Writing My Wrongs

No Pom Poms for Me

"March on. Do not tarry. To go forward is to move toward perfection. March on, and fear not the thorns, or the sharp stones on life's path.  - Kahlil Gibran

So I told her I would process and I am. I have read her email over and over and each time it seems less intense and emotional and rather of matter of fact and dry. Why did it make me cry so much the other night?

I am at a loss of what to do next. What do I say next? How to proceed? Do I respond? Ask for clarification? Clarify things I believe she is totally off base on?

Or do I just leave it alone? Leave her alone?

I am at a complete loss. I vacillate between wanting to write back a lengthy reply to wanting to ask a simple question "What do you want me to do?". I ponder writing a list of questions that I would like answers to and I quickly scrap that idea.

What I crave is conversation, dialogue, two way, back and forth but I don't want that in email. So much can be misconstrued and misunderstood. We are both strong writers, yes, but even still. It lacks a human element. Tone of voice, body language, and all those other little nuances that come from being in someones presence. I feel I have, at times, misunderstood or misjudged her to due to the cold nature of email. Having learned from that, my fingers feel frozen to reply via email.

My therapist says to be her mother. I laughed out loud in his face. Clearly he should go back and read her words. She doesn't want that. Oh, contraire, he retorts and begins to cite archetypes and what he means by being her mother. On and on he goes and I remind him, rather curtly, that I gave up my rights to do all those things he is suggesting. I further remind him that NO ONE, including her, sees me as her mother, what is the point of acting as such? Its like acting like a clown at a kids birthday party while wearing a tuxedo.  I go on to say that I have no benchmark, no reference point. With my sons, I know them. I know their personalities. I know what makes them sad, happy, and fearful. I know when to leave them on their own and I know when to intervene.

I know how to be their mother.

My daughter? I don't have a clue. I feel I should know SOMETHING about what she wants or needs and I don't.

Some mother I am.

He tries to explain. I shut him down.

And so I wander and spin my emotional wheels and think and cry and sleep and laugh and go on with my life.

I am also angry. Not at her but at something. I am angry at my therapist and a few others for largely the same thing.

I did not get what I wanted or needed from them during this recent interaction.

While certain people in my life (interestingly, those that understand adoption trauma and the pain caused to first moms) were supportive, those that don't understand that entirely were annoying as hell.

My therapist, my sister, a few others, while kind, were all gooey and basking in her fabulousness. I heard nearly the same thing from all of them. "She is brilliant". "She is an excellent writer" "She is this amazing thing" "She is that amazing thing" "This is good Suz. This was positive. She was this or that".

Yeah, yeah, I know, shes my kid, okay? She has been amazing since the day I gave birth to her. You are preaching to the choir. Can you focus over here? Hello? Over here. See me? Me. Yeah, me, the curvy woman with crazy red hair?  Can we talk about how I feel and why and not go on and on about her?

My therapist was literally in awe of her based on her email to me. I wonder if he wants her to come to our next session in lieu of me? (LOL)

And yeah, that was incredibly triggering. Imagine me, post partum, bloody episiotomy, new baby girl and everyone gooing over her and forgetting that I am bleeding and aching behind them. Imagine me spending years of my life in agony and everyone puking up the Adoption is Fabu vomit.

Flashback much?

And furthermore, if it was so good and so positive, while do I feel like shit? Why can't I stop crying? Why is everyone around me waving pom-poms in the adoption reunion arena while I sit still on the bleachers wondering what the hell everyone is so happy about?

She Wrote Me

"Honest disagreement is often a good sign of progress.” -  Mahatma Ghandi

I heard from my daughter last night.

I had written to her to share a situation I thought she should know about and she wrote me back

Its been almost a year since I had heard from her.

I don't want to get much into the exchange. It was tough and emotional and typical adoption reunion correspondence.

I am still processing and I am aching a bit. I am raw.

She asked that if I reference our correspondence that I use her own words and not paraphrase. Specifically, she asked me to use her email unedited and paste it here.

I am not comfortable at this time doing that. I feel protective of her and protective of me. I fear that if I shared her words those that love and support me would feel need to defend me and attack her. I don't want or need that. Her words were honest, raw, emotional, painful, well written, thoughtful, and more. Her feelings are justified considering she is ultimate victim in this adoption nightmare. I am thankful she shared them with me. She is truly amazing. She is tough but amazing and I am proud of her. (As I write that, I am reminded of my own mother. I suspect my own mother would say the same about me. Many of my daughters traits, her honesty, her candidness, her awareness, is tough to handle. I have been told the same about myself and I KNOW I have given my mother more than her share of challenges.)

