Writing without Sharing

[dropcap]M[/dropcap]other and Open Adoption blogger, Jenna, poses some interesting questions in her recent post On Tweens, Teens, Adoption, and Parent Blogging.

Resonated with me as one of the reasons my blogging became stale over the years is I did not know how to bridge the gap between my story and my daughters story. Every adoption blogger knows (well, at least every first mother one) sharing their child’s story is against The Rules. How do I say how I feel about something if I am not allowed to say what triggered that feeling? I could not figure it out so I stoppped writing as prolifically as I once did.

As I mentioned in Jenna’s post, I went looking for guidance on this. I joined memoir groups, an in person writing group, I read the books and blogs of others. Despite my thinking I was a reasoanbly skilled writer, I could not figure how to accomplish the goal. My story and hers are intertwined (much to her chagrin). I resolved myself to the idea that either a) I am not capable of doing so or b) it is not time for me to do so.

Read Jenna’s post at her blog. If you have any thoughts on how to write/get support without violating the sacred rule of sharing another persons story, share that below.

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.

Maybe?

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.

Happening for a Reason

Stumbled across a superb posting  on grief today. Hat tip to Susie.

So much to chew on here.

“Some things in life cannot be fixed. They can only be carried. “

“There’s a lot of “take responsibility” platitudes in the personal development space, and they are largely nonsense. People tell others to take responsibility when they don’t want to understand.”

“Because understanding is harder than posturing. Telling someone to “take responsibility” for their loss is a form of benevolent masturbation. It’s the inverse of inspirational porn: it’s sanctimonious porn.”

“Personal responsibility implies that there’s something to take responsibility for. You don’t take responsibility for being raped or losing your child. You take responsibility for how you choose to live in the wake of the horrors that confront you, but you don’t choose whether you grieve. We’re not that smart or powerful. When hell visits us, we don’t get to escape grieving.”

“So if anyone tells you some form of get over it, move on, or rise above, let them go.”

All quotes from the post Everything Does Not Happen for a Reason. I recommend you read it.