Cosmic Treasures (or Not)

This past week has been a strange one for me. A number of incidents occurred that I can only chalk up to the universe giving me yet another good old adoption bonk on the head. Consider the following.

I Heard Her Voice

My daughter posted not one, but two, YouTube videos to her public twitter feed. Naturally I listened and within a matter of moments was in tears. She was acting silly with coworkers. I heard her voice clearly, saw her mannerisms, how she sounds and moves her body. It was a bit overwhelming to say the least. Overall? Bittersweet. I appreciated the opportunity to hear and see her but oh, my, did it send me spiraling backwards for a few days.

(This is the moment where the adoption trolls usually come out and tell me I am violating my daughters’ privacy by watching her twitter feed. I disagree. If she puts it public for the entire world to see, I have free reign to watch it as well, so go away, trolls).

P.S. She has a really nice voice.


If He Had Married Me

I left my employer of eight years two weeks ago. I started at a new employer, doing similar work but in a completely new industry. Imagine my surprise on the second day when I hear the receptionist page Suzan [Birthfathers Last Name].

Yes, I now work with someone named the exact same name I would have had if my daughters father chose to marry me in 1985 instead of, well, not marrying me.

Well Meaning Friends

My 30 year high school reunion is coming up this weekend. The invite went out via Facebook and there was an associated group. This means I can now see names/profiles of former high school classmates and they can see me even if we are not Facebook friends. I perused the list and also the ticket sale site to see who was going. I was pleased to learn a friend (now a resident of Florida) will be in attendance. Seeing her name on the reunion page reminded me of what must have been our 20 year reunion. I found my daughter just before that reunion and I had a line put in the reunion program directed to that friend. It simply said friend’s name, followed by I FOUND HER! I was so excited back then. I was so hopeful, so happy, so wanting to share my daughter with the world that had denied her. I knew friend would understand the message. She did. In fact, the instant she read it she sought me out and we hugged and cried.

Ten years later and I am pretty much in the same place. I found her – that’s about it.

(I am still going to hug that friend this coming weekend when I see her. )

Uncertain on Meaning Friends

Earlier today, one of those reunion “friends” took it up themselves to send me a link to my daughters’ fathers’ Facebook page. The message said “did you know he was on Facebook?”.

Ugh. Jesus H. No. Why would I?

Why was friend looking (birthfather did not go to my high school and is not going to our reunion) and why did friend feel it necessary to share with me?

I responded and stated “No, I did not know”. I had nothing more to say. To me it felt vaguely like rubbing a dog’s nose in their own accident. It felt callous and mean.

But perhaps I am overly sensitive.

(Yes, I looked at his profile. ‘Nuff said.)





The Giver Series

A week or so ago I decided to pick up the The Giver series of books wrtten by Lois Lowry. I had no advance knowledge of the YA books or the author. Somewhere, likely on Facebook, I stumbled across The Giver movie and read it was about dystopian/utopian society. I find such stories interesting. I purchased the full set.

Imagine my surprise to learn of the child redistribution, birthmothers, supressing sexual desire and emotion, adoption and related themes woven through the first and fourth book.

Have you read? Here are two snippets. The first from The Giver and the second from Son. The opening to Son is pretty powerful and may very well be triggering for some mothers. Consider yourself warned and to approach with caution – despite this being a YA book.

From The Giver by Lois Lowry. No honor in being a birthmother.
From The Giver by Lois Lowry. No honor in being a birthmother.
Opening page to Son by Lois Lowry
Opening page to Son by Lois Lowry.  Click for larger view.

Meet Megan Devine

I have been devouring Megan Devine lately. I want to share her with you.

Mothers who have lost children to adoption, who grieve today despite losing their child over 30 years ago, and even those who lost their child yesterday may find something good here.

I am surprised with how much Megan’s views have touched me. I am 30 years post the forced surrender of my child. I have had years and years of therapy. I found her. I had other children. I have a good life and good job and yet still, daily, hourly, every second of the day I am find myself sad about the loss of her and her rejection of reunion. These days I feel I am grieving more the loss of reunion than I am the loss of her.


I am not sure. It might be both.

I believe I am okay and then events transpire that send me spiraling back into the abyss of pain and loss and I realize I am not as okay as I thought.

Megan Devine is the latest balm to soothe me. Her words assure me that it okay to not be okay with my daughters adoption, her refusal to know me. It is okay to still be sad thirty years later. Megan’s writing validates my personal belief that I will never be okay with the loss of my daughter. I will never be “healed” (least not in the way others in adoption want me to be).  And as Megan says, that is okay.
There is nothing wrong with me or my ability to function as a contributing member of society merely because I am sad every day over the loss of my child.

Some thoughts from Megan Devine:

“When you hear the pain of the world, it’s not a call to overcome it – it’s not a call to overcome anything. When you hear the pain of the world, it’s a call to love.”

“Why is it that when we speak the truth about what hurts, we’re deemed angry or too negative or not evolved enough?”

“Pain deserves acknowledgement, not repair. We need to start telling new stories about bravery in the face of pain that can’t be fixed.”

“We don’t need new tools for how to get out of grief, we need to learn the skills for how to withstand it. We need to learn to bear witness.”

“The path of bearing witness is the true path of love. You are not helpless in the face of someone’s pain. Hearing someone’s pain and letting them have it is an amazing gift.”

Read more of Megan Devine at her blog Refuge in Grief or watch her video on Vimeo.