have experienced with my brother over the past 20 plus years.  Like its all erased, never existed and we are made out to be the liars, the mentally ill ones.   She has done this before, given me my brothers life and my life to my brother.  What is even more frightening, she is believable, and she is convincing, and charming and I feel she is also a person one cannot trust. I finally had a voice and spoke up and said, OK birth mom, what do you think would happen if my grown kids saw him now?  Do you think he is fit and mentally OK to see them?  She answered NO!  I said you are correct, if they saw him now, they'd never give him another chance!  My brother has sent me the most bizarre and crazy messages, my oldest son has said that he is "Tweaking" on drugs or is in some sort of psychosis.  Either could be true, he's done  hard core drugs over the years, and I truly believe he is still doing them now.  He was recently in jail I heard, and from what I understand was detoxing while in jail.  Yeah, I know, I made this up too, its all a lie, he really was not in jail, and if you spoke to birth mom, she'd convince you I made it all up and I was the one in jail!  HAHAHAHA! 

She has absolutely nothing to offer me.  No love, loyalty,  time, kindness, truth, stability, absolutely nothing.  Her morals, ideals, way of living and even her mother skills are completely and utterly opposite than mine. If she had not given birth to me, I would never even consider her as a friend.  Her title is no longer important to me, and truthfully she is nothing more than an egg donor.

I had a revelation that I wish I had never met her, just found out the ancestry information I dearly wanted.  Looking back I realize it was a mistake to waste so much time and energy on a woman who clearly has no plans on loving me, adoring me and my kids,  and a person who without batting an eyelash, is capable of betraying me! 

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.

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.    

"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.  

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.

IS THERE LIFE BEYOND ADOPTION?

I sometimes wonder if I am similar inside as others.  How I analyze and compare, summarize, prepare, collect my thoughts, wake up and think.

When I was  a little kid, I had a hard time understanding why I was me, and not someone else.  I would sit alone and try to hear what another kid was thinking.  I didnt understand why I couldnt hear them.  Maybe I was supposed to be some other kid in another state, or country?  I just knew I didnt belong in this body, with this family.

Is this normal for a 3 year old to think?

Something happens when a baby is taken or given up for adoption.  Something happened to me, something I had no control over.  Somehow, I got mixed up, in a lot of ways.  I missed someone I knew before I had the social skills to physically speak with, but I still knew I missed her.  I knew I didnt belong where I was, and went as far as thinking I was put in the wrong body, with the wrong thoughts, with the wrong parents, in the wrong house.

I am thinking, that these feelings never fully leave, you get busy with your own life, your husband and kids.  But when its quiet, and the kids are grown and gone, you start thinking again, and then you realize these ideas are not gone, just dormant.

I feel like I'm in pieces some days,  as though I am waiting for something, just not sure what!   I clean the house, do the laundry, do the dishes, scrub the floors, change the sheets.  Where is that missing piece?

I sit and start to blog again, wanting to get some of this brain fog to disappear.  I have no forgotten to do our taxes, I have done just about everything I need to do, except clean out the garage and that is next.   I have such a good time with my husband, I really love him, the life I have created is amazing.  But there is still something missing and it is most noticeable after a family get together.

 Do I just pretend its not there?  Do I just continue with the act I have perfected after so many years of performing?  And pretend I'm like the  other people that are not adopted?  Do you non-adoptee's feel this way?

I AM TITANIUM

"TITANIUM" - David Guetta  (song)  
I'm criticized but all your bullets ricochet
You shoot me down, but I get up
I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose
Fire away, fire away
Ricochet, you take your aim
Fire away, fire away
You shoot me down but I won't fall
I am titanium
___________________________________

This is my song, I decided last night...  

This song is the grown up version of me skipping through the parking lot of Lucky's supermarket, on my way home, knowing I'm ready to be pounded for something I did not do, or for no reason at all.  In my head I hear my own voice clearly, I've blocked out the rest of the world as I skip chanting, "I'm a good girl, I'm a good girl, He's a bad man, He's a bad man."

Now as I hear this song so emotionally performed, not meaning literally shoot me, but metaphorically.   I cried on the way to my sisters house yesterday, on my way to celebrate my dads 87th birthday, realizing that my adoptive family has no clue who I am, how I feel, or what has really happened to me.  They dont really care, because they refuse to look it straight in the eye.  Admit to what has been said and done, their refusal makes them weak and because I have fought so hard, I am the strongest.  

They can keep shooting me down, but  I wont fall, dont they get it?  They cant destroy me, but they have  tried, I am too strong for all of them.   I will keep getting up, and I will continue to sort through what has happened so I can continue to be strong.  

Adoption, a word spoken so freely.  People hear that word and immediately they think  its good, warm and fuzzy, fairy tale worthy.  Does anyone really know what its like when adoption is not a success?   Do they know the truth of how it feels to be  abandoned by my supposed mothers, both birth and adoptive, again and again. Do they understand that even a woman, grown with her own grown children is still sitting here today typing to get her feelings out onto this blog so she can pull herself together after a family get together that has left her exhausted.  Do they know what its like growing up, wondering where these amazing people that loved me so much they gave me away, are?  Having a sister that was not adopted and seeing the differences that are nobodys fault, yet still hard to experience even as an adult.  Realizing that as an adoptee you will never have that feeling with anyone except your own children if you choose to have them.  That special bond, that a lot of adoptees miss out on with both mothers.  

As hard as this is to admit, it will be as hard to explain.  Im just now beginning to like myself.    My entire life has been searching, understanding, sorting, forgiving and accepting to finally be able to look in the mirror and see me.   I have not recognized myself in the past, thought myself to look and be someone different than I am.  I am guessing that is part of the fantasy I created, but its like looking in the mirror for 48 years, and seeing the back of someone's head.  Not really seeing into myself, or recognizing who I am.  I know I have always been strong, that I remember, but somehow through this process of adoption and life, I created some person I dont recognize in the mirror.  Maybe its the process of acceptance, that I will not have what I had hoped and dreamed of having for so many years.  Part of this fantasy, or maybe its just hope, that one day you wake up, and everything is OK, these feelings inside are gone.  Everyone is in sync.  It was all just a bad dream, and I woke up realizing I am just me, regardless of where I came from.