: ( – Me
Over the weekend, a friend and fellow first mom (in reunion, surrendered her child to Easter House), scheduled a Facebook Event for all her friends to come and meet “her girl”. While I was not invited the event showed up on my newsfeed and I clicked “like” to let my friend know that I was happy to see her scheduling an event for all her friends to come meet her daughter.
Friend immediately messaged me and apologized for not inviting me (she lives one town over from me and I assisted in her search). She stated that she was trying to spare my feelings and not, well, you know, rub her good reunion in my bad reunion face. (My translation). She told me I was more than welcome and asked that I consider coming.
I am not going. I wrote her back and told her I understood her intent, was not the least bit offended, there was no need to apologize and in fact, I appreciated her considering my feelings.
She is correct in her assumptions.
While I am happy for her and her daughter, I am generally not able to stand by and watch others goo over their reunions without feeling a bit pained and confused and angsty over mine. I try hard not to feel sorry for myself. I do. I try to say this situation is my daughters choosing, not mine, and that it is not a reflection of me as a person. I try to remind myself that I am good person, a great mother, and yet many times, I fail.
Sometimes the pain is just too much. Sometimes I get weepy and angry and envious. Sometimes I want to scream and stomp my foot and shake my fist at the sky and demand an answer to the question.
Why did the 50+ reunions that I personally facilitated end in meeting and working on relationships and healing and yet mine is stone cold? What did I do wrong?
Yes, I get petty and jealous and angry and sad and weepy and I feel sorry for myself.
Most times, I hide it well. I can stay in my higher level thinking place and rationalize and explain it all. I can quote Verrier, and Lifton and any number of wise adoptee bloggers and I understand. Its okay. I’m good.
And yet, sometimes, I am just petty.
Sometimes, I am just human.
And sometimes, I just really cannot stand to watch others gush over their reunions.
I would rather stick a fork in my eye.