Welcome to my thoughts on Adoption. To get the full effect, start from the bottom and work your way up.
My birthday has come and gone. Had a pretty good one, got three dinners out of it and some cool gifts.
Tonight, as I was going to bed, I followed the same ritual I have for the last few nights. Read for a bit, brush my teeth, the go into Scotty's room and sit starting at him for a bit. Sometimes, I will just feel such love for this kid other times, I want to cry. I don't know the true reason yet why, it's just a pain inside.
I sometimes get angry or annoyed with him when he hasn't done anything major wrong. Sometimes its just the little things like telling him to go brush his teeth and he sort of heads that way, but is playing all the way to the bathroom, bouncing off walls and people. Today I snapped at him about it and reminded him that he needs to do what we say when we say it. While this is true, I should have been a bit easier. I don't know why it bothers me so much.
Some people at work mentioned that he seems so filled with joy and as I think about it, he really does. Maybe I'm jelous of this child who is filled with happiness? Who is being raised by his blood? Who has a chance to know his blood? I don't know. Is it just the anger inside boiling over? I just know I need to change it. I love my son and need him. He's the only blood I know.
I hate birthdays. Okay, that's not exactly true.I am strongly opposed to the constant reminder of not knowing my roots. I was really hoping that Kinsolving would have gotten some information before my birthday, but looks like a no go. Even if they call tomorrow, there is no way to get it all processed and to me.
Unfortunately, I have been slowly shutting down over the last two months. It was really hurting Brenda. I told her what was bothering me and apologized for being the way I've been. I need to try harder for her and for us.
Another week and it's my birthday. I've kind of got mixed feelings. Normally, I get a little depressed around it. I wish I could get results back from Kinsolving before hand, but probably not.
Scotty did pretty good while Brenda was gone. He had a bit of a fit on the first night but after that he was okay, other than asking for her. Still though, I was glad when she came home. I really missed her.
Not a lot going on. Okay, that's a lie, there is a lot going on.
Kinsolving says nothing at the moment but it could take almost a year. Great, at least I don't have to pay until the find.
Brenda and I had a pretty good weekend. We went to Santa Monica pier for the evening.
Brenda is also leaving for Tahoe with Robin and Laura on Wednesday and will be gone till Saturday. I'm a little depressed about it but I'm more worried about Scott and Brenda. We told Scott today and he seemed okay with it (I made a little calendar so he could cross off the days.) Brenda seems a little worried that he will be really upset and she seems to be a bit worried that he won't. I'm not sure what to do. Hey, each day as it comes right?
Personal responsibility. A personal pet peeve of mine and one I need to work on as well. I'm having an issue at work with one of the managers who doesn't take responsibility for his actions or inactions. It's really bothering me, but that's not going to be the topic here though.
Since this is an adoption blog, it's going to be about the members of the adoption group (I personally don't like the term triad.)
There are quite a few adoptees I met who will say in one breath they have no adoption issues but in another they say that they aren't responsible for the mistakes they make because of adoption. Others will just blame all their problems on adoption, never taking responsibility for their own choices and mistakes. There are others, who just don't make any sort of connection and never try to heal. I should know, for a long time I was one of those.
Birthmoms, as well, need to take responsibility. I mentioned in a previous post how they need to accept the mistakes or choices they made. It's not just an intellectual understanding, it's an emotional understanding and that's the hardest one. The choices they made put the child into adoption, even if it was the smallest one. The choices led to a child being removed from their family, from their blood. Whether it was having sex in the first place, deciding to give up their child, whatever. I'm not saying they need to be full of guilt, or pay penance for the rest of their lives, in fact, just the opposite. I believe it can be healing for them to finally accept this emotionally, then move on. Easy? Nope. Necessary? Could be.
