Over the last few days it’s been made apparent to me that there is still so much deep dark sadness deep in my heart from my adoptee issues. Is it ever going to go away? I truly don’t believe so. I believe the key for me is to work on coping skills as much as wishing they would go away. I remember hearing another adoptee state one time, “It feels like a life sentence”. I believe this statement sums it up the best for me. Even as a God fearing Christian who is in a recovery program from these very issues I still have hard days, and rough patches and they seem to send me in a downward spiral into complete sadness and feelings of despair.
Let me make this clear that I am a truly blessed person. I am thankful for everything God has given me in my life, and for the fact that I have 3 amazing healthy children. I have an awesome career, a small handmade soap business on the side. I have an amazing church family, and a small circle of friends I wouldn’t trade for the world. I wake up daily and as soon as my eyes open I am thanking God for getting me to where I am today. From where I used to be I’ve come along way. I’m very thankful for my health, and for the few family members I do have contact with in both families, adoptive and biological. I’m generally a very upbeat, happy and positive person. I don’t sit around and feel sorry for myself or focus on the negative aspects in life. I focus on the future and what it’s going to be like when I have my future grand kids, and maybe a husband one day although that’s neither here nor there to me. I focus on my relationship with God, and that’s the most important relationship I have in my life. Then comes my relationships with my kids.
I can certainly say that if I didn’t have God or my kids I wouldn’t be here. I would have nothing to live for. I was hoping that my feelings of being less than, or inadequate were tapering off and going away but I believe they are still deep down there because I wouldn’t feel the way I do when I have this downward spiral of sadness that seems to come and go. It’s hard to build yourself up, and have feelings of self-worth when you have been through what adoptees go through. All adoptees are different and we are all at different stages of our journeys. We are always second class, second choice, we always have to worry about everyone else’s feelings more than our own. How do you think that makes us feel? We have to worry about what everyone will think about what we say about our journeys so we keep quiet to avoid ruffling anyone’s feathers. I find time and time again I have to defend my very feelings against people that have no clue of what it feels like to be adopted but they always seem to have an opinion or something to say. More than likely they blend in with the rest of society on how glorifying adoption is because they know someone that has adopted and believe its all rainbows. They never once taking into consideration of adoptees loose an entire family before they gain another one. We are forced to suffer in silence because no one understands us. We can never grieve the loss of our first families because our adopters deny us that right by telling us we should be grateful.
Finally at 39 I am grieving, all on my own. Because once again no one understands but other adoptees and I believe some birth mothers may understand to an extent but not fully. They lost a child; we lost a whole family and our very own mothers and fathers. Not that one is more or less than the other, because I know losing a child is traumatic and they too were more than likely denied to grieve the loss of that child but for us to have to pretend our whole lives that we should just be grateful is just flat out wrong and traumatizing. The loss of our mothers is traumatizing. Any time a mother and a child is separated a trauma occurs. This trauma needs grieving, and the proper healing to take place. Now how is that going to happen when adopters pretend it’s not even there?
I’m in a recovery program called Celebrate Recovery. It’s a Christ-centered recovery program. It’s to help everyone overcome their hurts, habits, & hang ups. I am certain God put I in this ministry to not only work on my adoptee issues but to help share the realities of the silenced side of adoption and that’s an adoptees voice. I have prayed for grace and peacefulness when I share my issues because again, I always have to worry about who I offend and whose feelings I might hurt. I give my testimony for the second time on April 3rd. I gave it this past September but I sort of sugar coated the depths of my adoptee issues, but I am spending the next 3 weeks rewriting it and I am focusing solely on my adoptee issues because I truly believe being adopted, and the impact it has had on me is the root of my dysfunctional behaviors and life style patterns. It’s why I always drank alcohol to cope. It’s why I always tried to cover the pain and hurt. It’s because that pain and hurt is so tremendous that it’s unbearable at times. I have been living a sober lifestyle since August 12, 2012. No alcohol and no drugs, no anything to numb the pain. I can tell you it’s the most difficult journey to walk and the emotions I’m processing are very real and some days I don’t even feel like going on. But I have to because my kids need me. I wake up, put on the sugar coated smile and appear to have it all together for everyone around me. But deep down it still hurts. I’m not sure if that will ever go away.
I wish sometimes I could record my thoughts about it. I was lying in bed last night with my mind racing, praying and asking God to just take it all way. Take away the sadness and pain. I was thinking about never really blending in with either of my families. I felt like an outsider in my birth family because we had no memories to speak of, no history to share. Its awkward building relationships with people you should be so close to but you are virtual strangers at ever extent. It’s even harder when they live far away. I have cut ties and let go of all my birth family accept my biological brother who is amazing. The rest of them have been too painful even down to the biological cousins. I pulled back and threw in the towel on all the rest of the relationships. I have wanted to go see my biological grandmother for the first time but at this point I’m thinking that may cause me more harm than good. How would you feel going to see your biological grandmother for the first time ever and knowing that was the only time you would ever see her so it would be your first and last time ever meeting her? Talk about emotional. Maybe if it would be better emotionally if I never went. I never opened that can of worms. Do you not realize how hard this is? I have to choose between seeing her one time or never at all. I shouldn’t have to choose this. It’s not fair. With my adoptive family, I don’t know what I would do without my cousins and my one brother I do have contact with. They have all been amazing, but sad to say it’s still not the same. We are close, some of us but we don’t share the same genetics and I always felt different and like I didn’t fit in with them either. It didn’t help growing up in a step family. So not only was I the adopted child, I was a step child also. My adoptive dad was awesome but he was also far away. We never were able to have a close relationship. But I love him dearly. IT WAS DIFFERENT! VERY DIFFERENT! I never felt like I belonged with either family. I’ve had to accept this.
I’m thankful today I have created my own life, with my own family whom are my children. This is what I wake up for every single day. My kids.
I will continue to write about my journey and share it with the world.
Never stop speaking about your biggest hurts, or your biggest struggles. Those same hurts and struggles are the same thing someone else is going through in life. You never know who you might inspire by speaking about your journey. That is what my blog is for, to speak about my biggest hurts, pains and struggles. Writing is empowering and healing. This is why I share my journey.
GOD CAN HEAL OUR BROKEN HEARTS
It’s important that we never stop sharing or reaching out to those who are in the shoes we were once in. I can’t tell you how much it would have meant for me to have a person of support in my life when I was going through my reunions with my birth family that understood the emotional aspect I was going through. I did have some amazing friends and a very few close adoptive family members I confided in, but no one could relate to the issues I was dealing with. They definitely tried and I love them for that. Once I started speaking out about my adoption experience and reached out to adoptees then adoptees started responding
I feel that God is going to use my journey to help someone else, to help expose the realities of adoption and how it feels to be adopted. In return it will bring healing to adoptees all over the place. I love blogging because this is my place and no one can tell me how to feel here. No one can tell me I should be grateful for being separated from my first family. No one can heal a wound by denying it’s there.
Today I’m grateful I’m at a place in my recovery from LIFE where I can be of a sound mind and body and inspire someone else. I will say this journey isn’t an easy one. I still struggle with being adopted, daily. I cry almost daily about some sort of loss or grieving that may come across my mind. Today what’s really on my heart is how much I missed of my birth family. I missed everything. This makes me very sad. I can’t just get over it. I have to process these things, and accept them which I have done. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Not one day goes by that I don’t think of my birth family in some way. I didn’t choose for things to be this way, they were chosen for me. It feels like things are all over the place with both families. The only adoptive parent I have in my life is my adoptive dad. I’m thankful for him, but he’s far away and has been my whole life. It’s hard to have close relationships with someone who is always far away. I love him dearly but I wish he was closer over the years. Both my birth parents rejected me, and this hurts beyond words can describe. My adoption experience has had EVERYTHING to do with my life and the way I am. My relationships with people and how much I love myself have had a direct impact on my adoption experience. I suppose you would have to be one of us to get it but I’m going to keep trying to explain through my writings.
