The End of Exile

After Finding my Son on Social Media

Into MySpace and the future I went.

And I found..nothing.

No response, no message, no signs, BUT he had added me to his Friends list..so what did it all mean?

Back into chat, we went over what we knew and what I had sent in the first message. It was decided that it was just too cryptic and that he didn't put it together. After all, on MySpace you expect to get friend requests from random girls and odd notes from people you don't know. That's what the place is about. You don't expect that the woman who gave birth to you will find you.

Making First Contact on My Space

I hemmed and hawed. Could I come right out and say it? "Hi, I am your mother."

Discussed, debated and drafted, finally I sent out:

"You should know that I am not just some random person to add to your MySpace friends list. You call yourself Mysterious Max. It's not a mystery to me. I named you Max."

Alas, the original also seems to have been lost ( Damn my computer hard drive that failed this year!!! I had them all saved) but that was the gist. I also switched out my picture from my default to the one of him as a baby and myself as I had a feeling that that was the picture of me and him that he had and kept in his drawer as reported by the agency. And then, feeling so very scared, yet excited, and a wee bit bad..I hit send.

The next day was more of the same. Worked the two jobs and tried to be normal.

Holy smokes… mom?

At the end of my shift again, messages from Mom22 on my cell. This time, he had posted a message under my Blog.

I had put "Musings after the Pumpkin Patch" on there and Mom22 had commented:

"Claud, you bring me to tears......I know that the day will come when you will hold him again and feel those cheeks so close to yours."

As she was my monitor of MySpace while I was AFK, she read to me over the phone the first words from my son: "you're darn right she will. "

I cried on the way home.

My heart sang my song of motherhood from so long ago."Mine, mine, my baby, my son, my Max"
I really don't know how I drove, but I assured her that I would be OK. Somehow I was and repeated the same performance of the night before..in the house, up stairs, log on, get into chat, and into MySpace where the little red light shown next to my "New Messages" and there, in response to my Mysterious note, were the most beautiful lovely three words I have ever read:

Holy smokes...mom?

I copied and pasted and "ran" back into chat. Hit send.

Support During an Adoption Reunion

There must have been over 30 of us in that room that night. All waiting. All so dear to me and so instrumental in my search, in my ability to become a mother who finds her child, in my understanding and preparation for this moment. It was so very great to be able to share. It was not just my moment, or my triumph, or my joy, but belonged to all of us. And that night, as the words hit the screen, more than 30 incredible ladies from all over the world, in all walks of life, all cried tears of joy.

Three words from a boy none of us really knew..and we cried half the night. Holy smokes...mom?

They are the finest words I have ever read, ever heard, ever seen.

And on April 4th 2005, I ended myself imposed exile from my first born son. It was over. My baby was returned to me..a man child, but still my baby in my heart.

It was, without a doubt, beautiful.

To continue..the Search for Max

Adoption Reunions: Social Media Contact

It is April 2005 and I have definitely found my lost child.

He is right there..on MySpace and all I have to do is hit "send"..and I have touched him again. I want to immediately, oh so bad. I am shaking. I am freaking out. It is a dream come true.

The funny thing..I was sitting across from Rye when it happened. We both have our computers in the attic. I have my side, he has his, the staircase is in the middle. It is a rough unfinished space, but we escape here often. We don't watch TV ( except I watch ER religiously) we just do "our thing". He plays Tom Clancy's Raven Shield..an online shoot bad guys game with a bunch of guys..and I have my groups. my boards, my ladies...I write about adoption.

Sharing the Emotions of a Pending Adoption Reunion

Anyway, I don't tell him. I say nothing. I don't know why, but silently, I run to AI. It is safe there..and they know. The excitement I feel can only be truly appreciated and understood there.

My initial post went out: 8:26 PM 4/2/2005. Pretty much immediately, someone responds and we start to collect in chat. I can't remember all who were there..it is a blur now. MSP, KC, Mom22, Hagar, Phoebe, Issues, Robin? It felt like everyone was there..it was wonderful.

I explained the story again and again..How I found him, what his website said. How he had a blog entry sign as Mysterious Max, even though he was name Gary after his adoptive father. That he listed "Where the Wild Things Are" as his favorite book list. That he loved Star Wars. It is incredible..these little signs that only I could see, but things that said that what little he knew of me and us, he made part of him. And that were enough of a part of him that they were his public profile to the World.

Making First Contact

Encouraged and with support I penned an almost cryptic message. Unfortunately, I cannot find the original off hand. I think I have it in a mailbox, but I cannot try right now, I will insight laziness. Anyway, I mentioned Star Wars and George Lucas, Maurice Sendack, and eluded that I would love to talk to him AGAIN about such things. Then I put in the request to add him to my friends list.

Now MySpace has this neat little feature where you have a blinky orange dot when you are online, so there were times, when we were in chat that he was online....so close!

After I sent the message, he was off for the night, so he didn't see it immediately, he didn't check it the next AM either. I had to leave my laptop and go to work all day, away from my internet, and wait to find out if he responded.

Waiting For an Adoption Reunion

So I went to work, both jobs that day, and I think, acted pretty normally. I didn't talk to anyone in my "real life" about it. It was intensely private. I didn't want to share my emotions and feelings and have to explain. I still didn't tell Rye. It was suddenly just my time.

I know at the end of the night I was pretty antsy. When I checked my cell at the end of the shift, I bugged out as there were 3 long distant messages and I didn't recognize the number.

Once in my car, I was able to listen to them. It was Mom22, and she had joined MySpace and was watching for me while I was at work. Because she was now a member, she could see who was on who as on my Friends list. I had asked to have Max be my Friend, but he had to approve before we would be on each other's list. She had called to tell me that he was appearing on my list. That meant that he was online and saw my message. He had approved me. I was Friends with my SON!

She talked me thought the drive home. It was 17 minutes of pure excitement and anxiety. This could be it. I could have real live communication with my son waiting for me at home. Inside, I continued to freak out. Outside, I calmly drove home after a long days work. I got in the house as fast as I could and got online. They were all waiting for me in chat again. I came in, quickly greeting and said "I am going in".

Then I opened a new window and signed into MySpace to see what waited for me there.

Picture this...

This is my favorite picture of Max and me from when he is a baby. It's the day he was born. He was born in the early morning. I had gotten into the hospital around 2AM and labored into the night. This was after I had rested up. Recovered. I remember laying in the bed, judt totally mistified and stuck down dumb by the incredible force of nature that I had just experienced. His coming forth, out of my body was beyond all reason. It was a place of pure feeling and stamina, raw and primal. Feeling the force and hours long struggle endured, having no choice but to endure it, and then quickly flipped oposite to a gushing slip of life as my body heaved and produced....perfection. I will never forget the feeling of him falling out of me. I have always prefered this picture, but now I can see why. As I hold him, cradled near my heart, still almost one, not yet apart, the look of love is so evident on my face. My eyes stare into the camera as if saying "Mine, still mine." Then I put those maternal feelings aside and took on the mantle of being a good birthmother. I learned to say "thiers, not mine" and swallow the pain. Oddly enough, the night I knew coming home from work, that he had acknoledge my presence in some small way and something could be waiting for me, all I thought was "mine, my son, my baby, mine"..over and over my brain repeated the mantra that I had forced deep down so many yeas ago. I look at this face of my own and think, "How could anyone not have seen it and not felt the absolute cruel injustice of separating me from this babe? Why did no one say 'just don't'" And I have this faint recollection of Joan, the adoptive mom that I lived with, asking me just that..was I sure I had to, wasn't there a way? I don't think I entertained her way of thinking. I beleive I shut her down immediatly. Fool, that I was. I had this incredible urge to call Joan, just now, thinking of this kindness, this understanding and compassion she shared, but the number I have was no longer in service. I have thought about her so much recently. I long to share with her wat I know of Max now. She was there in the beginning, I want to tell her the ending. I think of her daughter, Kari, who I held as a baby, pregnant then with my own. Kari is 18 now too. Did she search? What of her mother, this sister in loss whose child I touched. I saw their ending, what of a new beginning? I am sad that the number was dissconnected. Now I will search for them too. .

musings after the pumpkin patch...

ORIGINALLY WRITTEN: Thursday, October 21, 2004

I just got back from Pumpkin picking with my two little ones and a very dear friend.

We had a lovely lunch in a sweet café, even though I told her that I was scared to bring my kids to such a nice place and we really should consider Friendlies instead, she insisted, childless and naive, that it would be fine and true to the laws of nature, I said it would be a disaster and my kids did the opposite and behaved perfectly! I can’t believe we got away with it!

Then we went to a real farm where the pumpkins are still on the vines. A perfect fall day, slightly overcast with a view of the fields and mountains awash with color. We trudged through the fields, over mounds, tripping over vines, stopping to check out sunflowers and different weeds, in search of the perfect pumpkin. Laughing at my young one who was consistently shocked and amazed every time he came across another broken rotten pumpkin, “Look! Nother one boken one!!..and nother one here!!”

Then hiking back to the car with our orange treasures in tow. Once we loaded up from one field, Yella and I sat on the open hatch back of my car and finished our coffee while my monsters ran back and forth to the apple trees picking and eating endless apples. They were amusing. They were cute. They were having a wonderful time. I know these are the days that childhood memories are made of. All and all a very perfect and lovely fall day.

This is why I hate adoption.

There will be no memories of perfect pumpkin days with my oldest son. Yes, I am sure his parents are great and he has the proper days in his past, and if I am lucky, maybe someday I will get to see the pictures, but never will I feel his cold cheeks against mine after a day in the field.
Never will I brush the dirt off his tiny hinee after he loses his footing over a “punkin too big”.
Never will I be presented with the gift of a half chewed apple and truly be touched. These moments belong to someone else and my chances of being part are gone, gone, gone.