As such, I will not say much at this time.

I will say that I am very grateful for the blogs and friendship of many adoptees - specifically Joy and StillBorn. I have found you both to be the most raw, articulate, pained adoptees I know and that is likely because something in your written expression reminds me of my daughter. I randomly add and remove Joy and StillBorn from my blog reader as there are times where their pain, their words, is just too much for me to bear. However, last night and this a.m, I found comfort in those words and your experiences. So thank you for sharing.

Also thank you to Margie and my friend Jean for being there for me as well. It is intersting that in my anxiety, confusion and such last night and this a.m, it was the two of them - an adoptive mom and an adoptee - that I reached out to.

I did share my daughters email with Margie and she had some comforting words to share in return. And my Jean, well, she will forever be in my heart and someone special to me. She has her own mama now and I have my daughter but we will forever have our own sort of unique mom/daughter/female/sister relationship.

Many thanks again to Joy, StillBorn, Margie and Jean for being here virtually or online the past twenty four hours.

The Replacements

“The divorced person is like a man with a black patch over one eye: He looks rather dashing but the fact is that he has been through a maiming experience.” - Jo Coudert

I spent Memorial day weekend alone. My sons were scheduled to be with their dad. My mother had asked me to come down and visit. Other friends had invited me to picnics. I decided to stay home.

Putting aside the fact that I needed to plan for the viewing and recovering from watching my daughters graduation, I just really wanted to be alone. I spent Monday decorating the built in china cabinet in my dining room. Again, being a rental I am limited in my ability make custom, personalized changes. This includes colorful painting. All of my previous homes were quite colorful. To give my china cabinet a bit of pizazz I created backers for the shelfs. Very easy. Purchased paper, cut to size, mount with poster putty to the back of shelf. See picture.

I picked up the paper at our neighborhood Michaels Crafts. The store is located very near to my ex husbands home.

On my way back, I stopped by, unannounced, to drop off my sons backpacks. Ex was planning on coming to get them in the morning before school. Since I was in the neighborhood, I thought I would do him a favor and just drop them off.

As I exited my car and popped my trunk, I noted my oldest sons backpack was not there. Assuming I had already been seen, I felt odd to just leave without announcing myself. So I took my youngest sons backpack to the house and my ex husband met me at the door. Actually, he met me outside the door.

That was my first sign.

My second was his statement:

"What are you doing here?".

I explain my intent, how I thought I was doing him a favor, as I step over the threshold of his front door and into his living room.

There in the living room I find my two sons and some woman I have never met.

I was a bit surprised. I felt like I had walked in on someone having sex. My oldest son and the woman sitting on the couch were clearly uncomfortable.

I was startled to see this woman but continued chatting, hugged my boys, told them about the backpacks, why I stopped by and exchanged a few short pleasantries about the weather. Husband never introduced her to me. I could have probably introduced myself but it was very clear who I was since the boys screamed "HI MOM!" as I entered. Awkward. Odd.

I left.

This is the first time since my divorce I have seen my husband - and my sons - in the company of a woman I don't know.

We had agreed during our divorce that if one of us started dating we would tell the other so that we could be prepared to answer the children's questions and possible confusion. I also feel strongly that I have a right to know who my sons are around. Same is true for my ex. It has always been my plan that if I ever date again, I would not introduce that person to my sons unless it was serious. Children need to know how people fit in their lives. I don't want them to be confused and thinking Mommy is out shopping for a new Daddy every time I get asked out (which btw, has only been once in the past year since my divorce). I have no plans on discussing casual dates, male friends, etc. with my sons. It is just my view. However, again, should I get serious, like ever, I would let my ex know so he could be prepared for any backlash or such from the kids.

Considering our agreement on this topic, I was a bit surprised to see this woman there. In later discussions with my ex, he insisted she was just a friend, they weren't dating and I was over reacting. I really wasn't over reacting. In fact, I felt he was more so. He seemed upset that I was taking to the idea of him dating so easily. My only objection was that I did not know so that I could be prepared for the kids. NOT that it might be happening. I was concerned he wasn't sticking to our agreement and that my children may have been exposed to something or someone I was not aware of. My oldest son is incredibly intuitive, sensitive, etc. I  worry about his feelings - a lot.