I believe today I’m growing in my relationship with God, and that’s what keeps me sane. He’s turned my hopelessness into HOPE and my brokenness into pieces mended back together. Little by little I’m healing, and growing. If I didn’t have God like I do today, I know I wouldn’t be where I am. I’m thankful he helped me find my biological family. Regardless of how the relationships turned out, at least now I know. At 39 years old I know where I come from, who I look like, and where my people are. No more wondering and being tormented by thoughts of despair in finding my people.
EVERY SINGLE DAY I THANK GOD FOR HELPING ME FIND MY FAMILY! NEVER GIVE UP HOPE! NEVER STOP SPEAKING ABOUT WHAT’S IMPORTANT TO YOU!
Knowing she was suffering from alcoholism had absolutely no impact on me wanting to meet and know and love my birthmother.
Never for the life of me will I understand why an adoptive parent would share negative things with their adoptive child about their birth families? Why do they do this? From my experience in my journey and hearing other adoptees share their stories it’s almost as if the adoptive parents get some self-satisfaction about sharing some dark points about the biological families in hopes to create a wedge or a negative feelings from the adoptee about their birth families. I find this appalling.
Our birth families are who we are. They are a big part of us and no one can say or do anything to change that. I hear over and over, “But she was addicted to drugs, and she was a prostitute, or she was an alcoholic.” Those things don’t make her our mother any less. I know some adoptees may feel different but for me, I never had a chance to know the woman that gave me life. But after finding her and being reunited with her one time I learned a lot about her. I wish I was given more time to get to know her. I learned from those around and of course my adoptive mom loved to throw it in my face that she was an alcoholic. She would mention this because I was a drinker for 25 years of my life. I drank to escape the pain and heartbreak of my birth mother giving me away. My adopted mom said “You act like she would have given you a better life”.
You know, I really resent that statement to a major degree. Let’s see. Would I have rather had my REAL mother who was an alcoholic OR a FAKE mother that was addicted to prescription pain pills and depressed who battled mental illness my whole life. For me the answer to that is simple. I WOULD HAVE RATHER HAD MY REAL MOTHER! At least she would have been my REAL mother, not some stranger that wanted me for her own selfish reasons. Families have dysfunctions, and families have issues. I fully understand this. But when my adopted mother started speaking negatively about my birth mother it only drew me further away from her. It felt like I had to choose a side. And in the end I was left with nothing. Because it just so happened my birth mother didn’t want me in her life. I struggle with this adoptee battle daily!
I’ve learned to accept these things but it hasn’t been easy. I would like to share that any time an adoptive parent speaks negatively about a birth family member of the child they are raising they are speaking negatively about the child. This has a reflection of the adoptee thinking badly about oneself and starting to feel as if something is wrong with them. Why would any parent want that for their child? If there are traumatic events that happened and they are the reason why the child was separated from their original family there is no reason the child needs to hear that in a demeaning way. They can hear the truth at age appropriate times, but what about speaking love about the first family? Telling that child it’s okay to cry, and grieve because of those reasons. Instead of speaking badly about their very own roots.
It’s not what you say it’s how you say it. Let me make this clear, it was only my adoptive mother that spoke negatively. My adoptive father never said a negative word about anyone. He never talked about it ever.
I will just say I commend all the adoptive parents who have nothing but love for their adoptive child’s first family and don’t speak badly about them or talk down on them. I know there are many out there that don’t do this. For those that do, or for those that are raising adoptive children. I plead with you to please not speak negatively about your child’s first family. This can and will have lasting long term side effects that will damage the child’s inner being and make them feel terrible about themselves. It will not make them feel more grateful they were adopted if those are your intentions. It will only confuse them more. Take it from an adoptee that’s experience this.
I want to share a little about my recovery journey. As you already know my blog and writing are all a part of healing for me. I made a vow to blog more in 2014. I really find this is a safe place, and I can get my feelings out and no one can interrupt me or tell me how to feel. Why didn’t I discover this earlier? I might not have had so many emotions and feelings built up and they came out in other ways like anger, resentments, and rage, confusion, low self-esteem, etc.
I always say I’m in recovery from LIFE. What this means is that all life’s experiences have made me into the person I am today. I will say all the way back to being in my birth mother’s womb and being given away to strangers after I was 4 days old. This is part of me, it’s my history. I want to write about it because it’s mine to write. It’s the truth. I heard an adoptive mom say recently “You should never say “Given UP”; you should say “Given a Better Life”. This frustrated me a bit, because you can’t tell people what they should or shouldn’t say. What I say is based on what I feel and what I feel is based on my experience. Who is to say I had a “BETTER LIFE” anyway? I believe that’s the stereotypical statement that most people are lead to believe. That’s what the adoption industry want’s you to believe. “ADOPTION IS BETTER”. I have news for you, many adoptive families are FULL of dysfunction and have homes that aren’t fit for anyone to live in, let alone a child that has been paid for at a very hefty price. A price that’s based on LOSS all the way across the board. I have always felt like I was abandoned at birth, because I was. My birth mother gave birth to me, and left the hospital and left me there. I was placed 4 days later by strangers. People I didn’t know. This is abandonment. Whatever her intentions were she still gave up every right to parent me, and gave me away. I don’t care what anyone says, this is abandonment. This is where it all started for me.
GOD MADE YOU SO YOU COULD MAKE A DIFFERENCE!
It’s been proven that adopted kids separated from their mothers for any reason or kids separated from their birth mothers at the beginning of life endure a trauma. When a trauma occurs and it’s not grieved or tended too in the proper way, it will come at other stages of life. To ignore the trauma only adds pain to that trauma. When a child is adopted or separated from their mother the beginning of life this needs proper grieving at the right age so the adoptee or child can heal in the proper way. This might seem foreign to some people. But take it from an adoptee that turned to drugs, alcohol, sex and violence, anger and rage 27 years of my 39 years of life. I have been living in VICTORY for almost 17 months. I’ve been in recovery from abandonment & rejection issues for 17 months. I’ve been sober for 17 months and during this time, I have been able to uncover what has been covered my whole life. That’s its okay to grieve the loss of my first family. Its okay to cry about the family I never grew up with. It’s okay to grieve the fact that my birth mother didn’t want to parent me. It’s okay at 39 years old to feel abandoned and rejected by the two people who should love me the most, my birth parents. It’s okay to feel the way I do and not have anyone else tell me how I should feel. Do I feel like an idiot sometimes grieving something some people don’t even comprehend? Sometimes, but unless you have been left at the hospital by the woman that gave you life you will never understand how we, the adoptees feel. It’s been the biggest heartache of my entire life.
What do I think can be changed for future adoptees and those who have been adopted at the present time? I think that allowing the adopted child, or child who has been separated from his or her mother to grieve and encouraging them to grieve is a great way to start. This can’t be done by living in the “Fog” about what is really going on. Adoptive parents need to come out of the fog, and accept the truth about their adoptive child. As hard as it may be, read what adult adoptees are writing. Learn from them. We aren’t sharing our experiences for them to be kept in silence. Ask questions, and have an open mind. At 39 I’m grieving the biggest loss of my life, and that’s my first family. Until you grieve that loss it will always be an open wound deep down and it will never heal until grieving that loss takes place. Healing is possible but it will never happen by denying the issue is there.
In my recovery journey and giving up all substances and giving my life to God, I have learned that it’s not an easy journey. But I didn’t want to keep living with the pain from my past any longer. I feel all adoptees need to grieve their losses in order to live a healthy productive life. For some adoptees, they don’t feel they have any adoptee issues. That’s wonderful but certain things in life can trigger these issues, and they may very well come out at some point. My adoption issues have had an impact on every aspect of my life. The way I raise my kids, my relationships, bonding with people, letting people close to me, my work, my self-esteem, my happiness, and the list could go on and on.
I believe that God uses our pain for his gain. We each have a journey and we are called to share our experiences with the world. We have to share our struggles so they can help someone else heal. That’s what my blog is about. Maybe that’s what my journey is all about?
Healing is possible, but denying the problem or issue exists will never benefit the adoptee or the child separated from their mother.
Why is lying okay when it comes to adoption? In some cases adoption isn’t part of the equation, but children are constantly lied to about who their biological family is and people actually think that’s okay.