Having said all that, I need to take responsibility for me. I left my wife. This was one of the biggest mistakes in my life, and I'm the luckiest guy in the world that she took me back. I made the mistakes and I am going to try to make up for it. I believe that adoption and some of the issues I have are from adoption but they are my issues and my mistakes. I can't just brush it off, or just say all my problems are caused by adoption as my excuse. I made those choices, those mistakes. No matter what the underlying cause/reasons MIGHT have been there, I did it.
I've got a long way to go to make it up to Brenda. I have told her repeatedly, that I am sorry for what I put her thru, and I have tried to show her how much I love her and how much I owe her for giving me another chance. We both have a ways to go in improving our marriage and ourselves as well as setting the best example for Scotty, but we can do it together. For that chance, I owe her my deepest thanks.
Father's day. Another one of those Hallmark moments that usually suck when I think about my birthfather. I was starting to get a bit depressed while thinking of this last night. Brenda held me for a while and we just talked, it was really great.
This morning I awoke to Brenda telling me to stay in bed. A little while later Scotty and Brenda came in with a big bag and breakfast in bed. (bacon, eggs, and toast. so much for the triglycerides.) I got two hawaiian sport shirts and two tshirts as well as season three of the Dead Zone. All in all, a very good father's day.
Right now, Scotty is talking to my Dad to wish him a Happy Father's day. He is so funny. My turn is next so I will have to go.
What a day. I went to a doctor to get a physical and found out my triglycerides are WAY over, like so way over they can't read my LDL levels. My glucose is a little high as well, but not that bad for my height. The doctor has recommended so diet changes and put me on some medication. I go back in six weeks for a review then again in a few months. The worst part was that my risk factor for heart attack was pretty high as well. Brenda has promised to help me get this under control.
On the flip side, I finally caved and submitted my info to Kinsolving. They are a little expensive but you don't pay unless they get up to date results so that's a good thing. I'm excited about the prospect but a little nervous as well.
Another great therapy session. We atalked about the pain I feel, the sadness, the rejection. In some ways, I am feeling rejected again because that little child in me is realizing that I'm not going to get an email from my B-Uncle now that he knows I'm out here looking. I realized that I was hoping to see that email each time I started my computer.
I can feel tears even now just behind my eyes, tears that I automatically shut away. As we were talking during the session, I could feel the tears starting to come and the strange lump/hollowness of pain in my chest growing and just like that my body took over and clamped it down. It wasn't even a concious thought, it just happened. The numbness has become such a part of me now it's almost harder to feel strong emotions, although I'm getting there.
During the OC Adoptee group last Wednesday, we had a membe who isn't really part of the triad but had only recently found out he had a teenage daughter so he is going thru some of the emotions of reuniting. However, he made a comment that at the time got the hackles up of the other adoptees. He asked if when we reunite do the "issues" or feelings of pain and hollowness go away. He commented that during Viet Nam, if your buddy died, you couldn't dwell on it, you had to go on and put it behind you. My response was that while both were trauma there was a big difference. As an adult, you have a personality and history to draw strength from to get you thru that moment and have it just be another memory. For an adoptee, the trauma is the beginning of their life, the "kernel" of what later becomes their personality and can affect how they react to future events. Because it is so deep rooted, it isn't just going to go away or just be put behind you.
Now, I look back at his question and am actually glad he asked. It's good to have your beliefs challenged occasionally. I realized from what I said that some people will look at adoptees as trying to blame all the hardships or choices in their lives on being adopted which isn't the case. Granted, the adoptee is the victim in this since they are the only ones who had no choice in the matter. I'm saying limited choices or only bad choices, I mean NO choices. However, I won't be a victm, adoption isn't the cause of all my problems however it is a factor and one I am working on. It's a fine line, I know, but it's still a distinct line. Once you are aware of some of the core issues you are 100% responsible from then on.
Okay, enough for tonight.
Then again, I'm one of the lucky ones who didn't turn to drugs or alcohol. I escaped into books, tv and video games. Still not healthy but safer.