• 17 trips to the pumpkin patch
• 17 handmade Halloween costumes
• 17 over exited Christmas Eves
• 17 crack of dawn groggy Christmas mornings 17 Easter egg hunts
• 17 handmade mothers day gifts
• 17 birthday parties
• 17 times to teach to heirloom stuffing recipe for Thanksgiving
• 6205 kisses good night
• 678 boo-boos kissed
• 2,160 bed time stories
• 2,340 tickle fights
• 85 trips to the doctor
• 18,367 hugs
• 408 nights of interrupted sleep
• 68 pairs of shoes
• 12 back to school shopping trips and 12 first days of school
• 48 celebratory good report card dinners
• 468 instances of monsters under the bed
• 555,165 times to say “stop teasing your brother!”

Did I know what I would really be missing? No, I didn’t then. But as I watched my children playing in the fields today something inside me hurt. I know what I am missing now. You just don’t know what motherhood is like until you live it and by the time I figured it out, I had already given up my first chance.

18, 615 smiles for me……..gone.

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Adoption Reunion: and then wait some more....

Agency Approved Adoption Updates

Along with the pictures, and there were quite a few, was a five plus page update from Max's adoptive mother.
Overall, I tried to view it in a positive light, though there were a few "zingers' in there that could have stung if I allowed myself that sensitivity. I am rather thick skinned unless people start yelling. All an all, I was touched that she wrote more than five pages. It was really a peek into his life, his personality, his interests..and in some parts she could have been describing his younger brother Garin..so close was certain personality traits. Even Garin noticed that when he read it.

When Adoptive Parents Control Adoption Reunions

The biggest thing about that letter was that they had decided not to tell him that I was in contact and asking about him.

Their reasoning was that he was "in a good place" and "didn't ask all that much about me even when they brought it up". OK. But she did see him being more interested later on in college and was glad that he would have "more to love".

Truthfully, I didn't know how to respond as I just couldn't agree. I mean, I just can't be all thankful and gushy for getting pictures and some bits of info about my own child. I know that is awful in some views, but I can't feel privileged for something that should have always been mine..even if I was the dumb fool that let my motherhood slip away.

Plus, I couldn't really get with the program of not telling him. Like I am sure that they had their reasons, but I am sure that they were THEIR reasons. And they were making the decision for a child that really could have made it for himself. There is a big difference in saying, "Hey, anything you feel like knowing about your birthmother?" and "Hey, guess what..your birthmother wrote to us and wants to get to know you". I am of the belief that they did something of the former and were given he "not interested..'Nah, not really' response".

I also could not help but to almost mock the "in a good place" reasoning. So what, you don't tell him that his mother wants to know about him now because he is doing well? So does that mean we wait until he is messing up? Or until he has a bad day? "Oh, sorry that your girlfriend went out with another guy and broke your heart, but we did get a letter from your natural mother"..and I saved a lot of cash on my car insurance with Geico too. Give me logic and truth please.

The Door is Shut by Adoptive Parents

Certain things..I just knew. Don't ask me how I knew, but call it gut, call it maternal instincts, call it whatever, I just knew.

I knew that they were perceiving "non interest" and yet that wasn't the case.

I knew my son would care and be interested, but didn't feel that he could be interested.

I knew that they probably could not see any signs of adoptee loyalty issues.

And had probably not looked into adoptee issues and needs for years and years.

I knew that they couldn't, weren't completely open on the subject for their own reasons really...they weren't ready, they didn't want to let me in yet.

Not in a bad, evil way..but just as a natural adopter mind set way. So even though I knew I should write back and say thanks, even though I knew it would be good to keep some form of neutral correspondence open, I couldn't make myself do it. I couldn't lie.

Adoption Secrets; Adoption Truth

I hated going though the agency and pretending that I didn't know where they were. I hated the thought of having to pretend that their keeping my letter to Max was OK, yet I couldn't see any good coming out of my saying..hey, that's not so cool. Like IF they had told him and then he said Nah, I am not into it right now..then I could have been able to deal. But I had a big issue with them keeping the info from him. Why was it a secret? Why wait and try to control the telling? There was no right time, there was just the real time..that's the truth.

And the truth was that I made contact with them NOW. Let's be honest and open. That is reality.
So I sat back and did nothing. Waited some more. I pretty much believe that IF he asked about me, then they would let him know..so I spent more than a few nights trying to astral project myself into his sleeping brain.."Ask you mother about me".

Didn't know what else I could do.

Using MySpace for Adoption Searches

Meanwhile, or rather before I had gotten my letter and pictures, I had looked for Max on MySpace. Once I had his last name and town and high school it was no big deal to find other kids, his age, in his school, that knew him. My Space is a place for random hook ups and weird contact, so it was not freaky at all to send 30 kids from his HS the message, "Hey, you go to *****HS, I was wondering if you knew Gary G*****?" And low and behold, I got responses form a few.

I used them for confirming information. Like before I had confirmation from the agency that we had found him, I had asked this one kid if it was Max or his brother that was into Gymnastics. We had a picture of Joe, but were trying to confirm that it was not Max. So saying "I forget, was it him or his brother that was all about that gymnastics stuff?" provided that extra knowledge.

Before I got the photos, the agency had said that the folks reported that he was into playing tennis (Which he claims he hates and thought the rest of the family is into it, he refuses to partake) Anyway, we had a picture from the school web site of the tennis team. Out of all those kids the only one that kinda looked like he could have been born to me was, well..very large. So I wrote to one of the kids on MySpace, "I heard a rumor that he got all big? What's with that?"..and that' how I found out that there was no way he was the fat tennis kid.

Are You His Real Mother?

Kids are sometimes all too bright and while I went out of my way to be vague and not too interested, one of my "contacts" ended up asking outright "Are you his real mother?" Smart kid as I had probably only contacted him like four times at the most and really left no hints of any kind. I didn't say who I was but I didn't say who I wasn't. Since by this time, I was waiting for an official update though the agency, I ended up telling the kid, Adam, the whole story in a very factual way including that I was waiting to hear back any time now. I didn't want to tell him to keep it a secret nor did I feel comfortable asking him to be involved. He ended up talking it over with another mutual friend and they decided that they were not going to say anything and just leave it all alone. It was nice in one way as we were able to talk directly about the adoption. And I liked the fact that someone close to him knew who and where I was.

The other interesting part was this kid wasn't even a super close pal or anything, but he knew enough that Max was adopted and figured out who I was. If casual acquaintances knew of his "real mother" then how "uninterested" was he really?

So from July onward to September when I got my update, I searched and waited, then from September on, I just waited some more. It was kind of assumed that I would not do anything on my part until he was 18. Again, I wasn't really sure. His parents knew, the agency knew, and a few kids in his area knew, but he was still in the dark and I really had my hands tied. I kept up my random Googling of the family. I knew when Dad got a great new job and all. More pictures of gymnastic brother. I periodically peeked at the MySpace kids to see if he was listed on their friends list. Some girl who sat next to him in class was really interested in knowing who I was, but I could not entertain letting her know. She seemed too into drama wanting to know if I was an ex-girlfriend ..ha!

Waited some and waited some more.

Finding My Adopted Son; Google, MySpace and Social Media

And then April came around and MySpace had a new feature. You could look up kids by their school listing. So of course, I plugged in his High School. At this point, I had trouble understanding WHY this kid was NOT on MySpace when it seemed like half the world was on it. I went through 15 pages of kids that not only went to the same school. but I knew that half of them must have known him as they were the same age. It was frustrating beyond belief.

After finding tons of kids, but no sign of my own, I decided to see who the kids had listed on their friends list. After all, if you have 20 kids the same age as your own and they all are in the same grade at the same school, someone might mention him.

First Adoption Reunion Contact

I think it was the second kid that I looked at..and BOOM! I almost feel off my chair.

There he was.

He didn't list his school and he listed his town as "Funkytown" which is why it never came up on my searches, but sure as day...my son.

He even had a few of the same pictures his sight was were given to me by his adoptive mother. My first response was to FREAK OUT..shaking, I immediately "ran" to AI, which means opening up another Explorer window as fast as possible and typing in a speedy post appropriately titled "OMG OMG OMG!!!"

Contact in Adoption

Making Contact with Adoptive Families

So remember when I sent the Email to the adoption agency before I found Max?

So right after I know everything, the director writes back, very prompt, and says that she had already called Max's parents and told them I had requested an update and that she would speak further with them. Then she stated that I should get pictures and letters ready.

It was completely mind boggling.

First, I was really impressed that they had acted so quickly. I had expected to be ignored or at least put on the back burner for a while. After all the adoption was over 16 years ago, so really I was of no use to them, but they still treated me well...gingerly, but well. The director, Amy, could not or would not tell me if her feel was it was a "here's an update, now be happy and go away" type thing or if they were more excited than that. She did say that they were shocked, I assume also unprepared.

They were going to write first it seemed which I liked for then I could get a "feel" for them and kind of respond in a way that they might be more open to, but from July I waited, all of August most of September. Finally, Amy said I should just write first and so I mailed out a letter, to the agency first as it was still considered "confidential".

Adoption Agency Control and Confidential Contact

Now, granted I could have just bypassed the agency completely and made direct contact myself, or had Mom2 be the first contact intermediary, but I knew that going though the agency would seem more "sanctioned" and probably make his folks feel more safe and comfortable.

It's very hard because even though you KNOW that nothing you are doing is wrong..you just want to know about your own child..it's not criminal, it's mother nature's pull of extreme maternal instincts; yet you feel as if you have no right to want what you do. Or at least I did, like I was ashamed of what I was feeling even though the emotion it's self was pure jubilant excitement and happiness.

I didn't like going through the agency, after all I am a big girl now, I can talk to people and not make an ass of myself. I can handle things with grace. Plus it felt like a lie, it was a lie, I didn't need them. Yet, there was no way in hell I was telling any of them that I knew what I knew. That was my ace in the hole should things turn south.

So my stuff was mailed out, first to be checked by the agency who makes copies and to intervene if necessary, then on to Max's parents for inspection. Then I waited some more for anything from them.