It’s NOT okay to LIE to a child period. It’s NOT okay to lie to them about who their biological family is. Lies destroy and they ruin relationships. How would you feel if you were lied to about something so important? You wouldn’t like it.
Unless this has happened to you, you can’t comprehend how it makes you feel but you know how it feels to be lied too right? It hurts, imagine someone lying to you about who your mother or father is, or withholding such personal information. I can only speak for my experience and how it made me feel. My adoptive mom lied to me my whole life about finding my birth family. Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to find my birth mother. She lied over and over and said “Once we get enough money for an attorney we will get the sealed records opened and we will find her”. This gave me comfort in knowing that one day it might really happen. I might find my birth mother. When I was in my early 20’s that all changed. My adoptive mother told me she had been keeping something from me. She knew who my birth mother was, and my adoptive dad had her name. So all those years she lied to me and I would never trust her again. She put her insecurities about not wanting me to find my birth mother in front of my needs and wanting to know. She knew it tore me up deep down and she didn’t care. I know what you’re thinking. “You should be glad she told you at all!”. Yeah? Well I am glad she told me, but she didn’t need to tell me a LIE all those years! She could have just said the truth or just expressed that she understood my feelings and consoled me in some way. But no, she lied to me over and over. I have forgiven her, but I will never forget it. One more list to add to the things she took from me, along with my child hood. Thank God I can make up for it and be a better mom for my kids.
I know a lot of people who are keeping secrets from their kids so they can cover up their irresponsible actions, and people that are lying to their kids because they don’t want to tell the truth. Because they will have to face reality and it will be too hard on them. Let me just say, the truth is ALWAYS better than discovering that you are living a LIE. Lying destroys people. It tears them down and lies hurt people. When people keep secrets and they are ashamed of the truth it will always come out in the end. 9 X out of 10 it’s always so much harder to discover you are living a lie, than if someone would have told you to begin with.
If you are keeping a secret or lying to a child or a person about their identity, who they are, who their REAL parents are, or where they come from, I beg you to reconsider and tell the truth. I suggest some counseling so you can get some advice on how to make it right. Its never too late to make it right! No matter how painful, the truth is always better than pretending and living a lie. Everyone deserves to know where they come from, and their history.
I had an adoptive mom say to me on twitter yesterday, “I read your blog,
I know from personal knowledge that many adoptees do not share your issues.”
And I replied with “I know from personal knowledge many adoptees DO share my issues.” I don’t understanding why society is so blinded about the realities of adoption. My adoptee issues and pain are very real and I will continue to always share my feelings with the world to help raise awareness on how it feels to be adopted.
From this lady’s response to me, it leads me to believe she’s an adoptive mom or why would she care to comment? I find this comment to be disturbing. Half-truth, half lie? It was pointless to say the least. I find it appalling when an adoptive parent wants to stand up and speak about what adoptees go through when they are basing their opinion on their fantasy or what they wish their adopted child felt. The truth is, more than likely their adopted child hasn’t grown up and developed their adoptee voice yet. This means as a child they just might not have any issues, and for the lucky adoptees maybe they never will. I have been blogging about my adoptee experience for almost 2 years now and I’m fairly active in the online adoptee community. I have yet to experience an overflowing amount of “EXCITED TO BE ADOPTED ADOPTEES!”
I really believe that all the adoptees with a voice need to keep voicing their experience so that any adoptive parents that stumble across their blogs, or tweets, or Facebook pages can truly open their hearts up and learn something. It’s the AP’s such as the one above that are blinded and don’t see REALITY who are not going to learn and benefit from the adoptees who have been in the shoes of the very ones they are raising. Even if they don’t agree with what they are hearing about how it feels to be adopted, they should really open their heart and eyes and ears up to the fact that, WOW, MY ADOPTED CHILD COULD FEEL THIS WAY. Not, “I know for certain many adoptees don’t feel the way you do” With an attitude like that there will be no hope for future adoptees and for society to understand there is much more to adoption than 2 people completing their family by adopting an unwanted, abandoned child.
The reality of adoption is that before a child is adopted their own mother gives them away. However this is explained to the child leaves the child confused. After all, how does one love something and give it away? This can very well lead to low self-esteem, abandonment & rejection issues and fear issues that everyone is going to leave them. These issues are ALL root causes of many types of dysfunctional behaviors and adoptees have a very large chance of facing any of these root causes. Weather any adoptive parents want to admit it or not. I think the real question should be, “How do I help understand my adoptive child better?” VS. “I know from personal experience many adoptees don’t feel like you do”.
Open your eyes and ears, and be receptive to what adoptees have to say, especially if you have invested in adopted children. Of all people you should have an open heart and mind. You can learn a lot from someone who has been in your child’s shoes. Especially those who have healed from the trauma that being given up for adoption by their own mother.
I am so sorry for all the pain I have caused you. After reading your letter I wanted to answer a few of your questions.
I want you to know that as many times as you dreamed about me, I dreamed about you. Not one day or one hour went by that I didn’t have you in my mind. I always wondered what you looked like, who you looked like, and what your life was like. I always had you close in my heart, even if you were physically far away. I am so sorry for all the pain that being adopted has caused you. That was not in the plan or my intentions, not even for one minute.
I need you to know that I grew up in a very dysfunctional home. My mother and father were alcoholics, and my life was anything but a normal one. We were poor, and we didn’t have much. My mother was in mental institutes many times throughout my life. She did some very horrible things but I will just say we didn’t have it easy.
I married my first husband and had your half-sister. She was born in 1970. Her father and I started to have problems, and we soon ended up divorcing. He was the love of my life. I always drank alcohol to cope with things in my life and it always seemed to make things much easier to deal with. I never realized until it was too late how much alcohol took from my life and how much of an impact it had on my life. Now looking back I see it controlled everything. My life never would be the same after we divorced.
Even thoe I always had alcohol in my life and things just seemed to get worse after my divorce. My father began to get sick, and soon passed away in 1973. At this time I was a single mother of your older sister and alcohol was a big part of my life. There were pall barriers at my father’s funeral, and one of them was Jimmie Jones, whom was 10 years older than me. He was a close family friend, and he was close with my father, and my brothers. After the funeral he asked me if I wanted to go have a few drinks with him, and even when he was married at the time, I didn’t think there was any harm in having a few drinks. Alcohol seemed to make everything so much better and it helped ease the pain I was facing with my father’s passing. The night of my father’s funeral was the night you were conceived and after this night, my life would never be the same. Jimmie and I both were lonely and ended up getting a hotel room that night after we left the bar, and one thing led to another. After this night, I never saw him again. This was a very poor decision on my part, but there was nothing I could do to take this night away, and to take the pain away from my father passing away Jimmie consoled me, as he was 10 years older than me, he knew all the right things to say.
Soon after I found out I was pregnant with you. I did continue to drink during my pregnancy, and I am so sorry for that. It is one of the many regrets in my life I have. You see alcohol had a control over me, like nothing else ever did. It was all I knew to get by, and ease the pain I was about to endure. There is no way I could have made it through a pregnancy and know I was going to give my baby away, and not have alcohol to help me cope with those emotions. I am so sorry for what that has done to you. Please know I never wanted to hurt you. I could say I would do anything to take that night back, but if I did that you wouldn’t be where you are today with your beautiful children. What I can say is that I want to let you know I am so sorry for your pain and I hope someday you can forgive me so you can let go of the pain you have in your heart so you can truly be happy. I understand your anger towards me, and I am so sorry I have caused this. You have every right to be angry.
