My husband drove me to my parents house late tonight. Since my accident a few weeks ago I'm still scared to drive the crazy freeway.
My mom is going in for an angiogram, she may need a stent or if that is not possible, open heart surgery. She is not planning on that, so I don't know what is going to happen.
My sister cannot get here until tomorrow night, so I came early so she is not alone the day before the procedure.
My last visit was hell, no nice way to put it. I stayed up 3 nights in a row to get the real picture of what is going on here when my sister and I are not around. My sister doesn't spend the night, she comes for a visit during the day. Although she did spend the night for the first time in a long time, last week.
So we decide to go to bed , mom comes into the room and tells me she cleaned off the other bed, and not to sleep in the bed I always sleep in when I come here. Mind you I'm here all the time, and I stay days at a time. I'm at a loss for words. She tells me no, that is my sisters bed, you sleep in this one.
Now this sounds trivial to a lot of people out there, Im sure! So...I stay here days on end on a regular basis, my sister stays one time and I don't get to sleep in the same bed I always sleep in? And this is the bed with the mattress topper!
OK, whatever. I text my husband, and tell him what mom said. He always knows how to get me out of this funk. He responds by saying, "Thats because your just a number." I laughed to myself. And responded to him, "Yep, your right." His response sounds mean, but its not. Its dreadfully true. My adoption papers all state baby girl #, no name, and so that is our inside joke. I am not a real daughter, just a number, a purchase of theirs. Basically, I do not count. That is how he jolts me out of this la-la land of wanting a good mom, and to not feel sad, etc.
So I sit here, on top of my bed at my parents house typing this blog. In the dark, as I plan on sleeping on top of this bed, not to dirty my sisters sheets! Wow, what a punch in the gut. Who are they kidding, and how much can a person take. I am very glad I brought 2 bottles of wine to soften the blows from mom this week, maybe I will sleep and not lay awake wondering why I'm here, away from my family, trying to help a woman that really doesn't care or think very highly of me or even want me here.
Adoption will never work for me. And I know that I will have to make peace with this mess and somehow be a better person and not get all choked up and feel like I've shrunk back to age 10!!! I have to be the better person, take care of people that don't care for me. Its tough, but has to be done, with character, and kindness. Its a big test, and I have to pass this one. Maybe that is why I have been put here, in this situation, with these people?
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Monday, April 13, 2015
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.
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.
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
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.
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.
Saturday, February 14, 2015
its important to examine the past
My birth mom found me when I was 19, in November of 1984. She contacted my mom and talked to her first. I was not living at home at the time.
My parents anniversary is in November as well.
This same year, in November of 1984 was also the last time my dad physically hit me.
It wasn't until just recently I realized why he had this huge blowout, meltdown, and came charging down the hall and punched me in the face, twice.
I had no idea why he did this, he and mom had been shopping for antiques that day. Came home and I showed up and next thing I know, dad is running down the hall and I'm almost knocked out.
He must have gone {more] crazy that she had found me and there was an upcoming reunion?
We met the next month, in December and my dad was trying to fix up the house, he actually put up the shutters on the outside of the house he had previously taken down in one of his paranoid rages. I guess at the time, being 19, I did not give it much thought. But for him to do this, meant he wanted to make a good impression, and the house looked so bad from him ripping out all of the plants in our front yard, putting up security bars on every window and taking down the cute shutters around the windows.
HUGE LIGHT WENT OFF IN MY HEAD when I realized the timing of my dads blowup. Here I was, just a kid and I was expected to endure this man cold cocking me in the face twice while sitting down, and expected to know why! Nothing had happened, that I could think of, we hadn't even spoke that day! If he really was upset about my birth mom finding me, why didn't he just sit down and say he was upset, or worried or something? And for heavens sake, why was he upset anyhow? This is the same man that would tell me to stay away from his daughter (my sister) saying that I was not his daughter, while pushing me aside. He didn't give a darn how I felt, obviously not even after birth mom found me. Just about knocking me out, at the time and for all these years I thought he did this because of his hatred towards me.
I got up from my chair, pushed him as hard as I could, I was stunned, and he was pretty heavy at the time and I was a mere size 2 if that. I went storming for the telephone. I screamed, that I was calling the police and having him arrested. Mom started crying, saying it was her anniversary, and she didn't want dad to go to jail. I screamed out loud, that he would never hit me again, this was the last time. And I meant it. Its funny in those days we had the home phone on a super long cord so you could walk around the house with it and talk. I remember pacing around with the phone in my hand, ready to dial the police.
