"Not only is another world possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing." – Arundhati Roy
I spoke with a Mom friend today. A dear friend, recently in reunion, a reunion I assisted with. During our discussions of the various states of our reunions she said to me:
"I have accepted that I will never have the kind of relationship with my child that many of our other friends in reunion have with theirs."
Has she really accepted that? So soon? Can you accept that?
Should she accept that?
And if you do, if you truly believe you will never have X don’t you end up someway making sure you don’t? Can that line of thinking become a self fulfilling prophecy?
I urged my friend to think a bit deeper about that. It is early in her reunion. She might be surprised.
I challenged her partly for her benefit and partly for my own.
Why does it really matter?
Negativism attracts negative things. Have you noticed how easy it is to get sucked into negative morale at the office? How listening to someone bitch and complain makes you feel sick or uneasy and perhaps even provokes your own complaints?
My life is fulfilling the predictions I embrace. Will they be the
negative messages, or will I choose to live out the positive ones and
be happy, successful, believe that my daughter does care about me and want to know me? It is an intentional decision on my part to ignore
or overwrite negative messages, and a deliberate stance to take on life
As challenging as my lukewarm reunion has been with my daughter, I have never given up hope. I feel, deep in my core, that given time, maturity, freedom from the power of her adoptive parents and many other things, that my daughter and I can and will have a relationship. That fact has never ever left me. I have faith in her. I have faith in me. I know how strong of a person I am. I know how caring, consideriate, educated, self aware, adoptee considerate. I am 100% confident that if and when she gives me that chance, we will be okay. I know she will like me. She is just afraid to.
Will we be mother and daughter in the traditional sense?
I did not raise her. She doesn’t look to me for those type of motherly things. I don’t expect her too. I did not wipe the boogars, change the nappies, bandage the skinned knees. As much as I may have wanted to, I didn’t. She will not innately look to me for comfort or direction or assistance.
But she is my daughter. And I am her mother. And I believe in her. I believe in me.
I do believe, with time, we will have a close relationship.
I have not given up hope. I have never felt anything different. It is that driving force, the fire in the pit of my stomach that pushes me forward. That helps me when I feel ignored by her, abused, and neglected. I know what is there. I know what is waiting for both of us. She doesn’t. I remember what it was like to hold her. She has no conscious memory of me.
Even if no one else believed in the value of our mother child bond, I do and always did. It just took me a while to really articulate that and act on it. Now that I have, I am not going back.
I do believe.
She and I can define our relationship and with time and her own emotional maturity, I do believe we will.
A new day dawns every day and some day that daily sun will shine on us.
Of that I am sure.