When I made the decision to give you up for adoption, I want you to know abortion just wasn’t an option. My mother tried to abort her first child in every way possible, and didn’t succeed. My oldest sister was born mentally retarded and lived in a nursing home her whole life until she passed away in her 60’s. Abortion never was an option for me, because this situation tore our family up on many levels. When I got pregnant with you, the reason I decided not to keep you was because your biological father was married and I didn’t want to bring you into the world under those circumstances. You see, if I would have kept you then you would have felt like a mistake, or a product of an affair and I didn’t want you to have to endure that type of pain. I felt like it would have ruined you, and I also was so ashamed of my behavior I just couldn’t deal with the pain. This is my reason in choosing adoption. Never did I ever mean for you to grow up harboring such pain that you have. I have carried the shame from my actions deep inside, and I never have forgiven myself for what I have done. Having an affair with a married man is just not in my character, and I have had to live with that my entire life. The only thing that seemed to ease my pain is to drink alcohol because no one ever taught me about healing, or God, or how to pray. We never grew up in church, nor did I have a church family to be close to. All I knew is alcohol took the pain away, but of course it was temporary. As soon as I got sober, I would begin to think of my past, my life, my guilt, and about you. The pain was unbearable.
All the years that passed, not one single birthday did I not shed a tears for you. You were always on my mind, and in my heart. I had always wondered what your life was like, if you had children, or got married. I hoped you were happier than the life I could have provided for you. I know you feel like my decision in giving you up for adoption was a selfish one and I can understand this but please know that my decision was based on what I felt would have been best for you at the time. If I had it to do over, and times were different I would have loved to have an open adoption, where I could have watched you grow over the years, and we could have exchanged letters and pictures, but back in the 1970’s there was no such thing as an open adoption.
When I received the very first phone call from you in 1995, I am so sorry my first response was to hang up the phone. This is not anything you deserved, nor did you do anything wrong. I was just completely shocked, and I wasn’t sure what to say. I am so sorry I hung up on you. When you called back, I had a little time to get myself together. I decided to let you know that “YES, I am the person you are looking for”, because I felt like you deserved to know the truth. For me it was facing my fears, because I was still so very ashamed of the circumstances that brought you into this world. I never forgave myself. An enormous amount of guilt went with me for my entire life after you were born, and for you to call, it just hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt so sad deep down, but it had nothing to do with you personally. It was nothing I wanted you to feel. After hearing your voice for the first time, I was in complete shock, because after all those years, 21 at the time I always had you on my mind but I never knew what happened to you. I am so sorry I didn’t keep my word on sending you the letters and pictures I promised you. Again, the pain was so unbearable; I was doing well to get by day to day. I never mean to hurt you.
When I gave you up for adoption this created a lifelong pain deep in my heart that no one understood. I was not able to grieve because everyone I knew that knew about you kept saying, “You are doing the best thing for your baby, now it’s time to move on with your life”. The pain was so deep, the only way to escape was by drinking alcohol, and it would get me by day to day. This was all I knew. Deep down I had a piece of my heart missing, and that piece was you.
When I spoke to you for the first time on the phone, and I promised to call you and send letters and pictures, I began to feel very overwhelmed and it was like a sense of darkness from my past came over me. This darkness wasn’t you, it was me and my poor decisions in bring you into this world under the circumstances you were conceived under. I felt such an incredible sense of guilt and shame; I just didn’t know what to say to you. This is the only reason I didn’t keep my word. I am so sorry because you didn’t deserve that. I don’t blame you for searching for your half-sister, and finding her and contacting her. I think I would have done the same if I was you. She knew nothing about you, but I am glad you all are building a relationship because you deserve to have her in your life, and she deserves to have you in hers. I really wanted to be the one to tell her about you, but you beat me to it, and that is okay.
When I got the phone call from her, saying you found her my heart sank. Now the secret was out, and I couldn’t back out of it or deny it. I know some might have just lied, but I didn’t. I confessed to her, “Yes, I had a child and gave her up for adoption”. Her first response was that she wanted us to both meet you. She told me she was flying to Kentucky to meet you, and I just told her I wasn’t quite ready yet. She didn’t understand why, but I didn’t feel I had to explain it to her. I was never good with my emotions, and I was never good at expressing myself. I just wasn’t ready yet. I needed some more time. I knew why, it was because I was still feeling such guilt and such a huge amount of shame that I just wasn’t ready yet.
When I became ready to meet you, and your sister set up the meeting I was a nervous wreck, but I came to a point where I knew I needed to meet you, not only for you, but for me too. I am so sorry when I saw you for the first time I didn’t reach out and hug you right away, I was so nervous and I didn’t know what to do. I wish now, I would have reached out and hugged you and never let you go, because after all that was what you deserved. This was such a painful time for me, as I know it was for you too. When we sat at my dining room table and you told me your adoptive parents divorced a year after you were born, it just crushed me. The overwhelming sense of sadness this brought to me was devastating. This was not what I had planned on for you. I gave you up for adoption so you could be raised in a two parent home, by a loving family that wanted to adopt a baby. Not for them to divorce a year later, and for you to have a very hard life as you mentioned. This just added to my pain and guilt. I just couldn’t stand the fact that you had a hard life. When I gave you up for adoption I wanted you to have a better one. After you left from our visit when we met the first time, the sadness came back and it was overwhelming. It added to the already sense of guilt and shame I had from the beginning. Now I had to face the fact that I gave a baby up for adoption, and she didn’t have a wonderful life like I planned. This was the reason I never saw you again. It was just too much for me to bear. The guilt and shame was just too much.
I want you to know that it was nothing that you did to deserve this situation you were dealt. You didn’t ask to be born, and you most certainly didn’t ask to be given up for adoption. I always hoped you had the best life out there, which was more than what I could give. I never realized until now the pain that being adopted has brought you. I am so very sorry you have felt that you were abandoned. This is not what I planned for you. Please my sweet daughter; know that deep in my heart I just wanted what was better for you.
Sometimes in life things don’t go as planned, and when your adoptive parents divorced that was not in the plan. I know you never had a bond with your adoptive mom as you mentioned, and I am so sorry for that. I hoped she would be a wonderful mother, and love you with her whole heart. That is what I had planned for you. I am so sorry you have always felt like you didn’t fit in, or that you were alone in this world. That breaks my heart, and that is not what I want for you. Please remember you were always in my heart, and you have never left it. Not even for a minute.
You said you wondered if I knew if you were at my bedside when I was in the ICU, after I fell down the steps. Yes, I knew you were there. I never contacted you to tell you, but I knew you came to Iowa to see me. They thought I was going to die, but I made it. I never intended for that to be the last time you saw me alive. I wish I could have told you “I love you”, but I was in a coma and I couldn’t say a word. I don’t even remember falling down the steps, because alcohol had such a hold on me, I was in a deep black out when this happened. I want to say “Thank You” for coming to the hospital, because I never got to tell you before.
17 years passed, and you reached out to me, and I never reached back. I got your letters, and pictures and cards in the mail, but I could never get up enough courage to respond. This is nothing you did, I just felt so guilty about the situation, and I didn’t know what to say or how to say it. You didn’t deserve this, and you deserved more than what I allowed myself to give. I am so sorry for that.
At the end of my life, in 2010 I hadn’t spoken to your sister in over 3 years. I had developed COPD, and I became very sick. I was on oxygen 24/7, I was less than 100lbs, I smoked and I was all alone in my home. I was unable to care for myself, or my home, and I became someone that was just alone and I didn’t even let those that wanted to help me come inside. I was too embarrassed of my home, as over years it developed such a sense of darkness, and sadness I never wanted anyone to see what my life was really like. My home didn’t have any running water, I had holes in my windows with plastic and tape to cover the holes, and I hadn’t had anything new in my home sense the 1970’s. I kept it completely dark, with all the curtains drawn, because this way I couldn’t see how filthy and dirty it was. At the end of my life, I had no energy to tend to it, so the dust and filth became unbearable. I didn’t want anyone to see that, so I shut everyone out, even those that tried to help me. The only comfort I had at the end of my life was alcohol. I kept it close at hand, and it got me through each day of sadness I felt.
I want you to know that I didn’t mean for your feelings to get hurt when you weren’t listed in my obituary. I am so sorry they did. I had my funeral planned out to a tee, and I didn’t list you as my daughter or your children as my grandchildren because so many people didn’t know about that painful part of my life. I did my best to hide it, because I was afraid of what people might think. You see Pamela; I took that pain to my grave. Never once did I forgive myself for the events that happened to bring you into this world. I was so filled with shame and guilt but it was nothing to do with you. It was the decisions I made before you were even born and I have never forgiven myself for that. I know you drove 10 hours to be at my funeral, and even if I wasn’t ready to accept you in my life, you were always in my heart.