All I Want is a Picture of My Son

At this point, my dearest and greatest wish was just to have a picture of my son. I had the baby ones from when he was still mine, and the ones I was sent from his first year and I do treasure that peek into his life. I did comfort myself many a time that he looked well, he seemed happy, he was fat and chubby and cute and OK. For the life of me, there was no way I could imagine what his face looked like now. I would look at Garin and imagined him older, but it wasn't the same. Plus I knew from Garin, you don't see what they will become, but when they are there, right in front of your face, then you know that they would not be any other way. It's like of course!

The waiting was, completely, making me crazy. I had the agency promise to call when they got something and then over night it. Every day, my nerves would get all nutty until the mailman came, then I would have this intense mini depression of disappointment and then I went on with my day. Every day, for months. It was a Saturday when I came back from Westchester and Rye said, did you get your envelope in the mail? I grabbed what was there including the large plain brown envelope, but didn't think anything of it as I had been getting lots of catalogues and samples from vendors for my business.

It was a few seconds after I looked at the return address that it registered what I held in my hands. Pictures of my son..the face that I had not seen in 16 and a half years, my baby, grown man/teenager /son. I sat on the couch nest to Rye and opened the envelope. And saw the face that I had been craving to see.

My son, my baby, and of course, this is what he looked like....beautiful.

The Search

Searching for the Adoptee

Opening the proverbial Pandora's Box is a very good analogy when one starts an adoption search.

Once bitten by the search bug, I was amazed at the speed and intensity that it took over my very being. I decided to go out on a limb and send my adoption agency an Email:

Over 16 years have gone by since I relinquished my first born son, Max****, through your agency. I have, in the last few years, with the advent of internet communications, come into contact with various other people involved with adoption; other birthmothers, adoptees and adoptive parents.

With these conversations, I have come to realize how truly remarkable and unique my experience with Adoptions with Love was and how very progressive it was in 1987. That I was treated with kindness, caring, & respect; that I never felt brainwashed or coerced in any way; that I was told of my options and availability of services should I decide to parent is something that I will eternally be grateful for. I know that the face of adoption has changed much in the last 17 years and I would assume that AWL has continued to uphold its fine qualities and morph over into more open adoptions. While I fully understand and will continue to honor the closed adoption agreement that I signed at the time, I have often wished that I was not in the era of the traditional closed adoption.

With that said, I do need to ask, is there any way at all I could receive some kind of update on my child? As the years go by I find that my curiosity also grows as I wonder how he has grown and how he is. The baby pictures in my possession don't continue to have the same quality of comfort as I imagine him driving a car and planning for college. I just so long to see his face and what he looks like now. I would welcome any communication at all. Truly, I would be content and eternally grateful with a mere picture and a quick note: how he is, what he enjoys, etc. Is there any procedure for this kind of thing?

Which leads me to more questions regarding his ability to open my identifying information at age 18:

• I have previously signed the waiver allowing this and I assume that it is still considered valid?

• Are adoption laws from that time still current or is there anything new I should be aware of?

• And could you please tell me what the procedure is for the transfer of information?  I know it's over a year left until the possibility and it is my understanding that boys have less of a need or take longer to search, but as I find the time approaching I wonder what could happen. Does he just call up and get my name in a sealed envelope? What kind of time frame is to be considered? I'm not expecting a phone call on his birthday, but my nerves have begun to get frayed already and I need to know what to realistically expect.

In the meantime, I'll take this opportunity to update my file with my current whereabouts. In the event that Max does choose to look for me, he will know where I am. I'll be waiting along with his two brothers and sister. Let it be noted that he has never been a secret and seeing him would never upset our lives, but only enrich it.

I appreciate you taking the time to read this and I look forward to your reply.

Thank you."

Yeah, I sucked up a little, but it had a purpose.

Adoption Agency Parent Profile Equal Search Clues

Meanwhile, with my old parent profile in hand, I started to look carefully for clues to my child's identity.

There were certain things that 16 years before meant basically nothing, but now were really good identifiers.

• I knew that his adoptive mother's name was Liz as she signed her name in the "Dear Birthmother" letter and afterwards with my two updates.
• I had a feeling that Dad's name was Gary since I had a picture of Max at his second Christmas in front of stockings..two matched, one was obviously newer. I assumed that the new one was Max's and the other older one that I could see really said Gary very clearly.
• I also did something, that I had never thought to do before. I had a small picture album given to me by them with pictures of their wedding, their house, family shots, etc. For the first time I looked at the BACK of the photos, took them out of their sleeves. And I found I had a wedding date, and on the picture of Dad in his boat the inscription "Gary in his new toy" So Gary it was.
• Also I had forgotten that they were both accountants.
• It also mentioned that he had been into investment real estate.
• Plus I had pictures of what they looked like.
• And I knew that they had an Italian last name.

Google: an Adoption Searchers Best Friend

Armed with all that I started to Google and try to find my son.

Once I made my search known, my dear Mom2two and Hagar joined me online.
I began with hitting every accountants office and firm in the greater Boston area and combing the pictures.

The first day of the adoption search was spent learning all I could about this one family that turned out to be a red herring.

The second day of the adoption search, I happened on a picture of an accountant named Gary who was practically the spitting image of Max's dad. It was almost freaky and I was sure that this was it. He had a son and a daughter, but the daughter was older and that didn't quite fit as I knew Max was their first, but didn't rule out that maybe they adopted an older child after, or that I was not privy to the full truth. I spent a day combing the internet for everything I could about these poor folks and since the daughter had a LiveJournel, I had allot to go by. Eventually I found the date of her brother's birthday and that ruled them out.

Now when I say day one and day two, I mean ALL DAY. I did NOTHING but feed my kids and search....until 3am.

Third Day of Adoption Search is the Charm

Keeping my chat window open so that Mom and Hagar and I could compare notes, on day three of the adoption search, after the disappointment of the 2nd family not being them, I went back to what I knew.

I knew that the accountant fact was pretty key so I started to look into CPA licensure. I found a site that listed all the CPA licenses in MA by town and, with my Google highlight on the names Elizabeth and Gary, I went down the lists looking for the two first names with a shared last name. Nothing in all of Boston proper, but when I got to one of the smaller "B" towns..BINGO.

There they were, Elizabeth and Gary, with the same Italian last name.

Once I had the last name, and started Googling on that...it was easy.

Max is a runner and race results are published on the internet with the ages of the kids and their grades. So I was able to confirm that this Liz and Gary had a son who was my son's age. That was it. I found my son.

With Google, we had addresses, phone numbers. With Intellius ( paid search engine), I had all info including their mortgage and the age of their house. We found pictures online of two kids, who turned out to be the brother Joe and the sister. I knew Dad was into town politics and Mom worked from home. The other kids were into gymnastics, and my Max ran marathons pretty damn well.

Three days after starting my adoption search, I was able to go to bed that night knowing for the first time in 16 and a half years that my son was alive, that he was OK. I knew his name, I knew where he lived, I knew what he did, I knew what school he went to. It was the most amazing feeling on the face of the Earth. For the first time in sooo long I felt some peace.

I knew where my child was. I could get in my car and BE THERE.

It was incredible.

Getting Ready for Adoption Searches

Before I signed any papers to relinquish Max, I signed the consent forms allowing him to open the records at age 18.

Adoption Reunion Fantasies

Before I knew anything really about adoption, I had fantasies about his 18th birthday and the telephone ringing, or the door knocking and tried to imagine how it would feel. It was disappointing to find out, once I began to read about adoption and research reunions, that it often is not such the case and frequently adoptees don't begin to search until they are older, frequently inspired by the birth of their own children, and men take even longer on average. I began to try to wipe my reunion fantasy from my brain.

It was pretty obvious that I knew little about adoption for real. I knew nothing about what an adoptee really could feel or think and my closest foray into a real reunion was watching Lifetime Movies.

When Max turned 14 and it was suddenly only 4 years away, I remember writing about how four years was nothing, a college education, the time spent in high school, it could be around the corner with time going as fast as it did.

So the first thing I learned was an adoption reunion probably wasn't around the corner.

But that was hard, for in my mind, the adoption was always 18 years. The adoption and loss of my son had a time span attached to it. It never felt forever. It was more like a lease. And there was never any question in my heart that I would see him again. It was just a question of when.

The Birthmother Rules of Adoption Search and Reunion

Now I thought that I was doing the "good" mother thing by letting it be all up to him. It was his decision to search, when he was ready. That's the 100% answer. I will be there for him when he wants it.

Birthmothers learn to leave a trail of breadcrumbs in the hope that your child will seek you out. On the wall of my mother's garage, right before we sold the house, I wrote my name and my son's name and that I lived here and his birthday. And I left my married name and the area to which I moved to. I kept the adoption agency updated when I moved or something significant happened like when my mother died of colon cancer or Garin's heart condition. I slowly started to register on reunion sights even though nothing usually was posted as he was under aged. I didn't go hog wild as I had time, but I got the IRSS paperwork like three years ago and have waited over two years for him to be of age and be listed on the MassReunion Registry.

Often someone would ask, "Will you search for him when he is 18?"

And I would say "No", I will wait for him."

That was the right thing to do. That is what Birthmothers are taught. I could not intrude. It was not my place. I, after all, was the one to "give him up". We make this sacrifice of our own feelings for the perceived benefit of our child. So of course, we still put the child ahead of ourselves. We also often put the adoptive families needs, and feelings in front of ourselves as well.

Question the Birthmother Rules

And then I started to wonder. I really tried to understand my adoptee friends. Being able to "get" them without huge explanations or clarifications, it was really important to me. For every adoptee that I could relate to and understand was one step closer to understanding this child and his feelings. I would be a better mother for being a better friend. And what they told me conflicted with what I believed.

Adoptees wanted to be found. Adoptees wanted to be wanted. Adoptees didn't want to find a mom who was "Great!" with it all. And for a long time, these conflicting thoughts just sat in my brain and glared at each other across the divide of my mind.

When people asked me if I would search, I answered that I didn't know.

Telling One Son About His Older Brother Given Up For Adoption

In my own mind, being ready for reunion with Max also meant that I got the rest of my life "on board" so to speak. I wanted everything to be lined up by his 17 birthday so I had a year of adjustment to play with. One of the big issues was that Garin didn't know that he even had an older brother given up for adoption.