Again he insisted not dating, not interested, just a friend. I was fine with that. I don't care if he is.

Really.

In explaining this to another friend she says:

"How can you be fine with that? Why doesn't it bother you that your ex-husband may be on the path of replacing you?"

I smiled. I had already thought about this at length. I also wondered why I was not jealous, envious or insecure. My only concern was  the children.

"I have already been replaced and have managed to accept it. My daughter got a new mommy at three days old. I live with that every day. My ex husband having a new woman in his life pales in comparison.  The author Margaret Atwood says that "divorce is like an amputation: you survive it, but there's less of you" I have found that to be very true.  Losing your child to adoption is even worse. Being replaced, ignored, denied and having your name eradicated from a birth certificate tends to make a dating ex husband mean little to nothing. I have survived worse."

She smirked and shook her head.

"Wow. What do I say to that?" she asked.

"Say you agree and get me another cup of coffee" I said.

Hairy Conversations

The hair is the richest ornament of women.  ~Martin Luther

An new haircut is calling me.

It has been nearly three months since I had a cut and color. That is a record for me. The house sale, move, moms surgery, and sons surgery, put my hair addiction on the back burner. It has now gotten so bad (dark roots are evil things) that I am feeling physically ill from it. I feel rather trailer park trashy with a few inches of dark roots, washed out cooper highlights and frayed ends.

I have quite a relationship with my hair. A first mom in Texas said I take my emotions out on it. That made me laugh. In some ways that is very true. In other ways, it is merely the fact that for me, it is yet another canvas I can work on. It is amusing to me that I am rather well, bold, with my hair which tends to cause people to notice me and comment. I greatly dislike this. I am the type that prefers to be lost in a sea of people and not stick out. Yet, that is not the image I project. My hair colors, my crazy jewelry selections, my piercing and tattoos clearly say "look at me". Perhaps it is the Gemini in me. The hair coloring twin is the one that likes to be noticed. The silent twin just wants to be left alone to skulk around in a corner.

My hair has been:

• my natural color (which is some sort of dark brown with strong red highlights -but don't quote me on that since I have not seen that color in over 30 years)
• black
• chocolate brown
• blonde
• beige ( It was more like taupe and it wasn't intended to be that way. However, it did match my shoes I owned that time so I worked with it)
• red
• cranberry/burgundy
• red with blonde chunks
• burgundy with copper chunks
• peach (yes, you know, that color the old lady sitting in the pew in front of you in church has in her hair?)
• and variations in between.

I have been this way since I was around twelve and started pouring peroxide and later Sun-In in my ashy brown/auburn hair. My mother, at one time a professional hair stylist, was all too eager to indulge me. She turned me on to Clairol, Nice n Easy, Loreal and other over the counter bottles of color. These days I get it done professionally every 4 - 6 weeks. Yes, its my little indulgence. Even moms in the maternity home knew this about me. When I found my daughter and discovered she had a hair thing too, a mom friend from the home asked me if there was a hair coloring gene.

I am pondering a medium length, asymmetrical, heavily layered bob of burgundy and copper. This means I will cut about 4-5 inches off the bottom. Maybe more. I want something a bit sassy and funky for the summer.

I discussing this with my oldest son last night he disagreed.

"You should keep it long Mom. It looks better long" he said.

"Well, it wont be too short. Just a few inches, near my shoulders" I respond.

"Long, Mom, it looks better long." He insists as he sharpens a pencil.

"But, Nik, look at these dead ends, its all raggedy. It will look much healthier if I trim it." I explain

Appearing incredibly disinterested, he returns to his math homework. I stand there expecting more dialogue.

"Long?" I ask.

"Mom, I have homework to do. Its your hair. Do what you want. I am a guy, you know? I don't care about that stuff. Too bad sister is not here. She could give you some good advice. She cuts and colors her hair as much as you" he says as his pencil scratches the paper of this math work sheet.

Gulp.

Yes, that is true.

Too bad sister is not here.

Hate from Within

“It is better to be hated for who you are, than to be loved for someone you are not.” - Unknown

In the wake of the Lori Tay viral commenting, I could not help but think of other times I had heard people being incredibly blunt, candid, or outright rude in relation to adoption.  Based on my experience I can assure you that such hurtful comments come to mothers like me from the likes of Lori Tay and our own family and friends.