I have found a downside to all the healing. It's called feeling. I have found myself getting choked up as I am driving home thinking of Scott and worrying about his life and him while listening to the news or hearing a sorrowful music. Or while watching a TV program and seeing something bad happen to a child or to the parents of the children. I feel the pain just underneath but I can't let it go. It's such a part of me now and it hurts too much to feel it sometimes.
Brenda and Scott are in San Diego again. They are only gone overnight but I miss them both. I was trying to let Brenda know but she didn't understand. She made reference to when I left and how I didn't seem to mind them. She doesn't understand.
On a good note, Scott has been hanging out with me more. Some times he even chooses me over Brenda, much to her chagrin.He's been giving me more hugs and I check in on hiim and kiss him every night when he is asleep. In a way, it makes it harder but on the flip side it makes me feel happy as well. These emotion things are annoying. Guess I should have been born a Vulcan.
A new blog. Another adoptee I know has started a blog to list his feelings, thoughts, ideas, etc. Feel free to visit him here at: http://bulldog.typepad.com/cominghome/
I haven't really done much on the adoption front. Haven't really been thinking anything. I guess in a way, I have shut down to not feel the pain of knowing they are so close yet so far.
I went to CUB today, but just couldn't get into it. I was so angry while I sat there. I am kind of frustrated with the constant complaining of the birthmothers and how they had no choice. It's like they are trying to blame everyone else for giving us away. They use words like having the child torn from them, or ripped from their lives. I know they feel pain over it, but it is so annoying to hear. They had a choice. It may have not been a good choice or even one they truly felt they had but there was still a choice. Others, although rarely, kept their children and survived. Another annoying thing was how some of them were explaining how adoptees need to hear them say sorry or to take oownership for their choice even if they didn't feel it. Do they think adoptees can't feel that? It's just another lie.
By no means do all birthmoms do this, and there are varying levels as with anything. There are some who freely acknowledge this. I know this may seem wierd.I'm just in a wierd place.
I went to an adoptee only group in Santa Monica. It was really cool, however a few of the adoptees had been to CUB and couldn't stand it. As I was listening to them, I reealized I felt the same way, I just hadn't been truly honest about it. I would sometimes bite my toungue to not hurt them.
A lot has happened since I last wrote. The Children's Home Society has found my Uncle and his wife. From them, I have received updated medical information and a little bit of history. Anne from CHS talked with the wife a bit and apparently, I am not a secret. I am an only child. I was born in Orange Memorial Hospital. My birth mother apparently disappeared after my birth grandmother passed away. The family hasn't heard from her. Unfortunately, this means CHS can't put my Uncle and I in touch since I don't have my mommy's permission.
So close and yet so far. Using the roller coaster again, it's like I've come over the top, see the huge roller coaster spread out before me, and suddenly pull back in to the station, only to realize the rest of that fantastic track, was just a sham.
So now I search. I find every person I can with the approximate dates of my birthgrandmother and then track down obituaries to find some scrap, some small piece of the puzzle that is me.
As I was going thru the photos again, I came across several with me and a social worker on the day I became "legally" my parents. I felt such anger at this person, whom I don't really know. I don't know why. I also found a card my parents bought to announce my adoption which says, "I wasn't expected, I was selected." Okay, now I understand the whole "I wasn't expected" thing is alluding to a mother "expecting" a child, but .... it really hurts. See when I first read it, I heard, you weren't expected, you were an accident which is a possibility or actually a probability but you get the point.
I haven't been able to go back to the pictures much after that. I still can't remember anything about the incidents around those photos. Sometimes, I get little snippets, like movies playing off the frozen scene in the photo. It's so surreal though.
I am looking thru some photos my parents left for me back in December. These are photos of my childhood. I haven't been able to look at them, kept making excuses.
Now I know what amnesia feels like. I don't remember any of the photos or any of the times the photos were taken. It's so weird in a strange sort of way. I need to go play a video game. (Escape, me?)