Amazing I ever spoke to him again, writing this blog it amazes me that I continued to act out the motions of being the daughter and sister in this family. Mom even lied about it happening after the fact, made it out to be something different than it really was. All I knew was that I got punched, while sitting down at the kitchen table, looking at antiques mom had just bought. There was no way of changing this story into something different!
Whats sick is, mom probably knows why it happened to begin with. She lived with him, and I guarantee he was spouting off at the mouth about my birth mom coming to meet us. No way was he quiet about it, just not his style.
During our reunion time I had driven down to the Orange County area to see the birth families on my own, after the initial meeting with my birth mom & full brother at my parents house. My dad had screamed at me to never talk to him again, that basically I could change my name and take theirs and never have anything to do with him again. He was fine with this. As though it was all my fault they chose adoption.
It amazes me, that it has taken all these years to figure this out. This November it will be 31 years since this happened! I'd like to say that none of this matters, but that would be sweeping it under the carpet and allowing it to build and build until one day it would come busting out of the seams. Really understanding and believing that I was and still am a good girl, a nice girl, is important to me. For years I thought I was seriously defective, a bad girl, and that it was my fault that neither of my parents loved or cared about me.
I cannot tell you what a revelation it was figuring this out. I bet there are many other incidents in my life, like this I have yet to figure out.
My parents anniversary is in November as well.
This same year, in November of 1984 was also the last time my dad physically hit me.
It wasn't until just recently I realized why he had this huge blowout, meltdown, and came charging down the hall and punched me in the face, twice.
I had no idea why he did this, he and mom had been shopping for antiques that day. Came home and I showed up and next thing I know, dad is running down the hall and I'm almost knocked out.
He must have gone {more] crazy that she had found me and there was an upcoming reunion?
We met the next month, in December and my dad was trying to fix up the house, he actually put up the shutters on the outside of the house he had previously taken down in one of his paranoid rages. I guess at the time, being 19, I did not give it much thought. But for him to do this, meant he wanted to make a good impression, and the house looked so bad from him ripping out all of the plants in our front yard, putting up security bars on every window and taking down the cute shutters around the windows.
HUGE LIGHT WENT OFF IN MY HEAD when I realized the timing of my dads blowup. Here I was, just a kid and I was expected to endure this man cold cocking me in the face twice while sitting down, and expected to know why! Nothing had happened, that I could think of, we hadn't even spoke that day! If he really was upset about my birth mom finding me, why didn't he just sit down and say he was upset, or worried or something? And for heavens sake, why was he upset anyhow? This is the same man that would tell me to stay away from his daughter (my sister) saying that I was not his daughter, while pushing me aside. He didn't give a darn how I felt, obviously not even after birth mom found me. Just about knocking me out, at the time and for all these years I thought he did this because of his hatred towards me.
I got up from my chair, pushed him as hard as I could, I was stunned, and he was pretty heavy at the time and I was a mere size 2 if that. I went storming for the telephone. I screamed, that I was calling the police and having him arrested. Mom started crying, saying it was her anniversary, and she didn't want dad to go to jail. I screamed out loud, that he would never hit me again, this was the last time. And I meant it. Its funny in those days we had the home phone on a super long cord so you could walk around the house with it and talk. I remember pacing around with the phone in my hand, ready to dial the police.
Amazing I ever spoke to him again, writing this blog it amazes me that I continued to act out the motions of being the daughter and sister in this family. Mom even lied about it happening after the fact, made it out to be something different than it really was. All I knew was that I got punched, while sitting down at the kitchen table, looking at antiques mom had just bought. There was no way of changing this story into something different!
Whats sick is, mom probably knows why it happened to begin with. She lived with him, and I guarantee he was spouting off at the mouth about my birth mom coming to meet us. No way was he quiet about it, just not his style.
During our reunion time I had driven down to the Orange County area to see the birth families on my own, after the initial meeting with my birth mom & full brother at my parents house. My dad had screamed at me to never talk to him again, that basically I could change my name and take theirs and never have anything to do with him again. He was fine with this. As though it was all my fault they chose adoption.
It amazes me, that it has taken all these years to figure this out. This November it will be 31 years since this happened! I'd like to say that none of this matters, but that would be sweeping it under the carpet and allowing it to build and build until one day it would come busting out of the seams. Really understanding and believing that I was and still am a good girl, a nice girl, is important to me. For years I thought I was seriously defective, a bad girl, and that it was my fault that neither of my parents loved or cared about me.
I cannot tell you what a revelation it was figuring this out. I bet there are many other incidents in my life, like this I have yet to figure out.
Sunday, February 8, 2015
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?
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?
Sunday, January 25, 2015
"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!
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!
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
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?
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?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)