Coming Clean

: ( – 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.

8 Thoughts.

  1. Pingback: Mothers

  2. Suz, I have no great insights here, no words per se, just hugs, kisses & my continued love & support..

  3. Yup, you’re human and get upset and hurt by petty things. I’ll happily sign up to be in that club too, because that’s the story of much of the last week or so for me. Your situation isn’t fair and it does suck, but I think it speaks so well of you that you’re self-aware about it and you still do help facilitate reunions even though you are always gong to get that nagging hurt when others get what you don’t. But yeah, blech. It sounds like you made the decision by “liking” the event but not attending.

  4. You have a great way of putting into words, just how all this adoption / reunion stuff feels. I to try to remind myself that I am a good person, a great mother, and yet many times I fail as well. I have in fact spent most of my adult life feeling that I am just not good enough, adoption / relinquishment messes with your head and hurts your heart beyond explanation.

  5. Yeah. Reunion sucks @ss, a lot of the time.

    I wish it were easier. For you. For me. For everyone involved…

    It’s difficult…most of the time. And, I’d hazard to guess that even though it may ‘appear’ to be not so difficult for some…it really is. I truly believe…that reunion, for the most part…IS difficult on all. I would bet that the percentage of crap reunions would fall in our favour.

    (I completely just burst into tears after typing that.)

    Hang in there pretty woman.

  6. I know well the feeling of “why are so many other reunions good and not mine?” The black beast of jealousy gnawing, the desire to not hear any more happy stories. I was pretty much rejected for almost 20 years from first contact, and I HATED it when people said “He’ll come around some day”. I thought, “oh, really, do you have a crystal ball?”

    I have no crystal ball and no idea what will happen with your daughter, and I know mothers whose kids have not come around after 30 years or more. But my son did start communicating with me, and while our relationship has been email only with one in person meeting followed again by several years of silence, then resumed email, it is more than I ever expected. It is a relationship that moves with glacial slowness, but at least it is finally moving. My son is now 41.

    I see this as a small miracle. But after so many years there are also scars. Anyhow, I feel for you, I hope your daughter eventually has a change of heart. None of this is easy.

  7. Hi Suz–
    I can so empathize, having my EH birthparent reject me as she did was like being rejected for the second time. I had nightmares and crying spells, finally it is working itself out but I’m still oh so sad. I wish that she was like you. My birthmother never searched for me and would have probably have been happier had never found her. I might as well be dead, I’m sure if I pass before her she’ll rejoice in whatever little corner of the world she lives in, that is if she bothers to find out. It’s why I have so much trouble understanding why in the world your daughter wouldn’t want to at least meet for tea or send the occasional email, it’s not like you’re asking a great deal of her. Well, I hope your daughter comes around.

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