This waiting is driving my mad. I feel like I made it thru the long twisty line, sat down in the car, had that bar come down and the roller coaster is slowly going up that first rise. You can hear the steady ratchet sound and in your mind you feel the thrill as you imagine the ride you are abut to go on, while at the same time, the fear that the track is missing just over that rise, where you can't see it.
I asked CHS to give me a copy of the letter, sans identifying info, that they sent to my bloodmom. I really wonder what it said. I really wonder whether I will get a copy. I really wonder if this is ever going to happen.
Is the end of this particular journey finally coming to a close? Can the past and my future be finally meeting? Late February, I got an email which said Children's Home Society had tracked my bloodmom July of 2001 but no one seemed to know where she went to. They were getting a new service so they would try again.
On March 9th, I recieved an email stating they had tracked her to January of 2005. A letter has been sent and they are awaiting a response. My first thought was, "she's alive." I have been so scared to find that she had passed away. Now, I don't know which scares me more, that she won't want to meet or that she will. Oh well, you have to face your fears head on. I jsut want to know though, that's the thought I need to hold on to no matter what. Knowledge is power.
I have been to two meetings for the Orange County Adoption Meetup Group. The first one was just Steve (the organizer) and myself. The second was just me. Oh well, it was a good meal. Hopefully it will grow. The first meeting was a blast though. Steve is reunited and was great person to talk with. I got to meet his daughter and wife as well, both very nice. Steve, however, doesn't want to be the organizer since he had several other groups he is responsible for so I have taken the position. Wish me luck.
Tommorrow is CUB. I am looking forward to it. I need it. I need to be surrounded by people who understand what I am going thru. Zara, (author of Chasing Away the Shadows) will be there with her birthmom who is visiting from England as well as her sister. She was very nervous about it last month so it should be interesting. She also shared some new music she recorded for a future album. Very good stuff. I have her first album as well. Many of the songs are about adoption and her mom. Makes me wonder if I should write a book too. Not to get published but just to get it out. I dont' know if I could though, even just writing this and I can feel my chest tightening and that familiar pain drifitng thru.
I need to rewrite my editorial. Maybe that can be expanded into a small book, then who knows. The future is fluid and exciting, and scary.
New update on search = zilch. I sent another email on the 2nd requesting an update. What I got was a note that said the person assigned to the search was out sick for the last week and won't be back till sometime next week. Oh yeah, they only work two days a week anyway, BUT they are possibly going to be maiking an offer to someone else so that should help the case load. I feel sooo much better knowing this.
I'm almost finished with "Primal Wound." It wasn't as hard to read as most people made it out to be, however I can see where it would be to someone who hasn't started the journey I've been on.
I may have found another adoptee group. Funny, my therapist had been telling me to start another support gorup for adoptees and here I found a guy who is starting just that about 4 miles from my job. Our first meeting is Wednesday. Hopefully, a few people will show up.
Okay, a month has gone by and still no call. I'm starting to get annoyed but I dno't know if I want to send an email since it is probably going to just be more annoying. At least if I don't know, I can always hope right? It would be so easier if they would just send the blasted original brith certificate and leave me alone. That alone would be worth the $400+ I sent. Sure would be nice if the laws changed on eof these days, but I don't think I will hold my breath just yet.
I sit here watching TV having just finished the Jutice League Unlimited (Awsome show, great episode although it's a two parter but the next one looks outstanding. Brenda and Scotty are in San Diego this weekend. Brenda needed a vacation and her cousin needed someone to visit with her husband gone on Tsunami relief for the Navy.
It's at these time, when I'm sitting here alone that I start to wonder about my "other" family. I wonder what they are doing on a day like today.
I was browsing the adoption forums last night and came and realized so many adoptees are so depressed. They long to know their past. I see some posts from adoptees who say they don't have any questions or any desire to know their past. These are the same adoptees, more often than not, who talk about how they "owe" their adoptive parents or how their adoptive parents "chose" them so in my opinion, they aren't being honest with themselves.
