Adoption Luck

I love when I stumble across a random internet post and it stirs something up inside me.

This post I linked to below resonated with me.  Consider it a possible HOLY SHIT THAT MAKES SENSE AHA KIND OF MOMENT. Early in reunion my daughter permitted me to send her gifts yet would later rail against them. She would angrily lecture me on reciprocity and how me giving her a gift implied she owed me something, made her uncomfortable, etc. It always struck me as odd as I felt “No, I do not give to get, I merely wanted to give you a gift, all you have to do is say thank you”. But even expresing thank you (forced gratitude?) was hard for her. It was a real hang up for her. Eventually she began refusing my gifts, asked me never to contact her, do not send me things . The adoptee written post and in particular the paragraph I excerpted below gives me some insight into some possible reasons for her reactions.   I do not know for sure of course, but I do appreciate the author giving me a new perspective. To fully understand the context of the below excerpt, you must read the entire post. It is worth the read.

“Adoption has such a huge effect on how I see gifts now. If I am given anything, and then it is taken away, I go into meltdown. If I am expected to be grateful for anything, I would rather not have it. I don’t want to feel in debt. I find it hard even to write the word grateful in an email. I feel both overly thankful for any offer, for any help, and yet extremely stressed out about having to pay it back. I want to leave no loose ends. I don’t like writing thank-you cards. I don’t like it when someone buys dinner and expects a future meal in return.” – Mathew Salesses

More on this topic at the linked post below.

“I never asked for this”: On Adoption, Luck, and Thankfulness

Cosmic Treasures (or Not)

This past week has been a strange one for me. A number of incidents occurred that I can only chalk up to the universe giving me yet another good old adoption bonk on the head. Consider the following.

I Heard Her Voice

My daughter posted not one, but two, YouTube videos to her public twitter feed. Naturally I listened and within a matter of moments was in tears. She was acting silly with coworkers. I heard her voice clearly, saw her mannerisms, how she sounds and moves her body. It was a bit overwhelming to say the least. Overall? Bittersweet. I appreciated the opportunity to hear and see her but oh, my, did it send me spiraling backwards for a few days.

(This is the moment where the adoption trolls usually come out and tell me I am violating my daughters’ privacy by watching her twitter feed. I disagree. If she puts it public for the entire world to see, I have free reign to watch it as well, so go away, trolls).

P.S. She has a really nice voice.

P.P.S.I HEARD MY DAUGHTERS VOICE!

If He Had Married Me

I left my employer of eight years two weeks ago. I started at a new employer, doing similar work but in a completely new industry. Imagine my surprise on the second day when I hear the receptionist page Suzan [Birthfathers Last Name].

Yes, I now work with someone named the exact same name I would have had if my daughters father chose to marry me in 1985 instead of, well, not marrying me.

Well Meaning Friends

My 30 year high school reunion is coming up this weekend. The invite went out via Facebook and there was an associated group. This means I can now see names/profiles of former high school classmates and they can see me even if we are not Facebook friends. I perused the list and also the ticket sale site to see who was going. I was pleased to learn a friend (now a resident of Florida) will be in attendance. Seeing her name on the reunion page reminded me of what must have been our 20 year reunion. I found my daughter just before that reunion and I had a line put in the reunion program directed to that friend. It simply said friend’s name, followed by I FOUND HER! I was so excited back then. I was so hopeful, so happy, so wanting to share my daughter with the world that had denied her. I knew friend would understand the message. She did. In fact, the instant she read it she sought me out and we hugged and cried.

Ten years later and I am pretty much in the same place. I found her – that’s about it.

(I am still going to hug that friend this coming weekend when I see her. )

Uncertain on Meaning Friends

Earlier today, one of those reunion “friends” took it up themselves to send me a link to my daughters’ fathers’ Facebook page. The message said “did you know he was on Facebook?”.

Ugh. Jesus H. No. Why would I?

Why was friend looking (birthfather did not go to my high school and is not going to our reunion) and why did friend feel it necessary to share with me?

I responded and stated “No, I did not know”. I had nothing more to say. To me it felt vaguely like rubbing a dog’s nose in their own accident. It felt callous and mean.

But perhaps I am overly sensitive.

(Yes, I looked at his profile. ‘Nuff said.)

 

 

 

 

Living Dual Lives

Mothers Jane and Lorraine over at First Mother Forum have a most excellent post today regarding the dual lives lived by mothers like me, them and possibly even you. I encourage you to read it. Link and abstract below.

Natural Mothers Dual Lives
“Yet the truth is, all of us who lost a child to adoption also have a separate life inside adoption. For many of us it was for years a secret life, existing only in our memories and imagination. Eventually the secret became impatient to be free and we reunited with our lost child and introduced her to our families.” – First Mother Forum

The post reminded me of my own duality. It has decreased since I found my daughter. It has also been helped by the fact I divorced a man that was ashamed of me and married one that openly claimed me. Acceptance is an incredible healing aid.

Pondering the FMF post and my own life lead me to thoughts about this blog. My daughter has only been here once, maybe twice, that I know of. Early in reunion she told me she stopped by and it “made her puke”. In those days I used to check stats regularly hoping I would see her here. While I saw her adoptive parents a few times, I never saw her. That may be a good thing or a bad thing.

This blog is the only “public” exposure my daughter may have to me since she has no desire to know me. I will admit it concerns me that she may have formed a one sided view of me. As mentioned in Jane and Lorraine post, adoption trauma, activism, is indeed a large part of me. However, it is not all of me.

This blog may give her, and others, the impression I am a basket case clutching a snot rag and grasping for walls.

I am not.

I am so much more.

I wish she could know that.