Consider these true stories.

====

I was talking with another first mom friend the other day. We were discussing childcare. She shared how she despised the idea of nannies and I told her that I hosted au pairs for nearly 8 years. She promptly apologized.

I told her there was no need to apologize. She was entitled to her childcare views for her children just as I was entitled to mine. Truth be told, for me, hosting au pairs was one of the best decisions I ever made. My children benefited greatly and three of our former au pairs (now older woman with children, careers and men of their own) are permanent members of our family. They come back and visit regularly and I would honestly give them keys to my home and they would never have to ask if they could visit. They are always welcome. (Two of them also read here regularly. Hello Germany and Austria!)

In discussing this with my first mom friend, I was reminded of something my former mother in law said to me after she learned of my daughter.  Important to frame this by saying that my mother in law was a stay at home mom. Never had a career and could never have one if she wanted to. She spent nearly sixteen years taking care of her terminally ill daughter.

However, all explanations and excuses aside, she still never liked my career and my childcare choices. When my oldest son was in a daycare she called it the "baby prison". When I removed him from that prison to have in home care (due to his being sick all the time) she brought me news articles of nannies who molested children or left herpes on the bathroom toilet (??). I did my best to ignore it. I understood she came from a different place and time.

However, upon learning of my daughter and having yet another discussion about a pending childcare decision for my sons she said to me:

"Seems to me you like to leave your children to strangers, don't you?"

======

Several months ago I was engaged in an on-line conversation with a BSE mom. She was talking about justice for BSEs'. When I asked her what that meant, specifically, she went silent. I went on further to ask did justice mean a Presidential apology? Something like slave reparations? A monument in Washington? I was being very respectful and really wanted to know what that particular BSE mom considered justice.

Her response to me?

"It is apparently a good thing you surrendered your daughter. You are clearly an idiot".

======

Almost eleven years ago, I stood in my parents kitchen and planned my delivery (pun intended). I was several weeks pregnant and wanted to tell my mother.

In my mothers kitchen stood my mother and my older sister.

I was being coy and opened with

"Oh, MA!" I screamed. "Guess who is pregnant?"

My mother looked up from the sink with delight and said "Who?"

My sister turned and stared and waited for my answer.

"ME!" I said.

It took my mother a few minutes for it to register and then she started crying and hugged me.

My sister sometime later approached me and said:

"I cannot believe you get pregnant again after what you did with your first"

====

While living in Chicago and working for a producer of software for the database publishing market, I was very friendly with a guy named Jim. We spent alot of time together. While the relationship was completely platonic, we were often asked if we were dating. We were not. He was like my brother and I was like his sister.  He eventually moved east for a job transfer and within a rather short period of time I did as well.

I met him once at his place in Mass and during our dinner out I mentioned my daughter. Our friendship was years in the making and I finally felt safe enough to share my daughter existence with him.

After telling him, he got very quiet and changed the subject. I did not get the reaction I expected. Having known him for so long, knowing how sensitive and caring he was, I expected something different. I assumed (erroneously) that his shutting down of the conversation was a way to make me more comfortable. Before I left him that night I invited him to join me at my parents for Thanksgiving dinner. He did not know anyone on the East Coast and he did not plan on going back to WI for the holiday. Being one of my best friends, I invited him to join me.

He smiled and said that was very sweet and he would be happy to attend.

Weeks went by and as Thanksgiving approach I found him hard to reach. I called him and he never returned my calls.

Finally, on the eve of Thanksgiving, I got him on the phone. I was concerned and a tad bit annoyed. I needed to know when to pick him up at the train station.

He hesitated and and finally said:

"I have decided I won't be coming. And honestly, after what you shared the other night, I prefer you not call me again. You are not the type of woman I want to know"

====

If it isn't painfully obvious, this type of crap is yet another thing they don't tell mothers who surrender their children.

The judgment never ends.  We are branded forever.

 

At Least She is Honest

"Honesty: The best of all the lost arts” - Mark Twain

The truth from an infertile, presumably adoptive or prospective adoptive mothers keyboard:

"Anti-adoption advocates hate infertile couples in general, seeing us as the problem. What they fail to realize is that many, many infertile couples have NO desire at all to adopt. For us, adoption would only be a VERY LAST RESORT.