Still no word from Children's Home Society. I think I'm going to go mad. I'm not going to write to them until February though, to see if anything has happened. Gallifrey conventions is coming up so that will keep me distracted.
On December 23, I got an email that my case has been assigned at teh Children's Home Society. They aren't going to start till this week, but keep your fingers crossed.
It's been a busy week. Last Sunday, I was in a rally in front of FOX studios protesting the show, "Who's your Daddy?" There were about 20 people out there all marching around with signs. We got quite a few honks and thumbs up from passerbys, even a few going into or leaving FOX. Unfortunatley it started raining about an hour into the rally, but we hung it out for another hour.
I'm reading "Primal Wound" right now. It's is one of those books that adoptees and birthparents alike say is very hard to read. I have been avoiding it for a while, but finally broke down to read it. I'm about half way thru but it's not as intense as I thought. I don't know if I'm shielding myself, or all the reading and processing I've done has taken the edge off.
On another note, my friend Zara Phillips has released her book. I got a copy today from her so I will read it next.
I brought back three necklaces from Asilomar. All three are carvings of bears made from different stones. Scotty's is red, Brenda's pink and slightly translucent, and mine is black with white spots. Scotty wore his all day so I did as well.
As I was putting up the pictures yesterday, and specifically the picture of the "angry" adoptees, I thought of the anger that runs under the surface. Adoptees who complain about the system or who speak out against sealed records are automatically labled "angry" adoptees. Why shouldn't we be though? We have our pasts stripped from us for our protection. Whether we had good lives or not so good, whether we had very supportive families, or grew up in foster care, the bottom line is, we were seperated from our blood and history. Now we are told it doesn't matter.
I want to scream. I had visions of me screaming so hard my blood began stream from my eyes and mouth. Why can't politicians get a clue and just open the records. Why do I have to pay to find info others take for granted. Yeah, I know life isn't fair, but that doesn't mean it can't be a little fairer.
On a lighter note, today was a great day. I spent most of it just relaxing. As I was getting Scotty into the car to go to school, he said "I love you." It was so spontaneous that it caught me by surprise. Even after I picked him up he was very close. It was so nice.
I am home. What a wonderful feeling to say that and really mean it. I have found, no made, a place I belong.
Here are some pictures of the retreat. Right now, I just want to relax.
(Morning)
I am at a CUB retreat being held at Asilomar. This place is so peaceful. It is right on the ocean, with lots of trees, dunes, and deer. I walked out of my room and there were a pair right outside. It's so beautiful listening to the surf crashing on the shore, smelling the faint hint of pine in the air, feeling the cool breezes. I'm sitting on a ledge looking out over trees. I can see the waves in the distance, and another pair of deer 100 feet or so off to my left.
(Noon)
Nancy Verrier gave the first presentation this morning. She is an adoptive mom, whose daughter has been reunited with her birthmom. Nancy has also written two books, the first of which is supposed to be one of the best books for adoptees, but also one of the hardest to read. I had been holding off on it despite the amount of books on the subject I have read, but finally broke down today and bought it.
Her topic was mostly directed at birthparents, trying to explain some of the idiosyncrasies that adoptees have and why they react differently than most people to events. In many ways, she explains, adoptees don't have a sense of who they are. They adapt themselves to fit in like chameleons.
As an example, she said she had asked a group session of adoptees what their favorite color is. No one raised their hand. At first, she thought it was because they were afraid to be the first, but after discussing it she realized it was because the just didn't know. They were expecting to get some stimulus from outside that would tell them or help them choose. Now obviously this isn't the same for every adoptee and there are different degrees of it but as she was talking, I began to realize, I don't really know what my favorite color is. I never truly thought about it for myself. I can remember people asking me and my mind would quickly flit thru answers like "I like black, but that may seem to dark, so I could say blue, but that's so common, I like dark purple, but they may think that's weird for a guy, same with teal, so I will say gray." I can remember running through different versions of this litany several times. Now I like gray, but I'm not sure if I would consider it my favorite color. To be honest, I think I like steel blue, sort of a blue with gray mixed in.