That wasn't something that I was really all that happy about, but it was the way it came about. When we married, Garin's dad, Pat and I, he had huge issues with the birth of Max. He was the first person after the adoption was openly hostile about it. He was the first person to make me feel shame after. ( Note: I felt tons of shame before, but the act of sacrifice had purified me of it). He claims that it was not Max, or that I had had another child, but that Max's father was so much older than me and I was too casual when speaking about it.

In any case, he acted like a freak most of the pregnancy, bemoaning that it wasn't "my first" too and that just ruined it. I was actually thankful that Garin was breech and had to be a C-section, since I could not imagine labor with him as having been a good experience. I had wanted to be open with Garin from the get go..no secrets, but it was too hard. The marriage was failing anyway, but by time I could make the decision to tell Garin on my own, he was at that huge blabbermouth stage, and I just didn't want to deal. So he never knew.
I also was planning on contacting Max's biological father to tell him he had a son who was adopted at birth..a man that I had not seen or spoke to in 17 years. This was a huge deal as I had not told him directly about the pregnancy either directly before or after, even though I believe he knew I was pregnant but choose to assume that he was innocent of such parentage.

Open the Adoption Box

Telling Garin was the more favored of the two. After all, he is my son. And I began to think a lot about how and when and what to say. The opportunity just came after the July 4th fireworks and we had an hour's drive home in the dark and the little ones were blessedly sleeping. It was a double Independence Day..independence form my secrets and he took it rather well. He was more upset that I had not told him long ago and that other people knew before him, then with the actual news about having an older brother. He remembered that he had "always wanted an older brother" and that was true as he had wished for one out loud as a child and that really hurt...knowing that he truly had one, yet unable to make it happen.

Children and Adoption Questions

Anyway, he had lots of questions for me. What his name was, where he lived, what he was like? Questions I could not answer. Questions I never could answer, never thought I would, but suddenly I really wanted to know the answers. I wanted to be able to tell my son something about his brother. It was one thing that *i* didn't know. That I had agreed on, but it was something else entirely different that my son didn't know. He had no choice in the matter

While looking though my box of adoption related things, I re-read the agency parent profile for the first time in many years, and I was surprised by the amount of information and what I had forgotten in that time.

And for the first time I thought, "Let's just see what I can find"

A Brief History of Anti-Adoption Insights

Anti-Adoption Insights was Flourishing

Watching Jordon go though her struggled to place or not really gathered together many, many people. The Adoption Insights spinoffs came out of their secret hiding place, as well as the ones left at Adoption Insights, plus a bevy of adoptive moms.

It really became the place to be on MSN adoption sights. Adoption Insights began to calm down for the most part as did MSN Adoption. This was not without some really good knock down drag out fights.

Managing Anti-Adoption Insights

While she was still pregnant, Jordon was overwhelmed at times by maintaining peace on the board and I offered to help her in any way I could. I was very surprised and honored that the next time I logged in I had Assistant Manager status.

While there were some really nasty battles between the warring factions of pro-adoption vs. the anti-adoption sentiments, there was some really good understanding and discussions too. At times it seemed that we could make the impossible work and have a board where everyone could co-exist and speak freely, respectfully, but freely. It was hard.

The days when all hell broke loose was always the days that I was away from the computer all day. Sometimes, I would come home to over 200 messages all form Anti-Adoption Insights in my mailbox. Half the posts would have already been deleted on the board, so I had to go back and figure out what caused all the ruckus to begin with. It was often a pain and I felt like I had 50 unruly children that would begin to bicker the minute my back was turned. I named myself the "MotherBoard" and sometimes called them out like children as to make them see how silly it all was.

The Adoption Wars

Of course, it wasn't really silly. It was the really big emotional stuff that makes adoption the complicated sticky mess that it is. And really, if adoption was all sweet and nice, then there wouldn't be all the support boards about, nor all the arguments, or all the inter-board wars. Sometimes, it was plays on wording that got folks all up in arms, sometimes it was all just perceived offensiveness, but often it was the heart and soul of the real issue and peoples willingness or unwillingness to believe it.

In any case, it worked out reasonably well until it all fell apart. I am not going to name names because those who were there know who it is, and if you weren't then it really doesn't matter, but two/three/four? of our constant adoptive moms from Anti-Adoption Insights ended up getting fed up with feeling defensive about their positions. And, in anger, they created Evil Adopters Haven on MSN to kind of mock the attitudes of the hard core anti-adoption folks on Anti-Adoption Insights. It got pretty ugly, pretty fast.

Lots of feeling were hurt, mine included, by their defection. People were banned for Anti-Adoption Insights. There was lots of accusations and lies and defensive positions. In general, the board was torn apart.

Now truthfully, I have seen this happen again and again. If you have a board made up of mostly adopters and the non adoption segment shows up in any force, then the adopters shut down and just complain that they have no voice. Course, my stance has always been that you can't have a voice if you are just lurking. And if those who share the same views as you leave, well why are you getting made at the ones who stayed? But, that didn't seem to make any headway. The majority of our adoptive parents left..not all, but a good portion.

Adoption Mistrust Online

Now at that point, there began a lot of mistrust. There were some really bad troll attacks about really personal stuff and people were sensitive, plus we as a core group, became aware of what might be happening on the closed private boards. There was concern that a considering potential mom who was hearing one side on Anti-Adoption Insights about why to parent her child, was then also on other closed boards where they were very much supported to place. Now I am one of those people who really likes to know what is going on at all times. I guess it could be seen as a control issue, but I don't have to control..I just have to know. It was also frustrating that sometimes it felt that anything I said was automatically discounted because I was "one of those bitter anti people"..so the message got lost on those who needed to hear it. As much as I loved and adored Anti-Adoption Insights and felt it was and is needed, I was almost silent by my obvious connection to it. That's not to make an excuse because my next action was, in internet content, a wrong one, but it was for the right reasons I felt. Again, not an excuse..just maybe understanding.

In any case, I made myself an alternate ID and became another natural mom and infiltrated a few closed private boards for a few months. It was something that a bunch of us thought was a good idea. The idea was to have this alternate "voice" in a very sympathetic way. Someone who stood up for all the reasons not to place ( secondary fertility, divorced adoptive parents, threats to close the adoption, life turning to the better immediately after placement, etc), but never to be overtly anti-adoption. She/I could say the same things and be an example of all those things, but not be viewed n the same way I was. I would love to say that it worked, but there wasn't really an opportunity. And as much as it was highly fabricated, and believable, it was very hard to keep it straight in my mind and on my IDs..and eventually I outed myself by accident. That made quite a few people mad and it was again ugly. Not that I blame them. It was a failed experiment that really did screw up my credibility for a good while. I like to "forget" this part of the history.

Adoption Trolls and Faux Adoption Insights

Anti-Adoption Insights has had its share of bad trolls and nasty happenings. We had a whole sight dedicated to us once.."Faux Adoption Insights" I think. It was a vile nasty place that got shut down by MSN in a few days. There are a few people that I consider my "fans". I don't think any of them use their real names..which is funny because they like to use my alternate ID as a reason to call me Sybil, but they are doing the same. I figure that if I am making some people hate me that much then I must be a real threat somehow..or they really need to get a life!

Adoption Insights now has really tried to make a strong stance towards education and understanding with anyone being welcomed if they follow the guidelines. There is another sister sight Anti-Adoption Truth where the moms have no need to edit themselves. I think both places have value and a purpose. There is not as much confrontation anymore at Anti-Adoption Insights..which makes it a calmer place. I would love to see more activity, but it's hard to get that without the confrontations. It's hard to know where to draw the line.

I feel sad sometimes because in a certain sense, so many of the women I "knew" are gone. For a good long time, we were so very tight. But all I can do is still be here. I have known some really incredible wonderful women on these boards and for that I will always be grateful for each and every one of them. If it was not for these lives that have touched and shared with me, I would not have found Max. I'll tell you that story later.

***

Sadly, MSN shut down the MSN Groups a few years ago and all the "boards" referenced in this post are now gone.

Another Birthmother: Getting Online, Finding My Voice

I have to thank my husband for getting me online and "into" adoption.

He is the computer geek and was constantly in front of "the box". When we started living together, his Frankenputer came with him. I considered it nothing but an annoyance until he convinced me that we needed high speed internet. Once there was instant gratification, I started to see the appeal of the whole "web" thing.

The First Thing I Google was "Adoption"

Pretty quickly, my "lone" status as a Birthmother made me seek out others who shared the same experiences. I think I started out on AdoptionCafe, but soon found my way to MSN sights.

Still Drinking the Adoption KoolAide

Now at that time, about 14 years after the loss of my son, I was still a "Happy Birthmother". I was still under the belief that adoption was a great option, my son was having a great life (though it was traditionally closed..so what did I really know), and it was all my supreme choice that cause the typical "no regrets".

I had figured that everyone was just like me. My first shocker was to see the huge difference between us "willing" moms and the older ones from the Baby Scoop Era who had no choices and were forced. I was amazed and did the typical shock response at their rightful anger.

When I stumbled onto BEBA ( Birthmothers exploited by Adoption) my response was a guestbook posting of how great adoption was.

Then I was extremely angry when the Webmistress at the time ( Hi Bry!!!) discounted my happy post and called me out of denial. That inspired a huge internetphopa where I cross posted the BEBA sight and called for those happy in adoption to straighten out the bitter ones at BEBA. It's pretty funny to look back on that now, but it was quite the little war then.

I'm Not in Denial!

I think my remembering my reaction is something that helps me when I see a "newbie" react in the same way.
The shock, the disbelief, the anger..that adoption could be anything else but wonderful. Thinking differently, seeing the "dark" side, often rocks the very foundation of who we are.

• For us moms, it questions the rightness and goodness of our decisions, long after we have any power to change it.
• For the adoptive parent, it also questions the goodness of their actions and makes them liable to the responsibility of causing pain to another human.
• For the adoptee, I think it also makes their adoptive parents have some negative and selfish attributes as well as question their "life story". There is a big difference between "she loved you so much that she wanted you to have everything and knew how much we had to offer and love you" to "she was cut off from everything she knew, drugged and forced to sign off while screaming that she wanted you and you were whisked off to your adoptive parents who had supplied a huge chunk of cash".