That’s right, birthmothers - your child would be a last resort for us, whether you like that or not. Your child is not the great prize you may think he is. What most of us want most is our own biological child!

Thank God for advances in reproductive medicine. IVF success rates are improving all the time. I predict in the future there will be a lot fewer people adopting or fostering children, because they will be able to have their own child"

Read more at Anti-Adoption. The entire post is here.

Lori Tay might want to be careful. The Agencies that are making buckets of money off of baby selling might not appreciate her honesty.

Conversely, as a mother, I greatly appreciate it. Of course, it comes a little too late. I wish I had been told this 22 years ago.  Perhaps expectant mothers today could read this.

Furthermore, nearly every adoptive adult I know talks about being second best, KNOWING that they were their adoptive parents last choice. I am sure they appreciate that finally someone admits what they knew all along.

Seriously, Lori Tay, honesty is the best policy. Kudos to you for having the gonads to say what so many adoptive parents avoid like the plague.

The Root of Money

“So you think that money is the root of all evil. Have you ever asked what is the root of all money?” - Ayn Rand

A friend sent me an article regarding Ohio legislators considering expenses paid to expectant mothers. Apparently several agencies and prospective adopters are complaining about their inability to properly coerce, ahem, I mean, support the expectant mothers.

Ohio legislators must be smoking something. If they aren't, perhaps they are being wooed by the likes of Seymour Kurtz and his associates.  Maybe someone in the Ohio government is having a hard time adopting.

The idea of adoptive parents or attorneys  providing funds to expectant mothers before, during or after birth is to me highly unethical. It creates a coercive and intimidating situation.

It is not support money. It is insurance. Money used to guarantee the expectant mother surrenders. Money used to intimidate her and remind her of what she doesn't have and those lovely adopters do. Money used to prove how worthy prospective adopters are of her child and she is not. Money used to keep her on a lower rung and those lovely adopters on a higher rung. Money used to buy the baby before it is even born. It is a security deposit. 

Oh, sure, individuals will hide behind gooey altruistic statements that suggest they are just helping some poor mother. More often than not, they are helping themselves. For when that mother they helped decides to keep her child, do they congratulate her and wish her well? No. They scream fraud and scamming and raise holy hell that they did not get the baby. They never cared about the mother. They only cared about the baby she would give birth to. The baby they could then take, rename and whisk away to the burbs to act "as if born to".

There should be no funds at all.

By no means am I suggesting an expectant mother in need of assistance should be forgotten.  I am not. I am however suggesting those funds should come from someone other than those that stand to profit off of a possible adoption transaction.  State welfare, an individual organization, a friend, a family member, someone with NO vested interest in the child being born should help that mother.

Not the salivating agencies, attorneys and adoptive parents.

Frankly, I am quite surprised the problems inherent in providing money to expectant mothers is lost on some folks.

Money creates a situation where mothers can be coerced and intimidated. I know, I was one of them. Prior to being sent from my family home in CT to the lovely State of IL, my mother signed a document obligating her to pay the agency back for any services rendered to me prior to surrender. My mother insists the document said $200.  Funny how that number changed once the agency got me away from my parents, into a maternity home, and under their control.  Even though I was required to work in the home and pay for my rent there, they claimed my rent was subsidized by them. They further said that the lunches the caseworker paid for when she met with me were considered advanced funds.  Some might consider the caseworker visits and such a cost of doing business. Not so for Easter House. There was a return on investment expected.  And lets not forget those regular doctor appts at St. Josephs Hospital. Someone had to pay. 

I paid with my child.

When I, weeks before birth, told my caseworker that I wanted to keep my daughter she not so gently reminded me of the promissory note my parents signed and informed me if I attempted to keep my child I, and my parents, would be sued. She further reminded me that I had caused my parents enough trouble, hadn't I?

It was made clear to me that due to the monies advanced to me in the form of support and housing, I was morally and legally obligated to surrender my child - against my will - to the agency. Lacking any legal counsel, being isolated with my only contact being with the agency that stood to profit from the sale of my child, I surrendered.

I wonder if my daughters adoptive parents knew how their dreams came true?

Money creates a situation for agencies and adoptive parents to be scammed. Again, Easter House in IL was known for providing monies, paying for rent and groceries for expectant mothers.  Not surprisingly, scammers got wind of this took advantage of EH. While I don't shed a tear for the likes of EH, the situation can and does happen over and over gain.  Agencies and adoptive parents that provide funds are just asking for it.