She also commented on some adoptees don't realize the consequences of their actions. They don't believe they are important enough to actually matter so their actions don't matter either. Again this may exhibit in different degrees. It made me think of when I was leaving Brenda and Scotty. In my mind, I thought it was the best thing I could do for Brenda and Scotty so they could be happy. I was letting them go, so they could be happy. What the heck was I thinking. In reality it was a terrible thing to do, which devastated Brenda and alienated Scotty from me for a while and we are now getting into a healthy relationship although I need to spend more time with him.
Scotty, my little twin. There are times I look at him, and want to let the little kid in me cry till I collapse from dehydration. I know he isn't an exact duplicate of me as a child, but to have a personification of that little kid in me named Scott in front of me is sometimes very hard, and totally unfair to Scotty. I love him and can't believe that I almost left him. I brought pictures with me and have been showing him off. It's amazing the thrill I get whenever someone says "He looks just like you." I just smile and can't really say anything except thank you. I can't really put into words how much it means to me for people to notice that. How important it is to have that. To have gone your whole life without seeing some else who looks like you except the mirror. At least here, these people get it. They smile back and just let me bask in the moment. I love this group.
I am starting to get teary eyed thinking of Scotty. I miss him and Brenda a lot. CUB is coming back here next year in October so I might see about bringing Scotty and Brenda with me. They don't have TV's in the rooms nor phones. You eat in a community setting.The buildings are surrounded by trees with long winding paths between them. There are birds, gophers and deer everywhere. (there are a pair of deer not 20 feet in front of me as I type. I would love to see Scotty's face right now if he were here. I am going to try to get a picture with my phone so I can send it right now to them.
(Night)
The day is almost over and I am getting ready to crawl into bed with a book and some tea. My feet are killing me but I wouldn't trade this day.
We just finished watching a movie that a bmom wrote and produced. It contains stories of several adoptees told from the adoptees, birthparents, and adoptive parents. The stories were great and sad, but I found myself looking for a connection some bit of recognition even in these people. Since going to CUB meetings I have become more aware of doing this all the time. It's kind of scary.
There are six male adoptees and two female adoptees here today. We had an impromptu support session and it felt really good, although we began making fun of some of the generalizations Nancy had made previously about adoptees. Things like we are perpetually late, controlling, bad in relationships, often unable to make choices until we here others choices and often diagnosed with ADD. We all went to dinner together (arriving early)and sat at the corner table. We then began attributing anything that happened to our being adopted. Someone didn't hear part of a discussion, what are you ADD? Someone try's to be polite and let someone else go first, oh there's that adoptee trait of not deciding first. Just little things, but it was good to laugh about them and feel okay about it.
Can't wait to see what tomorrow brings.
Another email, another heartache. Apparently, one of those two part timers has retired and my file is actually number 5, they made a mistake in the count last month. They are waiting to hire another person to see if they can get the position changed to full time.
What the heck???? I don't care what they are doing, I paid for a service and am getting frustrated waiting. If they are so disorganized that they can't figure out how many files are in front, how do I trust they will actually do what I paid for? After all, they can come back and say, sorry we couldn't find anyone but thanks for the money, and I have no recourse.
I'm going nuts. I hate not having control as it is, and now this. I feel like I'm just unimportant to them, after all they have my money.
Having said all that, and as this Thanksgiving come upon us, I am thankful for the family I have. Many weren't as lucky. I am thankful for my son, the only blood I may ever know. I am thankful for my wife, who has stood by me through it all, even when I didn't stand by her. I am thankful for my skills, my ability to adapt, my knowledge.
On another note, I started a Google Group called Adoption Discussion. Only one post besides me, but it's a start.
On May 17th, Children's Home Society received my paperwork and payment to have them search for my biological mother.