As I close this letter, I would really like you to know that I’m so very sorry that you didn’t have the chance to know your biological father because of my irresponsible decisions. I am so sorry you didn’t get to know your biological siblings growing up, and I am so very sorry you felt such a loss your whole life. From the bottom of my heart I would like to ask for you to forgive me for my decision in placing you up for adoption. I would like for you to try to understand where I was coming from, and please understand that I never have or never will stop thinking about you. You are in my heart, and always have and always will be.
I also want to tell you how very proud I am of you that you made the decision to stop drinking alcohol and start a 12 step program. I know this is the best thing you could ever do for yourself, and your kids, and grandkids. I might still be alive right now if alcohol wasn’t such a big part of my life.
No one deserves to carry the pain you have been carrying. As I learn to forgive myself I would like to ask you if you have it in your heart to forgive me?
One piece of advice I have for adoptees that have searched, and are about to be reunited with their biological parents or family is to TAKE NOTES. Everything they say and everything you see, take notes. Listen harder, and listen closer.
I say this because when I met both my biological parents, I didn’t expect for it to be the last time I saw them. I was sure in my mind that they wanted a relationship with me, because after all I dreamed about that my whole life. Why wouldn’t they want to get to know me? Or have me in their lives?
The first time I met my biological mother, we sat at her dining room table. She had her sister there, and her best friend. Her sister would be my biological aunt. My half biological sister was there, and she is the one who arranged the meeting. My birth mother didn’t really want to meet me, but my birth sister insisted. She knew how much it meant to me that I meet the woman that gave me life.
For those that don’t know. I found my birth mother in 1995 when I was 21 years old. My adoptive mom told me some information she had been keeping from me for a life time, so from that moment forward I had a name and there was nothing anyone could do to stop me from finding this woman. This was in my mind, but no way did I ever believe that she really never wanted to see me. After I found her, she hung up on me, and then I called back. The hang up hurt, but that wasn’t stopping me. I was very persistent in finding her, and I wasn’t taking no for an answer. Not yet. After she answered again, I made sure she knew I didn’t want anything from her. I only wanted to get to know her. After this, she spoke up and said “I am the woman you’re looking for”. I was ecstatic. The search was finally over! Finally! It’s been a lifetime of dreaming, and searching for faces in a crowd, wondering if everyone that had similarities as me just might be my biological family. We talked for a few minutes, and she told me she would respond to a letter if I write her. She said she would send me some pictures of herself so I could see what she looked like. So I could finally see who I look like. Of course I hung up the phone with extremely high hopes that I would get some mail from her in the near future. I quickly started to write her, and got an envelope to send with some pictures of me in it. I sent it off, and waited, and waited, and waited. Weeks passed into months. Every single day I would rush to the mail box, looking for the letter she promised. This turned into a very hard time in my life. Why didn’t she want anything to do with me? Why didn’t she keep her word? Did she realize how bad this hurt my feelings? I was crushed.
Finally it was made clear to me that she wasn’t going to keep her word. I knew from the first time I talked to her I had a half biological sister, but she told me she didn’t know anything about me, and she would tell her and be in touch. Obviously that was not the truth, so after I waited months on her reply I decided to set out on a search for my birth sister. I didn’t have a number but I did have an address. I figured I had nothing to lose at this point. No one’s dirty little secret was going to stop me from finding my roots. Whoevers genes I have they are some very persistent ones. I wrote my birth sister a letter, and within a few days I received a call from her, and within a few days after that she flew to Kentucky with her husband so we could meet. It was the first time in my life I finally had someone that was a biological relative that looked like me; besides my precious daughter that was 1 at the time. It was an amazing experience. We have a lot of similarities and you can tell we are sisters. We do have different fathers. She spent a week in Kentucky, and it was wonderful getting to know her. She flew back to Iowa where her and my birth mother lived and she insisted that when I come to Iowa a visit, that we arrange a meeting so I can meet my birth mother. My birth mother agreed, even thoe we hadn’t had any more contact sense the original phone conversation. She never did write, or send pictures.
So the visit was arranged, and my life would never be the same. I just wish I would have absorbed more of what she was saying. I had no idea I would never be given that chance again. Never in a million years did I think I would never have a face to face conversation with her again. If I had it to do all over again, I would have taken notes on every detail she told me.
I must say I am VERY thankful that I was given the chance to sit down with her at her table that one and only time, because I know that so many don’t get that chance. I have spent so many years being angry at her for not giving me more, for not wanting me in her life, for shutting me out after this one visit. I have been angry for many years about many things to do with my adoption. I have to come to a point where I can get past the anger and I hope one day I will. Every single time I think of her and my birth father, I just whelp up and cry. It’s really hard for me to just act as if they don’t exist, or as if I’m not supposed to love them or have a bond with them.
If I could give one piece of advice to any adoptive parents that might be reading this it would be to give your adoptive child permission to grieve the family they had before you. And yes, no matter what way you want to look at it, they have a first family. If you try to cover this up, and ignore these facts you are only doing damage to your child. Please be realistic in this matter. Your child isn’t going to come to you and ask “Is it okay if I love my first mother?” or “Is it okay that I cry because I want to know my first family but I don’t know who they are? Please allow them permission to grieve this, because it is one of the biggest losses of their lifetime. It is over looked so much, and I’m positive that is why I am having such a hard time at this point in my life. Just now at 38 years old I am grieving what could have been, the lost relationships, my first family. This is not an easy journey. I beg for you to discuss these things with your adoptive child. It’s critical that you go to them and the words come out of your mouth as their adoptive parents. They will remember later in life that you expressed to them that it was OKAY to love their other mother, and their other family. Can you imagine living an entire lifetime having to keep such things “Secret”? This is why so many adult adoptees voice their journeys, because we can finally be heard.
With all that being said, yes I am going through the grieving process, yes I am still angry and I have every right to be. I will say that as I grieve, write, express myself and ask God for healing daily I am able to see things in a different light. But this can only happen if we are allowed to grieve the trauma, and events that have been so traumatic on us before we were adopted, and many of us after we were adopted. Acknowledging these traumas is the first step. I recommend any adoptive parents, or anyone touched by adoption to read “Primal Wound” by Nancy Newton Verrier. She explains the adopted child like no one ever has before.
I pray that in a year you will be able to read my blogs, and go back to the very beginning and see the change that has been made. God is working, and he isn’t through with me yet.
P.S. When and if you ever get the chance to meet your biological family, take notes. My biological mother passed in 2010 and the only face to face conversation I ever had with her was the original one in 1995. Take notes.
The reason I’m asking is because I think its important for everyone to know how it feels for an ADULT ADOPTEE to be ADOPTED. I think we can really learn some things from one another, as well as share our insights with the world, adoptive parents, and birth parents, as well as with other adoptees in general.
My interest in this topic is based on a book I recently purchased called “How it feels to be adopted” by Jill Krementz. In her book are many small stories from young adolescent adoptees, or even some children all from ages 8-16. I was enjoying reading this book, but I couldn’t help but wonder what their responses will be later on in life? Will they still feel the same about their adoption experience? I’m sure some will, and some won’t.
I would love for my fellow adoptee friends to help me with this project. I was wondering if you would write a paragraph, how every big you would like, or how ever small you would like on what it feels like to be adopted now that you are an adult?? Would you mind taking a few minutes to do that? I want to post this on my blog, FB “Like” Page, and my twitter so others can understand a little better on HOW IT FEELS TO BE ADOPTED.
If you would respond to this post, that would be great but if you want to remain annonymous please email your response to howdoesitfeeltobeadopted@gmail.com and put “How it feels to be adopted” in the subject line. Also put “Annonymous” at the end if you want to remain annonymous. If you would like to respond on our “Like” page, here is the link.
