5 Year Anniversary

Five years ago today I received an email from my daughter for the first time.

Five years ago today she wrote me back.

Not much has changed in the five years.

Least not in relation to our reunion.

I don’t hear from her anymore, not that I ever heard much.

I don’t check on her as much these days.

I have put away some hopes, got rid of a heart load of expectations, and learned a great deal about myself.

I have ceased trying to “normalize” my adoption experience with others around me and my subsequent children. I have put her pictures away and have ceased regularly sharing her status with my sons.

I no longer have contact with her father. (I did for the first few years following reunion).

I no longer make care packages or get excited for holidays and the possibility of sending her a gift.

I ceased making my life plans with her in the side car.  I drive ahead alone and I am doing okay with that.

Well, sort of.

I am still working through a great deal. There are still triggers. Dark periods can creep up on me and I battle them as best I can. As my old posts (see below) say, I still get sad, almost daily. I feel conflicted, angry, confused, lost and more.  Yet I carry on.  I must.  I may never have her in my life. I will always have me. I must take care of me and those that are in my life.

I reread some old anniversary posts.  I find them interesting. They naturally make me cry.  Still, I read and still I find them oddly fascinating.  The more things change the more they stay the same.  I have the first two years offloaded to a file. I was on a different blogging platform then and in fact, did not even share my reunion publicly. I did that on LiveJournal with a few select friends. Now THAT is an interesting blog to read. I do have the last three years here and well, now, year five.

I wont say much more. I would be repeating myself.

But I will say what I always say. I wont say it to her of course. But I will capture it here.

Happy Anniversary M. I love you and miss you.

13 Thoughts.

  1. Suz,

    I feel compelled to read all of your anniversary blogs. I’m so sorry for your heartbreak. I am crying as I read all of your post, partly for you and partly for me. My story is a little different than yours, but I recognize your pain.

    Buf for the details, I could have written all of these posts, even as I had contact with my children and grandchildren over the past 3 and 1/2 years. As you said, in an earlier anniversary post, it is hard to want to mother someone who chooses not to acknowledge that you are their mother.

    You are a strong woman,Suz. I am happy to see that you have not let this heart break harden your heart. Sending you giant, snuggly Lizard hug

  2. Suz, I continue to marvel at the clear eye with which you look at your reunion, the honesty with which you acknowledge your sorrow, and the strength with which you live your life.

    Deep bow to you. And huge (((((((hugs))))))).

  3. I’m so sorry Suz. I am sending hugs & healing wishes your way.

    This sounds selfish ~ but I’m glad that you use this blog to help you carry on. Reading your eloquent words, helps me deal with my adoption journey. You have such a gift ~ putting your heart & soul into written words that touch so many. I hope someday you find that your words also touched your daughter.


  4. ‘I have ceased trying to “normalize” my adoption experience with others around me and my subsequent children. ‘

    Do you mind elaborating on this statement? I’m not sure I understand what it means to “normalize” one’s adoption experience. I have an idea what you’re getting at, but I’m mostly speculating.

  5. Suz,

    You and I sort of move in different circles, and our experiences are basically on the opposite side of the spectrum, but I always feel drawn to you because I see a lot of parallels between myself and y0ur daughter. Age wise, region wise, and attitude wise. When I first read this post, my immediate thought was, ” Sometimes life doesn’t seem very fair.” How do two people fix things when half of the equation doesn’t see that anything is broken?

    I wish you peace today, and hope you can find comfort and happiness (as I’m sure you do) in your family. I suspect that your daughter will come around. Something in me just thinks so. But until that day, I hope you can find a way to mend things on your end.

    Hugs today,

  6. I remember when my anniversaries of reunion were happy ones… once upon a time.

    Keep counting, Suz. My gut tells me that one of these years, it’ll be different for you and M.


  7. Suz….I’m basically where you are with my relationship with my daughter. I’m looking after me too.

    • FindingMaddy – I believe, for once in our lives, we must do that. For adoption taught us that the church, the adoptive parents, our parents, our child, everyone and everyone but us was more important. We need to find us. We need to care for the girl in side us no one cared about. Hugs to you and yours.

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