On August 24th, I emailed the Children's Home Society asking for an update. I got a reply the next day which stated there were 9 files in front of mine and the delay was due to only having 2 part-time workers and several medical emergencies. Okay, I can accept that. They asked that I wait 5 to 6 more weeks.
On October 5th, I emailed them again asking for an update. It took almost a week to get a response again, and now I'm number 4. They hope to be working on my case by next month. Yippee. They didn't waste any time charging my credit card the $425. I guess their accounting office is fully staffed.
On November 19th, I am going on a CUB retreat. I can't wait.
I am reading a book by F. Paul Wilson which is titled "Reborn." It's a story about a man who was adopted who suddenly gets a huge inheritance from a man he didn't know. I don't want to give too much away, but it is a horror story. Anyway, there is one part where the main character is trying to tell explain to his wife why he's wants to know who is biological family is.
"It's like having amnesia and being alone on a ship drifting over the Marianas trench; you drop anchor but it never hits bottom, so you go on drifting and drifting. You believe that if you knew where you came from, maybe you could get some idea where you were going. But you look behind you and it's all open sea. You feel cut off from your past. it's a form of social and genetic amnesia."
What a great description. It's not to say that our adoptive family isn't there, they are for many of us. The thing is, they aren't where our genetic background came from, our roots. It's like feeling like a changeling. Luckily, I was one of those changelings that had a family
Even people react differently. Look how Reagan's kids were listed at his funeral. They always separated the "adopted" son from the rest.
I have mailed off my paperwork to have Children's home society begin searching. The have already taken my money but they are saying it will be quite a few weeks before they can even start (around the 23rd of August.) In some ways, I am numb. I'm scared of what I may find and excited as well. Will they answer my questions? Will they accept me. Will I actually find them? Will they reject me?
This weekend I'm going to visit an adoptee who has had some serious issues, possibly stemming from adoption. His therapist has asked that CUB send a few people to talk to him and Mimi asked me to be one of them. I hope I can help.
http://www.abcnews.go.com/sections/2020/Living/Adoption_promo_040426-1.html
I knew the news would do anything for ratings but we as a society have just sunk to a new low.
Yesterday was a great day. I went to "Adoption Awareness" mini-convention in Northridge. There were several guest speakers and a bunch of people from different corners of the triad. I bought two new books and met a bunch of new people. It was a very long and very fun day. It was so strange to be around a bunch of people and talk about adoption, hear reunion stories, and just feel comfortable around a large group or strangers.
One person I met was Patrick McMahon who creates cards and calendars on the topic of adoption. He is an adoptee who has searched and found his family and is writing a book about it. Check out his site here.
Have you seen Antwone Fisher? The story of a boy, given up for adoption, taken into a psycho foster family until he's 18, joins the navy then finds himself and his family? What a movie. Without giving anything away, at the end, I just remember shaking all over and couldn't stop. It's amazing what a human can be subjected to and still become a decent person.
Not much else right now, went to a CUB meeting two weekends ago and as always came away feeling good. These meetings are very helpful in that they allow a peek into the other side, the birthmoms feelings. It's amazing to see and hear what they went through.
Who am I? What defines me? Questions my counselor asked and I had a little difficulty answering. Does my adoption define me? Does the lack of knowledge, the secrets society keeps from me make me who I am? The logical answer is yes and no. No because it isn't the end all/be all of my existence. Yes because it has scarred me. I am discovering more about who I am each day as I write or talk to my couselor. I have a fear of rejection sometimes doing the rejecting first. It causes me to stay on the fringes of things, to drift from group to group, never fully integrating, yet always a part. A pretender able to fit with whichever crowd I'm in.
So, the question is, should it define my life? The answer to that is no. It should give me strength to fight for my right to know, and for my fellow adoptees, but it should not define it. By writing about my feelings I hope to slowly rid myself of this filter which I see myself through, like cleaning a dirty mirror to see a true reflection.