I received a Facebook message in 2010 from my 1/2 biological sister whom hadn’t spoken to me in over 13 years. Not by my choosing, she shut me out and I still to this day have no idea why she is the way she is. Not only did my birth mother not want anything to do with me, but after I found and was reunited with my birth sister she too shut me out. I never understood because when I first found her, she was ecstatic she had a long lost sister she said she always dreamed of. She invited me to be in her wedding, our children met one another, and it was the first time in my life I felt a true connection with someone with the same blood as me ever in my life. I can’t tell you the sense of joy I had knowing I had a big sister, that I could look up too, get advice from, be close with, and share stories with.
After a few years of meeting her as I would reach out she wouldn’t reach back. Over and over I would try to keep in touch, and she wouldn’t return my calls, letters, emails nothing. This honestly broke my heart a million times, and I never understood WHY. I always thought I did something to offend her, or upset her but I didn’t know what. I was clueless.
Not many years before my birth mother passed away I had basically given up hope that we would ever have the relationship I always dreamed we would have. That dream I had sense I was a little girl, sense the day I found out I was adopted. I knew at this point nothing was going to give, but in the back of my mind I think I always had that sense of “Maybe one day she will come around”. I never stopped thinking about her, or praying for her, or wondering what she was doing, especially around my birthday time.
But my birth sister, I never gave up hope, so when I got this inbox message saying my birth mother passed away, I was not only shocked but I was beyond hurt that I had to find out in a Facebook message. My birth sister hadn’t spoke to me in 13 years! She was acting as if our relationship was where it left off 13 years ago. As if the last 13 years went by and I hadn’t tried to reach out to her a million times, and she shut the door in my face, just like my birth mother did. They have no idea how that has hurt me over the years, and words can’t even describe it. Not only did I feel out of place growing up in a house full of strangers, but the biological roots I dreamed of my whole life didn’t even want me around. They didn’t want to know me, love me or have me in their lives. THIS HURT and still does.
When I got the Facebook message my immediate response was angry. I was so angry that she told me the way she did! After a few hours when my anger subsided a bit, I realized that in true honesty she didn’t have to contact me at all. I had to try to pull something positive out of this. In her facebook message she expressed how she really wanted me to be there, and she didn’t think she could do it without me. I had a decision. I could either go, be there for her, and perhaps find some more information out about my birth father whom I also always dreamed about knowing, I could find out more information about my birth mother, and meet some of her life long friends, and meet some more of my biological family OR I could stay home and wish I had went.
After making some arrangements with my job, and for my kids off to Iowa I go. I started off on a 10 hour drive, all alone. Something about taking road trips are always so refreshing but not this time. I was nervous, sad, anxious, and I surly didn’t know what the next few days were going to hold. I was just praying, and talking to God the whole entire way for him to help shine his light on me because I knew I was going to need it to get through the next few days.
Soon I was to arrive in Iowa at my adopted mothers house. It is no secret to anyone in my life that we have never EVER gotten along. We are like night and day, and there has never been a time in my life where I feel close to her, or have a bond with her a mother and daughter are supposed to have. I just all the way missed out on that in life. She is a very different person, and after being almost 40 years old I have come to the conclusion that she is mentally sick, and she is a very ill person. She should have never been given the right to adopt a child, let alone two. She wasn’t and still isn’t capable of being a mother. I will never understand how a couple ends up adopting two children, divorcing a year later leaving these two adopted children to be raised in a very dysfunctional home, by a woman whom doesn’t have the capabilities, strength, guidance or understanding to raise children!
After being at my adopted mothers for a hour or so, we decided to take a trip to the grocery store. I was going to stay all night at her house, then leave very early the next morning to drive to Waterloo, Iowa where my birth mother lived. This is where her funeral was going to be held. I was really a nervous wreck. While we were at the grocery something in me decided I wanted to search for my birth mothers obituary online via my cell phone. When I start searching for something, or someone Its crazy but I get frantic almost obsessed until I find what I’m looking for! I think character trait has a big part on me searching and finding my biological family all on my own. I was obsessed with finding them, and I was never going to give up until I saw them all, even if it meant getting shot by showing up on my birth fathers property unannounced! I was going to find them.
As I Google searching for the obituary, walking around in circles in the grocery store waiting on my adopted mom to take her time shopping, (One of our many differences, she takes all day to shop! I get in and get out!) I finally found the obituary. As I started to read it, my heart started racing more and more. I couldn’t even believe what I was reading. SHE DIDN’T LIST ME ANYWHERE! NO WHERE! SHE DOESN’T HAVE JUST ONE CHILD! SHE WAS A LIER! THIS OBITUARY WAS A LIE! I AM HER DAUGHTER TOO, AND SHE HAS 3 OTHER GRANDKIDS AND WE ARE ALIVE. I DROVE ALL THE WAY TO IOWA TO BE AT HER FUNERAL BUT THEY COULDN’T EVEN LIST ME IN THE OBITUARY OR MY CHILDREN! I WAS SO MAD AND HURT!
I immediately started to cry in the middle of the grocery store. Of course I felt I had to hide it from my adoptive mother, because she just wouldn’t understand. So I kept walking around the store, trying to hide my tears from all the people walking by me. I know that some people might not understand the big deal, or why I was feeling the way I was feeling but when you spend a lifetime fantasizing, dreaming and wishing, and wondering about the very woman that created you, and gave you away to have a “better life” but she doesn’t even list you in her obituary it hurt really bad, and cut like a knife. My mind goes back there, to that time in my life and I still cry thinking about it. I don’t understand how someone can give their child away, and act as if they didn’t even exist. I will never understand it.
After I finally got myself together in the grocery, I would soon see my adoptive mother again. She knew by the tears in my eyes something was wrong. She asked, and I told her. I started to cry again. I just walked away from her and told her I would be in the car. In no way did I want her sappy ass rubbing me on my back making it worse! She always made everything worse!
Soon the very next morning had arrived, and it was time to set out on my hour long drive to the very city where I was born, and given away. To the very city my biological mother, and half of my biological family lived. It was a very bitter sweet drive, and time in my life. Something about discovery of your roots, and where you come from is almost eerie to me, and I have done all this alone and I can look back now and rejoice that I had a relationship (And still do) with God, my higher power for hugging me and holding me the entire way. I’m blessed and thankful for that.
My birth sister and her husband moved from Iowa to Arkansas, so they too had to travel back to Iowa for the funeral.I arrive at the hotel where my birth sister and her husband and kids were staying I was a nervous wreck. I hadn’t seen her in ALONG time! I hadn’t talked to her in 13 years, but I hadn’t seen her in about 16 years. I parked my car, and head in to the hotel. Knock on her hotel door, and see her face, and we gave each other a big hug. It was great to see her, and I realized that I couldn’t focus on the past, and be upset with her that for whatever reason she shut me out for the last 13 years. I was still hurt, but I had to make a decision to not focus on that. She expressed to me how bad she wanted me there, and how thankful she was that I came. I got to hug and see my niece and nephew, one I had never met before. I was very excited about that, but yet I was deep down very sad that so many years had passed and they really didn’t even know me. It’s not my fault and if I had it my way It wouldn’t be like that. I would have never been separated from any of them ever if I had it my way. I would have grown up in the same house as her, and we would have been close sisters growing up. She gave me a card, and we all headed over to the funeral home for my biological mothers visitation.
The card was an apology for her being absent for the last 13 years. She was very nice in the card, and she expressed how she was sorry that this tragic event is what brought us together again. She said in the past, I was the one to reach out and she failed. She hoped this would be a new beginning to our relationship. I was happy about the card, and I was happy I was getting to see her, and spend some time with her. I was deeply saddened that so much time had passed, and I really didn’t know when I was going to see her again. Was it going to be another 13 years?
My birth sister and my birth mother hadn’t spoke in over 3 years. So I wasn’t the only person they didn’t reach out too. They didn’t even reach out for each other. My birth sister said many times that my birth mother was an alcoholic. She said after her and her husband and children left Iowa, they went back for a visit at Christmas time only for my birth mother to not open the door for her, or her children on Christmas morning. I really don’t know the whole story, or my birth mothers reasoning, but I am sure my birth sister had a very good reason for being upset with her. A long drive from Arkansas to Iowa and your own mother doesn’t open the door? Shame on her. I would be furious too. I can’t say what I would do, but she didn’t speak to her for 3 years. When she did have contact with her again, it would be to bury her.