Anyway, it took me a good year to be able to let myself really see what I had actually lost. I spent most of my time on the original MSN Adoption. The original sight is now gone and alas, all my earliest writing, but I do have my very first post from there saved on the also now gone AAI:

"Hi all..I'm totally new here to this whole message board business so I hope it goes well...I'm a birthmother who "gave up" ( how I hate that phrase...do we have one that is more PC or at least not so cold sounding??) my son 14 years ago when I was 19. I have to say that dispite the heartache from my own personal loss and the fustrations that I know others go through with the process, I think adoption is a wonderful, beautiful thing. I look forward to when my time comes and I really can't believe it's only 4 more years and the records can be opened if he wishes. Until then I know ( ok..I hope and pray and wonder) that Max ( my name for him...don't know the real one) is fine and dandy with his folks (who I'm pretty sure are Liz and Gary) ( somewhere in Boston area).....It's kinda weird sometimes..I have another 10 year old boy and a 11 month old girl....She looks just like the baby pictures of Max....I keep on comparing the two and sometimes it feels like I have him here as a baby again....Then it was weird when my son went to this camp this past summer and it occured to me that Max could be going there too..at times like that I keep looking into the faces of these strange boys trying to find a resemblence to a face that I don't really know and I suppose I just seem like a freak. Not that I'd know what to do if I did see him, but what a fantasy...Anyhow ...the point-if there is one- is that I really don't regret it at all and I hope that everyone can benefit from this . Thanks."

There I talked to Carla another new mom with LOTS of anger. I thought I could help her "be happy". HA!

What I did get the most out of it was the ability to really "hear" the adult adoptees. Jen and Kali were also new to the boards and we kinda went though the trial by fires together. Lots of good conversations with them on how they felt being adopted and I realized that they were the ones who were able to speak for my Max. Being able to really hear their pain ( and many others adoptees also helped) was the first thing that really started to question my thoughts on adoption in general. The kids were suppose to be uber happy..and yet, here were real people telling me otherwise.

Getting my Ass Kicked at Adoption Insights

Soon after finding a "home" on MSN Adoption, I learned about its "sister" sight, Adoption Insights. Oh goody, I thought another place, not realizing what exactly the insight was to.

My first taste of AI was to pop myself into chat one night with my still happy and proud birthmother ideals. If you don't know AI, let me tell you that it minces no words and it is a shadow now of its former self. ( ETA: like all MSN groups sites, this one is now gone too) Back then, the place was hopping with a huge membership of constant regulars who posted all day, every day. It is not, nor every will be adoption friendly and I got my happy little momma ass handed to me on a silver platter. It started as just the benign questions about his placement with my happy bubbly answers. And then they rolled out the big guns.
So my education was more important than my son's happiness? And how would he feel knowing that I gave him up to go to school? Concerts? concerts and parties were more important? Wow, hope you never say that to your son's face.

It was the first time anyone had really questioned my reasons and I was hopping mad. I ended up crying and not sleeping much that night, hating AI and all that were there, but like so many others, I was intrigued.

Coming Out of the Adoption Fog

While I didn't go back to chat nor even post there for a very long time, I began to read daily. In time the hostility abated and I could begin to really understand it all. I could get past their anger and see the messages.

Somehow, I started realizing that I agreed.

The biggest change happened when I was speaking once of having "no regrets" and an adoptee pointed out to me, really she begged me, to never, please, ever say that to my child. She explained how hurtful it was to be told that I was OK with losing his childhood, that it was OK to not know him.

It was the first time that I realized that what I thought and felt, while it might work OK for me, would be hurtful and harmful for my son.

Changing my Views on Adoption

I knew then, as a mother, that I had to change my point of view so that I would never contribute more to his pain. That opened the door that the decision for his adoption could have very well caused him pain which, of course, was horrifying. I mean, we do this thing because we feel it is best, we are told it is best, and then, way after the fact, we find out that it could very well have a heck of a huge amount of issues that would not be there if we hadn't done this "best" thing to begin with. The whole "best" concept started to fall down like a house of cards.

The final clincher was one a young woman named Sarah found her way to Adoption. She was pregnant and 16 and her parents were making her place. Suddenly, I was on the other side of the fence and I used every possible part of my soul to convince her that she had the will and strength to stand up for herself and fight it. Phoebe, a marvelous natural mom, and I worked for weeks to buck up poor Sarah. Phoebe ended up speaking to her mother on the phone and somewhere in it, the family relented. Sarah married her sweetie and they had their daughter on my birthday. And I became the me who tries to talk moms out of placing their children.

Now somewhere during this time, I did become comfortable on AI. Also somewhere in this AI had a huge membership split. What happened in detail, I don't know as I somehow missed it. But the fallout was that many of the regular members left and went into a private group while a bunch, like myself, who missed the info on the new private group stayed on AI. In the four years that I have been on these boards, I have seen a lot of people come and go. People join, work though their issues, and fade away. People get mad, leave in a huff. Fights break out, feelings get hurt, all the drama and insanity of high school at times. Plus, I think that sometimes people just need a break and then real life also demands ones real attentions. I have had my "quiet" times, but I have consistently read all "my" boards, everyday. And I have never cancelled any of my memberships to any of them. I guess I am a lifer.

the Birth of Anti-Adoption Insights

About two years ago, a young pregnant woman came to AI with the intention of placing her child and quite angry at the typical AI attitude. AI was pretty dern harsh. There was no sugar coating, no gentle approach, a spade was a spade. And often, things got ugly. A few days of Jordon, the soon to be mom, and the AI crowd going round and round about the horrors of adoption vs the perfection of adoption and something very interesting happened. AAI was born.

See, now AAI lives up to its name..Anti-Adoption Insights. It is known for being an anti-adoption board, but then...the first page said..ahem "Adoption Rocks" because Jordon, madder than a hornet at being called an idiot for wanting to place her baby, applied the ANTI to AI. It was basically a huge fuck you.

Jordon's Anti-Adoption Baby

She was quickly joined by some adoptive moms who were supportive in "whatever decision was best for her" and a few suckers who followed her over. Guess who was in that group? Yup. She didn't post much, but she listened. I didn't think so at first. It felt like talking to a wall, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. It was just something I had to do..keep talking to Jordon. I was relentless. Other people talked to her too. And even the adoptive moms were good. You could tell that they had a much easier time at supporting the adoption. because they could see good coming from it.

But no relinquishing mother really can say that it was "good".....We say things like "best" and "loving decision". We couple those words with "hard and painful". We give each other hope by saying "you learn to live with it" and "you do the best you can, time helps". No one really says "Go for it! Woohoo!"

This did cause some friction as many who did come over were from the AI spinoff group, and so, at first the posts were abrasive at times. There was even a vote to see if it was ok to keep the "antis" on board. Final decision was that the antis could stay, but everyone had to behave.

And so we all talked. We talked about how she could still excel in life with her baby. We talked about her mom. We talked about the potential adoptive parents and watch when that fell through.

She couldn't sleep and would post, up alone, late at night. I talked to her on the phone..a sweet beautiful girl really..blond, smart, 16/17? Rye used to get mad at me. It would be four in the morning and I would talk to her for hours on the phone. She couldn't sleep, she was alone and I didn't want her to be. I remember one night, I had such a cold and had to keep blowing my nose. I was hiding in the attic, talking to her, so I didn't wake anyone up. It was so cold and I was so tired, but I could never be the first one to hang up on Jordon. It was so hard. She didn't talk about how she felt so going into labor, no one knew what would happen.

By then, we all wanted her to parent. And the miracle happened. Jordon kept her daughter.

Felt like....

adding something pretty.

Five Star Mommy Day

I think I must be feeling better. I attacked the house today with a vengence. Folding and put away all the laundry..except for Scarlett's, but her room is trashed right now, so I will tackle that tomorrow. She has to help me. I can't believe she is such a slob. Rye's child 100% Then I cleaned up the huge mess of foam that the dog chewed up and has been under my desk for a week. That caused me to actually vacumn the attic/office where I sit now. Took the littel vacumn downstairs and did the hall, bath and our room..again not the kids. I don't do Garin's room anymore and S&T need to work with me. Downsatirs got completely cleaned. All the pine needles from the tree and did the floors..vacumn and mopped. Fabreezed it all..even got inside of the couches. The round table in the foyer is fixed, though I did that last night, I set it back up today. Replaced like four lightbulbs that were out for however long. Made dinner..Chicken Marsala..yummy. Helped Garin with his Cuba report though I can't get it to print..that's for Rye to fix. Walked the kids and dog to school for Scarlett...and made it on time! And yesterday I made cookies with the kids and went food shopping. Yeah ha! Oh and I made a cheezy holiday newsletter and emailed it out to like 80 people. I have NO idea who the heck I really mailed it out to. I have two huge Email lists from when Garin had his sugery this summer and like an insane amount of people are on them. So afterwards I checked, and I sent a holiday newsletter to Hilaary Clinton! WHY she was on my list, I have NO idea. But I sent her one. I do write to her and rant on adoption at times, but only when she sends me an newsletter first and mentions abortion. I guess fair is fair. I have been thinking of composing another Adoption letter..something for the media...and mailing it to EVERYONE I can find....in the news, on TV, Ophra, the Times, the whole damn world. I mean someone has got to see the truth and a story in it. I think the time is coming. I don;t know why, but I feel a small shift in the scheme of the world. I dream so big. I think that is my problem. If only something would come to fruitition. I have been thinking about my Congressional bill..NIARA. Maybe it's time is coming. If I rewrote it so that it reflected what adopters want to, I think maybe it would have a shot. Maybe if I do that, and then get grassroots support, and THEN blitzed the media. Would they bit that? "SAHM drafts Congressional Bill reforming the whole Adoption industry... News at eleven" See what I mean...I dream big. But I want change dammit!! I want change bad enough to DO something about it. It's great to talk to people and I know that I have helped some, but talking a woman or two a year into being a mom is sometimes just not enough. So many are still lost and it breaks my heart. Sometimes I just can't even go there. Like there is a blog here now, no need to name names, that is like watching a train wreck. I read it, but I can't comment. I feel like it's slowmo and I am just yelling but no sound comes out,"NNOOOOoooooooooooo........" And I know that nothing I say will turn this girls mind. I can hear her resolve. Maybe she just reminds me too much of me..that determination. It can be a bad thing. I had a list on the computer, before I lost the hard drive two months ago, that had the names of all the moms I have known. It was pretty imprssive in a sad, sad way. So many of us. And I don't think, out of all of them, that one would do it again. No one would walk into that pain again willingly. We would all parent. That alone says something. Ah, I just thought of one..but only one! I should write it out again. Eh. My lips are chapped. It's quarter to one. Rye is still not home and I want ice cream. Night.