An adoptive family I know in NY purchased their child from a Kurtz agency. The infant was born in AZ, surrendered to one Kurtz agency and adopted through a second Kurtz agency in GA and then placed with the family in NY.  The State of NY stalled the finalization of the adoption due the unusually high fees that were being charged to the adoptive parents. The adoptive parents did not question it. They would have paid anything to get a baby.  Furthermore, they were told the high fees went to the mothers care.

I know the mother in this example. The mother never received a cent from the agency.  The high fees went to line the agency pockets. The adoptive mother is still angry about this and her child is now an adult.

Money creates pricing structures. How do you decide what to advance? Do black moms get more or less money?  What do you pay for? What do you not pay for? What if the mother keeps her child? Does she have to refund the monies provided to her?  And since she was probably considering adoption  due to poverty, how exactly is she supposed to do that? And if she then runs or refuses to pay, do you then file lawsuit against her and dig up her past and her poverty and claim she is unfit so you can get that baby for sale?

What amount is given? Does it vary by state? By situation (how poor is the mother REALLY?) Perhaps it depends on what color her child will be. It is widely documented that white children fetch more on the open market.  Do white expectant mothers get more money since their "product" can likely be sold for more money?

No.

No monies. No buying and selling babies.

Organizations, individuals, families should help expectant mothers. I have done it three times myself and two children remain with their mothers and one was surrendered to a kinship adoption.

And I would do it again in a heart beat.

Do you want to adopt a child or extort one?

She Graduated with Honors

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined." -- Henry David Thoreau

I watched it.

It is actually still going but she received her diploma. Her amended last name is a"C' name so she came up quick.

I cried.

I am still crying.

I captured a print screen of her getting her diploma. It was blurry but it is likely the only graduation picture I will see of my daughter.

I have been intermittently feeling like I might pass out, want to puke, and unable to stop tears.

Why do we do this to mothers? Why do we ever tell any single mother that it will ever be a good thing to abandon their child to strangers? Simply becuase it is easier to sell that child to an infertile woman and fix her broken family wishes than it is to help the mother and child in need?

I am rambling. I know. I am aching. Emotionally bleeding.

My baby girl graduated college today.

College.

The reason she was given up. Was it worth it? 

Was it really true she could never gone with me? If course it is not, but I did not know that then.

When you have doctors, agency workers, parents, priests, and those poor infertile people waiting to take your child, you tend to believe them. When they remind you of the awful thing you did by having sex with a man you loved (???), you get confused. When they tell you that "good white catholic girls don't go on social welfare" you feel further confused (I thought I was a bad girl by having sex now you tell me I am a good girl that cannot get welfare?)

When they tell you that a child can only succeed with two parents, you doubt yourself. When they tell you this is best and you will get over it, you question if that is true. You ignore that love in your heart for your child, that primal connection, that milk made by your breasts just for your child and you sign. When they remind you of that promissory note your parents signed and throw around threats of law suits, you become scared.  How will you feed a child and fight a law suit?  You cave to the pressure and you believe those that seem to know better than you.

They don't.

To all the mothers in this situation, dont believe them. They dont have your best interests in mind. They have their own wallets, their own egos, their own religious beliefs, their own barren ovaries.  If they cared about you, they would help you to parent, give you more time to decide to surrender and if you change your mind, they would honor revocation periods.

They don't.

They are not thinking of you.

Think twice, three times, four times before you abandon your child to strangers.  Take her home. Feed her. Play with her. Sleep next to her. Count her toes and smell the scent of your breast milk as she exhales. Notice how she looks like your mother, or your Uncle Hal. Dream about her future and all the amazing things she will do.  Take her for a walk through a grocery store and show her off to all the old ladies that stop by. Make a home made rattle for her out of a paper towel tube and some beans.  Dream and believe. Believe that the best gift you can ever give your child is yourself.  Mommies are not replaceable.

You can abandon your baby at any time. One week, two weeks, three weeks. Trust me, there will be some excited third party all too happy to take your child, change her name and dismiss you.

Take that time. Think. Dream. Believe.

If you do, you will likely see your child graduate to college.

And it wont be remote via the web.

Graduation Weekend

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.”- Seneca

Shields are up. 

I am trying. I really am.

I am keeping busy. Cleaning, laundering, shopping, and the like.