We soon set out to head to the funeral home. I really didn’t know what to expect. I know from the moment I walked in there, to the time I left I felt so out of place. I knew my birth sister wanted me there, but there is no way my birth mother wanted me there. I was her best kept secret. I knew this for certain. We went in for the viewing. I was shocked at what I saw. My birth mother that was in her mid 60’s and looked as if she was much older. She was wearing a blue jean button up Christmas shirt, glasses and had a few rings on her fingers. She was always lean and long. Her fingers looked like my fingers. I wanted so bad to ask if I could have one of her rings on her fingers, but I didn’t dare. After all I felt as if I was a nobody. I really would to have loved it for sentimental reasons. I had nothing of hers, absolutely nothing. Nothing but a broken heart from this woman. Time after time, and year after year I wanted on her calls, mail, only to receive broken promises after broken promises.
As we sat in the front row, I sat right next to my birth sister. I really felt like her husband should be sitting by her but I respect the fact that she let me sit next to her, and that she acknowledged the fact that I was her daughter too, and I had every right to be there just like she did.
My birth mother planned her service out down to the very last minute. She had someone get up and speak about her life, and some of the things she loved. Rod Stewart, Nascar, Elvis, and some other things. He spoke about her daughter, Joanna and her 3 grand kids from Arkansas. I honestly sat there and wept not only because I was deeply saddened, but because she once again didn’t acknowledge that I was her daughter. Some of you might say, “Well DUH Pamela! She gave you away! You were no longer her daughter!”. You would think it wouldn’t be so hard for me to just “GET IT”, or “GET OVER IT”, but I will never forget that time in my life when they clearly made me feel as if I was nothing. I wonder if she knew how much pain she caused me? I wonder if she even cared? People shouldn’t have to go through life being rejected and denied from the very people that created them.
This is the song that she had requested be played at her funeral. I will never in my life forget this song. I cry every time I hear it, and can’t help but wonder what part of her giving me up for adoption had an impact of her and her life, and this song. If you listen to the words, (please do!) you will understand what I’m talking about. Was I one of the many regrets she is speaking about? I stayed around after the service, so I could meet some of her friends, and some biological family. It was really hard to get through this time in my life. I was thankful I had my birth sister there, but yet she was still so far away. I didn’t know any of those people. My birth sister kept introducing me as “This is my sister, my mom gave up for adoption!”. I really didn’t know what to think, but I was thankful she was even introducing me at all. I had to be thankful I was even there at all because she didn’t have to invite me, or tell me if she didn’t want too. As I got to know some of my birth mothers friends, they all expressed to me how stubborn she was, and how she was very strong willed. She was set in her ways, and no matter what in life she did it her way!
I met my birth mothers best friend, and she knew my birth mother the time she was pregnant with me. She said she remembers her giving me up for adoption. No way did anyone at the funeral try to console me, and what I was going through. I don’t think any of them understood my pain at all. I asked her if she knew any information about my biological father, but she declined. I asked her if she drank when she was pregnant with me, and she said, “Honey I never saw her without a drink in her hand”. I guess I’m supposed to be grateful for that just like I am that I’m adopted. I spoke to a few other people, and met a biological aunt. One aunt that I had met the first time I met my birth mother wasn’t there. I asked about her, but everyone said she was sick, and couldn’t come. I asked my birth sister if we could go visit her, because I realized this might be my last chance at finding out more information about my biological father. On the way to her house I asked my birth sister if we could go by my birth mothers house. She said, “Oh you don’t want to go over there!”. I said, “Yes, I do, I really do”. Off we go.
When my birth mother died, she passed away from alcoholism, and COPD. She smoked, and was on oxygen, and she was an alcoholic all at the same time. These are the things that killed her. I believe alcoholism is what really killed her. Everyone at her funeral said for the last few years of her life, she wouldn’t let anyone in her house, NO ONE. The neighbors would come to bring her food, or try to help her shovel snow in the winter, or help her with a leaking roof and her response to everyone that came to her door was ” GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE!”. I had no idea what to expect when we arrived at her house. I remember walking up to the front door, her house almost looked like a little cottage but you could tell it had some major repairs that needed done, but you didn’t really see it until you walked inside. Her front door had broken glass through the front window, and she had news paper, and duct tape and a piece of plastic over it to keep the cold out. As we walked in I just got such an eerie feeling. This was the house that my birth mother lived in for many many years. It wasn’t the house she was pregnant with me at, but it was the house that my birth sister grew up in. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw how dusty everything was. The dust was literally an inch thick. I looked over to the left, and saw another broken window covered just like the other one. Also to the left was about 6 oxygen tanks, all empty. She had papers and clutter all over her dining room table, and hutch. As you walked in further I saw the couch that she was found on. The old dusty mantel, and drapes matched the couch. The whole place looked like a scene from a 1975 movie. NOTHING WAS UPDATED! Everything was so old, and dusty. It was filthy, and the floor was covered with garbage, and junk. The carpet looked like it was 30 years old, and I’m not even kidding. It was so cold in there, and I will never forget the feeling I got when I was in her house. It was so dark, and dingy. Complete filth couldn’t even touch it. I saw a little green paper weight on her coffee table, shaped like a small elephant. I kindly asked my birth sister if she cared if I have it. She said, “Sure take it”. This small paper weight is the only thing I will ever own that was my birth mothers. My birth sister took me through the house, and it’s hard for me to explain the feeling I got. After we noticed no running water, and rat droppings all over, we decided it was time to go. That house should have been condemned in my opinion.
Some people might be saying,”WOW- and you aren’t HAPPY she gave you up for adoption?”. NO, No I’m not. I would have taken my birth mother any way she came. I would have loved to be with my biological roots, even if she made mistakes as a mother, I would have forgiven her. All of her mistakes and errors in life wouldn’t change the fact that she gave birth to me. I will never stop thinking about her, or wishing I knew her. I will always love the woman I never got to know.
After we left my birthmothers house, we headed over to visit my aunt for a few minutes. When we arrived the house was filled with smoke, and we could smell that she had been smoking. Its amazing that the crazy part is she looked at both of us and said “I quit smoking awhile back”.. Even thoe we smelled right through that lie. This was my birthmothers sister. She was also a smoker, and on oxygen suffereing from COPD which is what my birth mother died from. After we visited a few minutes, I got up enough nerve to ask her if she knew who my birth father was. I thought I had nothing to loose. She ended up giving me a name, and told me a little about my birth father. Now I recieved confirmation who he was and where he lived. A month after visiting my biological aunt she passed away from COPD. I look back and I’m in awe the way God set it up. Not that I wanted her to die, but he let me find out my confirming information about my birthfather before she passed away, and it meant so much to me to be able to see her one last time.
Leaving Waterloo, Iowa was a bitter sweet moment for me, but so was my experience after I drove to my birthfathers door step. Leaving Iowa on this trip I made a very brave decision. I could either drive back to Kentucky and never see who my birth father was, or I could drive 3 hours out of the way and show up at his door step and introduce myself. I was able to receive some confirming information while I was in Waterloo about my birth father. I prayed, and God answered my prayers. I drove 3 hours out of the way to his house, but I only stayed 45 minutes. I left Leon, Iowa and my life would never be the same.
Don’t you understand.. If I could see my adoption experience as a wonderful thing, I WOULD!
If I could just let go of the pain it has caused me, I WOULD!
If I could just fill the empty hole deep inside me, I WOULD!
If I could just take back my “Adoptee Status”, I WOULD!
If I could learn to bond with other people in a more profound way, I WOULD!
If the fear of rejection would just leave my body, I WOULD BE HAPPIER!
If I could explain how I feel without getting interrupted just one time, I WOULD!
If I could shake you so you understand my pain, I WOULD!
This is not the choice I picked for me, and my life. This wasn’t my choice at all. But now I have a choice what I’m going to do with this mess!
I’m going to help other adoptees, BECAUSE I CAN!
I’m going to learn how to cope with my wounds that are so deep, BECAUSE I CAN!