All About Names: Claudia Means Lame

I don't know why, but this feels necessary tonight.

My name really is Claudia.

The majority of people refer to me as my given name, but, the obvious shortened version of it is Claud. Friendship, familiarity, constant usage, etc, I am most confortable as Claud. The FauxClaud is, to me, an amusing play on words. Faux, of course, mening fake, but pretty much always, online, I have been as real as it gets. I like that I branded myself years before I knew what I was doing. When my parents named me, the lead name was Colleen. Thank goodness, at one point during my mother's pregnancy, she and my grandmother heard Lady Bird Johnson's given name..which was also Claudia and they decided that they liked it better than Colleen. Then, they convinced my dad and here I am.

Now, Claudia is a great name.

Not too many of us, but not wacky, like say Apple. Never had to use an inital at the end to diferentiate myself from the millions of others like all the Jennifers and Michelles growing up. It is Classic, with Roman ties back to Claudius the Emperor. And great public TV..I, Claudius. Hence my play on my Email is I, Claud..which morphed into ImeClaud due to AOL not letting me use the original IClaud during a 6 month period when I changed over accounts. Unfortuately, no matter how hard I have searched, there is only one true meaning of the name:

Claudia, Claude, Claudius, Claudette, Claudine, etc. The name means LAME.

Now, I know that the meaning is a in a completel literal sense as the original Claudius had a bad limp. That's OK since, really, if you had to be named after a Roman Emperor, he is a pretty good to be named after. He is not known for killing Jesus, or wild abbriations, he is known for building great inferstructure and strengthening Rome. In fact, the femine version of Claudius,Claudia, first occured when naming an aquaduct. That's OK: I am an aquaduct.

I use to hate the meaning and looked for anything else that could possibly be used. Why could it not mean beautiful flower, or full of grace, or even something God inspired? No. I have a great name that means broken, disabled, noticably different and injured. I have come, over time, to embrace the one real meaning of my name. I am broken. I am diabled. I am different and injured. And while the obvious and usually most predominent reason for thus is because I am a mother who lost her first child to adoption, loss and being broken has been a constant theme in my whole life. Now most people have had some kind of loss especially by the time thay have gotten to my advanced age of almost 38. But, I cannot fool myself, I know I am doubly blessed in this regard. It's OK..it's what I have been delt and I can carry the load. I can still grab my joys at the most simple pleasures and I am so thankful for all that I do have. I'm just scared stupid sometimes of losing anything else. My friends that have known me forever, I cannot surprise them anymore when the lastest escaped of insanity takes over my life. It's so common, it's expected. We joke about it. At work we have a running joke about robbing a bank. Merri and James the Cat are to do the robbery, while Samantha in huge JackieO sunglasses drives the getaway vehicle. They all have code names and race away to Mexico with the loot. "Oh, Can't I come?" "No, Claud..you can't come" "Why?" "Because if you come, we'll get caught" Ah, the dark claud of Claud the Lame. About 8 years ago, at Christines's Bridal shower, we were discussing a mutual friend who was planning on marring another mutual acquaintance who was alrady married and divorced twice, plus a bit crazy too. Ah, we said..you can't do that, it's a recipe for diaster. Maybe they had already done it and had rushed into it and we were discussing the aftermath? The conversation was about following some good "rules" about these things and why they are in place to safeguard marrying crazy people. "But look," I said, "I went by the rules with David, went out for three years, planned on getting engaged for more than one year..and it still went weird" David being the lovely man who decided he was Gay a week after our engangement and my 30th birthday. He freaked out and was never seen from again. "Oh, Claud" Maryanne laughed, "With you, the rules don't mean anything" Damnned again. Or, as my interm probation officer says ( and I guess then I will have to explain sometime why I have an interm probabtion officer and why Williams Lumber sucks..lol), "Talking to you...It puts my life in perspective. Why my car broke down this morning for no reason seems of little consequence now." Great..I can help center people. My very religious friend, Pam, says that these trials in life help build character. I have enough character now, thank you. Others like to say how "strong" I am.

I HATE being called strong. What does strong mean really? That I kept on breathing?

That I did not run naked, screaming down the middle of main street with an Uzi and bunny ears? I had no choice, it was not strength. It was life and I had to keep living. Strong is what people say when they cannot comprehend doing what you have done or going though what you must go though. But really, it's all luck, or being damned, or fate. They are just lucky enough that they haven't had to deal with all your or my crap. They might be thinking "Lucky me!", but they can't very well say that..so they make you strong. Bleh..I hate it. You do it too if it happened to you.

Nothing strong about breathing, just survival and I live to see another day.

Plus, as much as a nervous breakdown might be tempting at times, I fiqure that once I got out of Benedictine, or South Oaks, I would still have to deal with whatever shit made me lose it in the first place, but now I have been out of work and people are all gonna look at me funny. Not worth it. The bigger escape, death..ah, that I can't even console myslef with anymore. I have four children to think about and I know that they need me to stick around.

So here I am, Claudia the Lame, Broke Arm, Birthmother, FauxClaud.

And these are my musings.

Never too old for Santa!!

A precious list for Santa penned by my dear "boss": Here's my list for this year. As usual, I don't expect you to be able to fill it, completely, but make a stab at it, huh, please? 1-Please give new Moms a shiny new roadmap to us older ones and adult adoptees so that maybe they can see the damage done and they won't cave in to the pressure. 2-Please give all adult adopted people and their Moms the legal right to know all about themselves and each other. Some nice gift-wrapped books on how we Moms can deal with our fear-ridden denial and our adopted children can deal with their resentment and torn loyalties would be nice, too, so that we could heal ourselves and help each other. 3-I'd like a gift, too, for those who think they have a right to the chilren of others. I'd like their present to be a nice, big reality check and ability to see through their own propaganda. An unselfish conscience in their stockings also would not be amiss. 4-I don't know if you can put this in your sleigh or gift-wrap it, but some general and geunine respect for us former "unwed" Mothers would be a big hit this Holiday. 5-For the people still in search, especially like Tauri's Mom and some adopted people who have been lied to by adopters, just some perseverence and hope would be just the ticket for their gift. I know this is a big list and very hard to fill, Santa, but these gifts have the potential to alleveiate a lot of unhappiness and isn't making people happy your main job? You'll find milk and cookies and carrots for the reindeer as usual. Love, Robin Westbrook, age 60

Annual Pre-Xmas Melt Down

Somehow, I just can't avoid it. I guess it's just like the birthday blues that we, mothers in exile, get around our adopted children's birthdays. I really do expect it, but I am alsways so surprised by it's intensity. Anyway, today was the day. Yippee! Illness is still constant in the house. My hangover, from last Saturday night, DID turn into the flu. Then it attacked Evan, Garin and Rye in that order. I ended up not really eating anything from Saturday until this Thrusday and getting super dehydrated on top of that. Plus, I am still coughing like a maniac. On top of that, I think I scratched my right cornea or something, because my eye is sper sensitive to light, and hurts, and leaks all damn day. I'm tired, I'm cranky. I am way behind on shopping and need for Rye's next check to get the kids stuff done. And I think it's PMS time too. This morning, my eye hurt something awful. Now I have no way of knowing if you, dear reader, have good eyesight, but mine sucks. I have been wearing glasses since 4th grade, 100% dependent on them since 7th grade, and have had contacts since I was 12. My hand in front of my face is blurry without help. 350/20 is considered legally blind..if you see that bad with help. That's my natural eyesight, so I am not blind, but it gives you a good idea of how bad it is. I don't feel awake or alive if I can't see. So it freaks me out when I have eye isues. Plus it really hurt. And I am just really cranky and grumpy in the morning. I don't like much of anything before I have time to have my coffee and check my internet world which I ususally do together. So that, together with feeling just abit annoyed with Rye, wasn't all that great. Rye was puking last night. I have mentioned how bad he is when he is sick? Yeah, I thought so. He hasn't been as bad the last few years as when I first met him, but he was whiney last night. Which wouldn't have been sooooo bad, since I know it is a bad sicky thing and he has been better, but when I was sick...he wasn't all that nice to me. He was kinda curt, not nuturing. Not that nuturing is really his strongest point anyway. He's a good soul, but he doesn't make you think sensitive male, or being too in touch with his feminine side. Then he'll get glassy-eyed at some weird movie..like "Family Man" or watch the re-run of ER where Lucy dies and call me at work....so it's in there, a soft part of his heart. Plus, he's fiercely loyal. He does great with the major big horrible things of life...really gets calm and focused, finds solutions, motivates, but the day to day challanges..eh, sometimes he'll cop a "man" attitude..calous, gruff, primative. Being sick is hard for him becasue he can't "fix" it. Any, here I am morning crankies with a ruiney eye, all weeping in the kitchen. And he tried to take my hand just as I was turning to flop in dispare on the nasty yellow chair, and I pulled aburptly away. So THAT made him all feel regected. That's part of the problem with him wanting to "fix" everything. If I'm cranky and he acts nice, then I am supposed to get automatically un cranky. And sometimes, I just don't feel fixable. Sometimes, I am juat broken and need to cry. Usually right before my period when the trials of day to day life seem just so unending and unmanagable that all I can do is sob. I need hugs and pats on the back and baby kisses on the forehead. Don't squeeze my boob. Don't try to tickle me. Don't act annoyed when I am just sitting and crying and role your eyes. And I have told him all this before so it's not like I expect him to read my mind. It wasn't pretty. Nothing noteable, but we were not to nice with each other..for no real reason. And instead of have a nice day, we exchanged FU's. Sometimes, it's just one of them days. I was going to type out my liteney of issues that made me weep this morning, but it hardley seems worthy of it now. I am definatly feeling the christamas stress, but I am not worried. Like I know it will "be OK" because I will make it so, but the money is tighter this year. Of course, some years it seemed non existant and then, something came though...so it will be OK, again, somehow. All and all, it's fading out like bad PMS. That's a good thing. I can't check my mail from my laptop right now. Actually, I couldn't all day. Something is up with Yahoo, but it's isolated to my machine. I did get into it from Rye's desktop, but it's a bother to have to go over there. I'd have to cross the room to do that. And I do usually check my mail like 12 times a day. You know what else? I really, really wish I would hear from Max. I haven't since right after his birthday and I have sent him 4 "chatty" bits since then. The tension and dissapointment from that begins to coil around me like a spring. The longer the time frame, the thighter I am wound. Plus, this is almost a month..or just a month rather..of no contact, but it is the month immediately following his parents finding about, kinda harshly, that we had already been in direct contact. So, I am worried. I suppose I should write that whole story out. Not tonight though. I need to sleep.