I talked with a friend earlier. A good friend. A friend who understands PTSD.  We did not discuss the topic at hand but rather he filled me in on his latest activities in forming a new business.

I sent her an email. Short. Sweet. Congrats on the graduation. Good luck tomorrow. Good luck wherever you go and in whatever you do. All my love. Suz.

I am short of breath.

Tight chest.

On the verge of tears all day long.

I keep wandering around looking for projects, hoping something will keep my attention long enough to keep it off of the weekend activities.

ADHD.

I get a few moments of peace and the thoughts are back.

I stop by the computer and see her away message.

"Dinner and hanging out with my parents"

And I lose it.

They are there. My replacement. The improved version. Those deemed worthy to purchase and raise my child.

They are dining somewhere in Poughkeepsie right now.

Celebrating her accomplishments, her beauty, her success, her future.

Celebrating my daughter.

And I, her mother, sit here and fight an anxiety attack.

The webcast is at 10 am Sunday.

This is cruel and unusual punishment.

Yet another thing to add to the long list of awful things those lovely agency workers don't tell mothers who are abandoning their children to strangers.

"Some day you may get to watch your child graduate college from the privacy of your own living room. Isn't that ZOOPAH! You are SOOO lucky! Oh, you wont be invited, you wont even be told of the event but you can watch it! Isn't that grand?!!"

No.

Not at all.

It rather sucks.

What Can I Do?

"The strongest bond of human sympathy outside the family relation should be one uniting working people of all nations and tongues and kindreds." - Abraham Lincoln

Last year when  I attended the Ethics Conference sponsored by Evan B. Donaldson and Ethica I was struck by many topics that were discussed. I cried often. In several sessions I tried to comment but routinely found myself choked up.  People expected this, no one chided me, but still I felt a bit ridiculous.  At a few panel sessions, I even made the moderator cry. 

In reflecting on the conference the other night, I remembered the single event that hit me, a mother who lost her child to the American Adoption Industry, the most.

Days before the conference, news broke loose about the heinous adoption practices that were taking place in Guatemala.  Kidnapping babies, prostituting teenage girls to make babies, all so the infertile wealthy Americans could buy them. There is much to the story and the practices that lead to the situation. Google Guatemala adoption and you will find oodles of information.

The conference organizers were concerned about the session and there was talk of added security, riots and more. Angry prospective adopters were expected to show, lawyers, legislators, agency personnel, and government bodies.

The emotional energy was palpable.

I did not attend the session and I regret it. I was scheduled to be elsewhere and remembering thinking "what could I possibly add to a discussion of Guatemala adoptions?"

I was sadly mistaken.

I learned after the session that several mothers in attendance (Mirah, Claud and others) did attend the session. They spoke up at one point and said they were there on behalf of the Guatemalan mothers who could not speak for their children. They were there as a show of support to those mothers and teenage girls in Guatemala who had been lied to, deceived, or prostituted so their children could be placed on the adoption open market. They were there to show solidarity for all mothers the world round. They were there to give a face to the absent, faceless Guatemalan mothers. Mothers that could be easily disregarded since they were not present.

The action still makes me cry.

With Guatemala and Vietnam and other countries shutting down (if even temporarily) adoptions, I cannot help but wonder what will happen to those babies?   Don't get me wrong. I am glad, as in stupid silly glad, that these matters are getting the long over due attention. But while official focus on the corruption, the lawyers, the agencies, the American buyers, is anyone looking to fortify the orphanages, homes, countries, mothers that are currently holding those children? Is anyone thinking ahead on how to care for those children?

Is anyone working on the flip-side of this coin to help those mothers, those agencies and families that will, hopefully, end up being able to keep their babies where they rightfully belong  - in their own country and with their own people?

To use a woefully poor analogy, we seem to be getting the fox out of the hen house. But who is fortifying the hen house while we keep the fox at bay?

 

My greatest fear is that while the officials get bogged down in red tape and investigations, something horrible happens to a child or number of children, and the officials and religious zealots take the easy way out of their investigation and just end up back where we started - that is, believing selling  children to foreign buyers is easier than addressing the root cause. They will put their own ego preservation above family preservation.

What can we do for those countries? For those mothers? For those babies in those "stalled" adoptions? 

I feel so limited being so far away and with language and knowledge barriers. I can help in the States but in the other countries?

What can I do?