I’m going to use my God given ADOPTEE VOICE, BECAUSE I CAN!
I’m going to pray EVERYDAY that God help me get through another test, trial, or tribulation!, BECAUSE I CAN!
I will share my view, and opinion on my experience growing up in a closed adoption with other adoptive parents, so maybe they have a little glimpse of what their adopted child is maybe going through, BECAUSE I CAN!
I can understand what other adoptees are feeling, and going through, BECAUSE I AM ONE OF THEM!
Please don’t judge me, or any other adoptee for that matter, if you are not one of us. If you didn’t get torn from your biological roots, which are the very roots that define you as a person then you have no idea what its like to be adopted.
Please don’t judge me as being negative because my adoption experience is not a wonderful one, think about the fact that maybe adoption isn’t as pretty as you have thought it was?? That is possible.
I will continue to share my adoption experience with the world,
I keep reminding myself, that God is controlling this whole show, so I have to sit back, and let him and stop trying to control it myself.
On Aug 12, 2012 I decided I had enough alcohol in my life to last me a lifetime. I started reading The Big Book on August 15th. Started attending my my first AA meeting in my area on Aug 18, 2012. I started attending Celebrate Recovery at my church soon after, and today I am celebrating 39 days sobriety! I am in complete amazement. I am in the process of retraining my brain from all the things I have always done, to new and different exciting things.
The God starts placing people in my life and events that I truly need. For me to face the adoption issues head on, and have someone close to me to help me do it is an amazing thing, but I must admit I am pretty scared. I know how I feel about adoption, and I know how a lot of adopted parents feel about adoption, and I’m praying this won’t create some sort of clash between me and this wonderful woman, who I can now call a friend. I pray that God gives me the right words to use, and the right things to say so that maybe I can help her understand a little better of what her adopted son might be going through, or what he might face in the future. I think God has put us in each others lives for many reasons.
This is the newest event in my life. I am very blessed and thankful to be here, and can’t wait to see what the future has in store for me.I am living walking proof there is a God and there is nothing anyone can say or do to make me believe otherwise.
As I was getting ready to head to an 8:00pm AA meeting last night, and as I looked in the mirror to get ready, curling my hair it dawned on me. I was REALLY getting READY to go to an AA meeting on a Saturday night. I was in total amazement that this was really happening. I was thinking in the back of my mind, “Watch the roof cave in!”. LOL I was in shock myself.
I recall many of nights, especially weekends where I look in that same mirror to get ready to go to happy hour, or to go out with my friends and drink. So many times I could never even dream of counting. I finished getting ready, and I told my kids what I was doing. I gave them hugs and kisses and told them I would be back. It was another crazy moment for me, because so many times I would go out and drink with my friends, and when they would ask me when I was coming home, I would reply, “I’m grown, I don’t have a time, but I will be back, Love u!”. And it seems like that no matter when or where I went, that time was always later and later.
This time was different. I hugged them tight, and let them know I will be back around 10:30pm at the latest. This made me feel great that I not only was going to do something productive, but I was able to keep my word to my kids, and I did return home but it was a little after 10:30pm. It was closer to 11:00pm, but that’s because I went with some friends to have coffee, but my kids knew I was on my way.
I stopped to get gas. I went in, paid and got a diet 7-Up. I came out and had another moment where I was amazed that I wasn’t coming out with a 12 pack of beer like I have so many millions of times before. It was another little form of what I call “VICTORY”. It was a smile in my heart, but no one knew it but me.
I was excited to come home sober, and go to bed sober, All though the coffee had my heart racing when I was trying to go to sleep, but that’s okay. I should have known better than to drink it that late anyway. 🙂 It was worth it.
I was nervous getting my 30 day token (35 days today), because I’m sort of shy standing up in front of people I don’t know, but something about this group I have been going to downtown has just won my heart. I am such a home body, and I have been trying to go to meetings in my area, because it’s closer travel wise, but going downtown gets me out of my comfort zone, and takes me to an area I love. Downtown. I love the vibe and the business of it, the flow of traffic, and people everywhere. Most of the time people are friendly. Coffee shops, and small cafes. My heart is downtown, and you can have a lot of fun downtown with no money at all.
So after I received my 30 day token, the guy gave me a hug, and everyone clapped for me. I can’t tell you the new found freedom I felt when everyone said, “Congratulations, Keep comin back!”. They really made me feel like home. I decided to make this group my home group. Put my name in the Birthday Book, (Sobriety Date) which for me is my new “Birth” day. That is the date I started LIVING and it cancels out the date my birth mother gave me away. I’m very happy with this, and I believe in my whole heart, that God has this under control.
One other thing I’m realizing is that certain friendships are going to die, because I’m not the person I used to be. Things are different, and times have changed. Part of me is sad about this, but another part of me is being at peace that God is going to put new people in my life to take the place of the old, and I have to keep reminding myself of that. Some days are harder than others, but nothing in the future will be any harder then the last 38 years and knowing that, I can smile.
I’m learning from some old timers I’ve met in the rooms, that among the other millions of things I am thankful for, they have reminded me that I’m young. They didn’t “GET IT” until they were much older than me. I still have so much life left to live, and I am totally on the right track, with positive purpose on my mind. I have met some people that have hit rock bottom to where they have been homeless and lost everything, and they have the spirit that soars with JESUS in their lives like you wouldn’t ever imagine! I find that AMAZING! I mean literally walking miracles, and if they can feel that, and speak that, and BE THAT then I can too!
TODAY: I am so thankful for AA and Celebrate Recovery, and all the people God is putting in my life.
I just wanted to let you all know I am taking a little more time doing some writing and not through a keypad, a key board, a phone. I’m writing with a plane ole pen and paper. 🙂
I’ve decided that I’m going to join NAMN- National Association of Memoir Writers, and begin the process to write a memoir on my life. What it’s been like being adopted in the closed adoption era, growing up in a single parent home, wondering and searching for my biological family and then being rejected by the ones that should love me the most. I want to share how God has rescued me from my destructive past, and how the one that that I always counted on, relied on,and couldn’t do with out is no longer a part of my life. That one thing is “ALCOHOL”.After knowing that BOTH of my biological parents are/were alcoholics, I have decided I’m going to break the generational curse. God has restored me, and I must tell it to the world. How did I get to this point? It’s not going to be an easy journey, but sense when was life easy?
Instead of being signed onto my Twitter and Facebook on my cell phone, I’m signing out, and I’m going to have my pen and paper handy so I can write my little heart out. I will still be in the Social Media world, and you will still see me from time to time, but if you ever wondered where I’m at, I’m working the 12 steps, and the 12 principles. I’m going to AA meetings, and Celebrate Recovery. I’m also in a Celebrate Recovery Step Study that is amazing. I’m meeting every Friday with a temporary sponsor to help me with working the steps, and she is AWESOME! I will also be writing. God is doing some amazing things in my life.
National Association of Memoir Writers has a ton of resources available on their site, and if you become a member, it’s all free. Teleseminars, Workshops, EBooks, Writing Tips/Tricks, Instructional Videos, and a HUGE network of memoir writers to communicate with. I’m learning how a memoir is suppose to be formatted, and what you should and shouldn’t include. How to weave the stories, and how to captivate your readers to continue reading.
Honestly it might take me a few years, but I’m starting now, one day at a time. This has been one of the things I have had on my mind of doing for about 6-8 months now. Because alcohol is no longer a part of my life, I’m able to cherish every single morning (and moment) that God brings me,and I can wake up with a clear mind, AND WRITE!
I have thought so many times about finding an adoptee support group in my area, but there is none.
This is no good. I have done so much healing just by being in contact with other adoptees online, and via my blog and twitter. What about those that don’t know about those things? What about those that are just as confused as ever with their adoption feelings but they don’t know where to begin with the healing process? Wouldn’t it be amazing to have a place to go to be able to share those things, and meet and fellowship with other adult adoptees? I sure think it would be
If anyone would be interested in participating in a support group for Adult Adoptees in Lexington, KY please email your information to:
Revelation ESV 21:4 “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”
Pamela A. Karanova 