Late night thoughts

I was thinking last night after reading the latest of this thread over at Adoption.com. I have to say that I am very happy with the way this thread has been spoken and recieved, plus very happy with the way that my dear Southernroots and I have been been able to speak about the ugly truth in adoption without getting sidetracked or getting the thread shut down. Oh, and Brenda too! If you had said to me a two years ago that we would have been able to speak so freely on this forum, I would have called you a lier. So, Kudos to Adoption.com! Anyway..what I was thinking about is the amazing bond between mother and child. More than the "have a baby, ohh, it's so cute..see it grow, etc" The true genetic bond, said to be on a cellular level, that is so much more encompassing than even words can say. I can get real specific and find all the scientific research that supports this..how the mother's and child's cells continue to be entwined long after the birth process, but that has been done and it's out there already, why repeat it. I know from finding my own lost son..the feeling of pure recognition was overwhelming. When I was pregnant with my daughter, I remember trying to imagine what she could possible look like and when she was born and I saw her tiny face, my reaction was "Why, of course!" Of course that is her..who else could she be! Instant recognotion. With Max, imagining what he had grown into from the two day old babe, the changes in his face..I couldn't see it, Yet, when presented with a picture of him at 16, it was the same feeling, "Why, of course!" It was immediate and so obvious, this was my son and I knew then that I would have been able to spot him from a line up of 20 some odd teens. I could see myself, my family, my blood in every inch of him. Even more unbelieveable was how I knew him, without ever really knowing him. I understood his tempermant, how he tested and did in school ( in fact I told him how in one of our first correspondences..I think he was shocked), his interests, his musical taste, his unique oddities, tastes in foods, feelings about religion and spirituality, even they way we write and our common typos and misspellings. Granted someone could insisits on coinsidence, but there are just too many and the relationship is still pretty new. I know him and understand him because he is part of me. I would say that we have a pretty amazing bond even without having ever yet met again. I feel like he has embraced this part of his idenity because he can also see the connection. He knows where from which he has come. And I am not nearly the only mom or adoptee to speak of this. And the crux of this, is that the bond did not need to have the years of nurturing to make it whole, or strong, or stable. We were separated, made legally strangers, kept apart though all formative years, yet, still..so very much part of each other, so very much one of mine. I think that must be really scarey to an adoptive parent. For the natural parents have the one thing that they cannot ever have..the true cognitive bond. No matter what they do, how many years, how many boo-boos they got to kiss, butts to wipe, diapers to change, sports events to attend..they can't get that genetic mirroring and continuation, that deep understanding that comes from knowing a person because they are part of you. You can know a person very well because of years of contact, love, and shared lives. I mean how many of us know what our spouse will say before they say it..or how our best friends will react to something. You can understand that reaction because you love them and desire to understand, but it is very different then understanding because they are doing the same thing that you would do. Not because of learned behaviors, but because of our inherint nature as humans. It is a deeper understanding..not just logic, or intellect, or emotions, but on all levels. So the adoptive parents cannot get what we naturally have. Now granted they have had what we lost...all the years, the memories, the shared history, the stories, the boo-boos, the diapers, etc. But that desn't wipe out the inital bond, and upon reunion, the initial bond will try to take up again where it was lost on birth and placement: hence, the intensity of beginning reunions, the obsessions, the falling in love, just like a new baby. So in essence, the bond is able to disregard what the adoptive parents have. The years lost almost don't matter in the whole scheme of things when our children can be returned to us...we are still their mothers and they are still our children. So how frightening is THAT..to think that no matter how great of an adoptive parent one might be, no matter how many years and tears and joys invested, it will almost matter not. The child is still of the mother. They can get our years, but not our bond. Disclaimer: I know that not everyone has great expereinces on reunions. I know that not everyone feels every connection, but that does happen in pure traditional families too. Some kids related to their folks and some don't, some people connect and some never will..adoption influenced or otherwise. The point is that it must be really scarey to an adoptive parent when it does. And no wonder they don't want to believe that the bond exsits or that they insist that it is the hard work of parenting that really makes the parent "real". All I know is that I might have lost my son for 18 years, but when found..he is 100% my son*. I know him, I recognize him, he is me. I think he is a strong enough individule that they could have put him in a cardboard box in the middle of a dessert and he still would have been the same kid...and still so obviously from my body, of my blood. My son. Me. * Understandably, not really 100% anymore. He has a whole other family and another set of parents. I have no need nor desire to upsurp them and their place in his life. But the amazing continuity of our selves cannot be denied, for them he must deny so much of himself.

This guy makes me so mad!!

I can't even see straight. Poor Sunny and I have gone round and round with him, but he is, alas, a huge Noodlehead. And yes, I am being kind in that naming. I believe I shall pick him apart later, but right now I need to blow some bubbles or something to return to Earth. ( Blow out the anger, blow out the anger) May my darling ladies give him a run for his nonsense.

Illness has taken over the house

And it is just not any fun. Rye had a cold and thankfully, it was not that bad for him. I am selfish and do not say thankfully for his benefit, but for mine, as he becomes the most miserable man child on the face of the earth when he is sick. THe cold made it was though to both Garin and Tristan and myself. Garin did Ok and Tristan has been manageable with the help of medication. Granted the call of "Mom!!! I have Boogers!" is often but at least I can get him to actually blow OUT every third attempt if he is in the mood. He did make a few fusses about his ear hurting, but I cannot tell if this is real or if he just likes the taste of the liquid Motrin. I, on the other hand, have become Typhiod Mary. Immediatly the illness sank into the depths of my chest producing the most irratating hacking cough. Yes, smoking does not help and will make this happen. I have now started to bank on Musilix to break up the hold which has seemed to help somewhat. It is a productive cough. I will spare you a description of the product. We have also been blessed with a stomach bug. Or maybe two..I can't tell. Garin came home with one on Tuesday, but it was all apin and discomfort, no..product. Scarlett, however, spent an intense 6 hours on Thursday living in the bathroom..or running to it every 15 minutes. That ment that I was also chained to the john to hold her hair and wipe her face. I thought we got off lucky as it seemed over even though her constant need for food did not resume. But no, hours before we were to get ready to leave for our Cindy Lauper concert on Saturday, the puke did return to the poor girl. Rye made a few phone calls and the tickets found new owners and plan were nixed. We still, however, we going to try to make it out that evening to the West Strand Grill as it was the final party there. The Grill had been sold and since a) Rye was part of he original staff there for many years, and b) we met there, it was nostgolgic that we attend. We did and a good time was had by all. OK, too good of a time. Note to self: 5 Cosmos and a shot of something is too much!! I was put to bed. I stayed in bed all day. Since Rye had to work, this ment that Garin was the one to keep the children fed. I was convinced that I too had a flu, but since I am OK now, I know it was the drinking. Yeah, this is why I do not go pout often and if I do, I don't drink much. I had a killer hangover and I was sick..alot. Very unpleasant. It was also Rye's work Christmas party tonight. I am home. We were all to go, but....he came home and fed us all and then he and Garn went. They are still out, the little ones are asleep, and I have slept all day..so now what?

Just thought this was great!