So, who am I? I am cynical, sarcastic, sometimes short tempered, caring, want to do the right thing and respect others, have a deep dislike of people who don't respect others, and I want to feel like I belong. I like to listen to music, play video games, read and watch sci-fi. I have a deep love of my son and will defend him to my death. I love my wife dearly although I find it hard to really tell her, sometimes, that fear of rejection getting in the way. I am angry that I cannot be given a piece of paper without my biological mommy's permission, a woman who gave up any right to me upon my birth.
My couselor asked me if I was angry with my biological mother. I do not know. I replied that I wasn't because I needed to know why she had given me up. I have read stories of children of rape, women who were lied to and told their child died, women who were psycholigcally berated into giving up thier child by family or social workers. If this is what happened, how can I be mad at her? My couselor also asked if I was angry at my parents for telling me. Nope, we are too different in appearance that I would have known something was up sooner or later and I would have felt betrayed if I had found out another way. Them telling me was one way that I could find me and they have given me everything and every bit of help they possibly can, and continue to do so. While they may not have given me life, they performed an even more important role, they gave me A life. Now, I need to make it count.
Today we are celebrating Scotty's birthday. I have been keeping busy for most of the day but for a bit I stopped to rest. As I did, I began daydreaming about something but it dealt with me riding my bike as fast as possible without care for lights or traffic. I was stopped by a policeman who asked if I was trying to kill myself. My response was that I was never born, how can I die? This shocked me out of my reverie and I had tears in my eyes.
Consciously, I do realize that I was born just like everyone else but I guess not knowing anyone who can prove it makes it seem a little unreal. There are even incidents where the State of Florida changed dates or place of birth which makes it even more unreal. How can our society just arbitrarily decide that I don't need to know anything about myself, where I came from, whose blood runs through my veins?
As I search through the feelings and frustrations that I have concerning these issues, I have found that I seem to have an underdeveloped sense of self. I don't really know who I am. My counselor asked me why I feel different. At first, I couldn't really say. Am I different than the multitudes? as I really thought about it, yes. For a majority of the citizens of this fine country, a piece of paper which states who they are is readily available for a few bucks. For myself, and most of my fellow adoptees, an amended version is available or for a few hundred dollars, the state will track down my mommy and ask permission to release this document which is about me.
I am angry. I feel like a second class citizen. I feel like I'm not really a person. It's like I don't exist, a wraith, the disembodied spirit of a person who has died. Rationally, I realize that this is all in my head. I shouldn't allow the actions of others define who I am, but it's a little hard to not be affected. Slowly, I'm coming to grips with this. I need to relax and not get so angry about the mistakes of our society. They don't understand. They take for granted what they have, the knowledge of where they come from, who they are, that their family wanted them.
Yes, you can make the argument that I was wanted by the family that took me in. That I was "chosen." However, that doesn't change the fact that my own flesh and blood didn't want me. Imagine the effect this would have on you, knowing this. I AM NOT advocating lying to adoptees, or hiding the truth of who and what they are. I think it is more important that we tell them... us... exactly who they are and why.
Birth Certificates were originally sealed to protect the child from the stain of illegitimacy, like it's the child's fault. If so, why is it that upon growing up, the records stay sealed to "protect" the privacy of the biological family from the deep, dark secret. Protect them from the shame that is me.
Okay, enough of the pity fest. I need to search and find them, and find out why. I need to know what genetic traits I carry and what traits I am passing to my son who lays sleeping beside me on the couch. I need to know what, if any, information I was given is accurate. I need to know who I am.
I have been watching Deep Space 9 (I bought all seven seasons on DVD.) One of my favorite characters on the show was Odo, but I never realized how much we had in common. He was raised by people who were not his own and did not know who his people were. He finds them, only to find they are not what he was hoping for. In the end, he returns to them, actually saving his entire race from destruction.
In a way, I guess this is what set off this anger again. I fear that I may find them and not like them, or be rejected. I don't know which would be worse, but I have to try. Not knowing is the worst by far.