Why Won't My Mother Meet Me?" by Carole Anderson Why did your natural mother refuse to meet you? There are probably as many answers as there are natural mothers. From some of my own feelings and those of other natural mothers, though, I do have a few possible themes to suggest Your natural mother lost a great deal when she surrendered you. She lost the chance to give you all of the love she felt for you, that all mothers feel. She lost the opportunity to share in the important and the humdrum events of your life. She lost all the joys and problems of raising you, of guiding you from infancy to adulthood. She may feel guilty that she was not there. She may feel cheated because she was not allowed to be there. Either way, loss is both painful and unnatural. In addition to the pain of the losses themselves, there is the additional pain of feeling different from other people, outcast from society. Often there is the pain of feeling that the loss was unnecessary and that the separation need not have occurred "if only..." If only her parents had helped her. If only the social worker had told her what adoption would really be like for you and for her. If only society had supported single parenthood at the time you were born. If only she had not believed she was unworthy of you. If only she had had the money to support you. If only she had somehow found a way to keep you. If only she had believed in her own feelings instead of in what others told her would be best for you. The list of "if onlies" is endless. Knowing you could make her losses more real to her, and thus more painful. She may have worked very hard at denying her feelings, at convincing herself that your adoption was necessary, at telling herself that giving birth does not make a woman a mother, at pretending that she was not a mother and so did not lose anything. She may have denied to herself that it ever happened. If she has succeeded at numbing herself to the pain by clinging to such beliefs, knowing you would remove the blinders from her eyes, exposing her to the full impact of all the years of loss and pain. She may have coped with losing you through fantasizing about what might have been. She may see you over and over in her mind just as you were when she last saw you, see herself raising you, see what you would be like at different ages. If your natural mother has other children, she may be terrified of losing them, too, if she had not told them about you. Many natural mothers were rejected by their children's natural fathers and by their own parents during their pregnancies. If the people she loved and trusted and whom she though would always love and help abandoned her when she most needed them, she may be unable to trust anyone now. She may regard all relationships as fragile, and fear that she will be abandoned again if she disappoints the people who are now important to her. Having already suffered the pain of losing one child, the fear of losing her other children and suffering that same pain again may overwhelm her. She may also fear losing you a second time around, if you want to see her only once. Many natural mothers have internalized others' rejection of them and believe they are unlovable. Not loving or respecting herself, she cannot believe that others could care about her if they really knew her. Suspecting that adoptees who search will ask about their fathers after they have satisfied their curiosity about their mothers, her rejection may be tied to her feelings about your natural father. If she love him, accepting you could mean reopening the deep wounds she suffered in being rejected by him. IF she did not love him, she may dread having to admit that fact to you. She may not want to explain her relationship with your natural father or her feelings about it, and fear that you will reject her if she does not answer your questions about him. She may fear that you would prefer him to her and she could not bear to lose you to the very person whose abandonment made your surrender unavoidable. She may believe that your natural father is a terrible person and feel shame at having had a relation with him, fear that you hat her if you knew him. She may fear that you would be upset or would think less of her or of yourself if you knew him. Mothers want their children to be happy, but they also want to feel needed and important to their children. They want to be the ones who make their children happy. Generally, a mother's needs and her child's compliment each other, so that both are satisfied by her raising her child, with each needing and receiving the other's love. The special situation of adoption, though, assures that the natural mother cannot win. If she believes your adoption was the best for you, she may feel worthless or useless as a mother because you did not need her. If your adoption was not the best, she may feel guilty that she did not protect you from whatever happened and she may therefore feel she failed as a mother and as a woman. Your natural mother's image of herself as a mother, a woman, and a human being may be at stake. If she has internalized society's judgments that "nice girls don't" or that only an "unnatural woman" could surrender her child or that "any animal can give birth but that doesn't make her a mother", it will be difficult for her to acknowledge to herself that it is she who is that bad girl, the unnatural woman, or only an animal in society's eyes. Subconsciously, some mothers feel that their babies abandoned them. Mothers were often repeatedly told that their babies needed or wanted more than they could give them, and that surrender was necessary for the child. Many mothers were told that to keep their children would be selfish, that they had no right to satisfy their need to love and nurture by raising their children, because the children deserve and need more. Other people spoke for you, telling your natural mother you wanted more than she could give. To your natural mother, this may have been experience deep within as a rejection by you, as her baby's deserting her for other people. Even though she knows on an intellectual level that this feeling is not rational and she may feel guilty for it, on an emotional level what she feels may be that, although she needed and wanted her child, her child was not there for her. Closely related are the problems of competition and sacrifice. Just as she may have felt that she was in competition with unknown couples for the right to raise you, a contest in which she was the loser, she was also placed in the position of being in competition with you. She may have been told that it was her life or yours, her needs or yours. Because you were not aided as a family but instead treated as individuals whose needs were in conflict, she may have felt that she was choosing between her own happiness and yours. If she wanted to raise you but believed that your surrender was necessary for you happiness, she may feel that she has sacrificed her life for yours, her happiness for yours. All people want happiness, everyone wants her own needs to be met, and there is usually anger toward injustice. She, however, cannot allow herself to feel or express her anger and resentment, because it was your natural mother herself who decided that you were more important and mattered more than she did, she herself who chose your needs above her own. If that choice was made by others such as her parents or by her situation instead of by your natural mother, there may be even more anger. There can be tremendous guilt involved for feeling anger, because we have been taught that parents gladly sacrifice for their children. Her anger may therefore be threatening to her, for what kind of person can she be that she could feel anger toward her child? Yet other parents, other people, do not make sacrifices of this magnitude. What society usually calls parental sacrifice is really more like an investment or a trade-off of some current comfort in exchange for other regards. To give up a full night's sleep in order to tend a sick child carries with it the benefits of holding and comforting that child, feeling necessary to the child, receiving the child's love and gaining society's approval. What most parents think of as sacrifices are small and temporary inconveniences for which they receive personal satisfaction, the child's loyalty and affection and societal sanctions. The sacrifice of a natural mother's life for her child's in unique. Rather than compensations, the sacrifice is generally answered with guilt, pain and emptiness. Society's reaction is most often condemnation rather than approval. The natural mother's sacrifice is unnatural, unrecognized and unrewarded. Some natural mothers felt less than human during the pregnancy and surrender experience, and may have felt they were regarded as subhuman by society. Just as infants have a need to be nurtured, so every mother has a need to give nurture to her child. You were placed with people who could meet your infant need for nurture, but your natural mother was given no substitute for you. Her need to nurture was not met. Understandably, many adoptees explain that their adoptive parents are their only real parents and they love them dearly, but that they searched to gain information about themselves. Newspapers are full of articles about adoptees saying that they are not looking for a mother, but for themselves or their own identity. Your natural mother may feel she is again being reduced to a data bank. Just as she once surrendered you to others while her own needs went unmet, she may feel she is now being asked for information but that again her feelings and needs will be ignored. She may feel she has given everything without receiving anything in return, and will be reluctant to give still more if she fears that you too, will take what you want from her and then abandon her with no thought for her needs. Even if she is able to struggle through the many pains and losses that have already occurred, your natural mother may fear that there are more to come if she accepts you now. It may hurt her terribly that she could not mother you. Opening her heart to you would make your natural mother vulnerable to a later rejection by you. If she welcomed you as the beloved daughter or son she lost, how would she feel at being only a friend or acquaintance to you? To what extent would you accept her? Would she be asked to your graduation or wedding? Would you want to spend Christmas or Passover with her? Would you regard her as the grandmother of your children, including her in events in their lives? Or would you want to see her on rare and secret occasions, carefully hiding the relationship from others? She may feel that not only have adoptive parents taken her place in your life as a child and in raising you, but that by accepting you now she would lose you again, this time by inches, by being relegated to a lowly and insignificant place in your life, if she were included at all. As an adult, you are unlikely to want your natural mother to be the mother she may, on some level, still want to be. Your image of motherhood will always be that of your adoptive mother, not your natural mother. You cannot relate to your natural mother in the same way you would have if she had raised you, nor can she relate to you in the same way. Neither of you are the people you would be if she had raised you. Although the similarities you are likely to share would make her keenly aware that you are her child, the differences resulting from your growing up in your adoptive home would make her painfully aware of the distance between you as well. Because meeting you requires facing all her feelings about your surrender and loss, it may also challenge your natural mother's beliefs about the value and meaning of life, the importance of family ties, religion and other basic concepts on which she has built her life. Many people want to believe that the world is fair, that everything comes out even, that people get what they deserve out of life. Adoption issues do not fit into such tidy categories. If the world is fair, what has she done that is so terrible she deserve such pain? If life is equal why did other people who expressed their sexuality before marriage pay not price for it? If this is justice why did her subsequent children have to grow up in an incomplete family, without their brother or sister. IF families are of primary importance and should be kept together why was her family separated? How could her church have told her God wanted her child to be adopted or that God created her child for other parents? How could a loving God want this pain for her? If she allows herself to acknowledge her experience, how can she reconcile it with what she believes about life? If the foundations on which she has build her life do not match her experience, it will be difficult for her to face her feelings and risk losing those foundations. Facing you may mean reconstructing her entire view of life, rethinking all of her values. The issues a natural mother must face before she can accept her adult child are not simple ones, nor are they obvious to her. Often there are conflicts between what she thinks and what she feels or between her feelings and those of the people around her. Few natural mothers were told to expect these problems or prepared to deal with them. Since little or no hope of a future reunion was offered to surrendering mothers, there was little motivation for attempting to deal with them. Many were told that they would be abnormal if they did not forget about their children, that they should go on with their lives as if they had never had their children. Most natural mothers, despite the enormity of these issues, do face most of them in the years following surrender. Most people cannot sustain the fantasy that their loss was a nightmare and not a reality. Most people find the strength to face the truth of their own lives, but growth can be a slow and painful process with uneven progress characterized by temporary regression back to suppressed feelings. To some people, it might seem pointless to attempt reunions when so much pain, conflict and confusion seem to be involved. Reunion, though, does not cause these difficulties. Their source is the natural mother's unnatural separation from her child. The feelings already exist, and leaving them buried beneath denials and fantasies cannot resolve or eliminate them. However painful the separation experience may be, it is her experience, her life. Attempting to suppress the most profound experience of her life separates the natural mother from herself as well as from her child and is not healthy for anyone. It requires that much emotional energy be spent on denying or numbing feelings, limiting emotional growth in all areas. Your natural mother's fear and dread are evidence of the intensity of her feelings for you. If she had no feeling for you, you would be no more frightening to her than a store clerk or a stranger asking for directions. What she feels may be an overwhelmingly intense but undifferentiated fear and she herself may not understand the reasons for it. Her reasons are her deepest emotions, hidden under so may layers of intellect, rationaliztion and denial that she is unaware of them. She may try to give sensible reasons why she cannot see, understand or articulate the real reasons without much self analysis. You are offering the opportunity for your natural mother to grow by facing herself and becoming reconciled with her feelings about herself. You are offering the gift of knowing the person her surrendered child has become. These are enormous gifts and you should be proud for offering them to her. In order to accept them, though, your natural mother must climb a painfully steep and rocky path through her many feelings about your surrender before she can move forward to reconciliation. Her ability to walk a part of that path or all of it is not a reflection on you or on your worth or on your importance to her but on how well she herself can deal with the fears and pains that your loss and society's attitudes about the surrender have caused her. With time and support your natural mother may grow to accept the gifts you offer. by Carole Anderson Copyright 1982 by Concerned United Birthparents, Inc. 2000 Walker Street, Des Moines, IA 50317