Nmom's letter and WTF

This has been a strange weekend. Bot the kids were sick, I mean really really puking in a bucket all night and day sick, and it ended up being strep. WTF?

But anyway. I stayed home with them on Monday and while they were watching Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs over and over and over, I got myself down and busy cleaning. Cleaning out the mud room, cleaning out the desk, going through piles of old papers and letters and finally pitching some shit that needed to go. Ahhhh that feels so good, now I have room to stash more shit.

In the midst of my cleaning and pitching, I cam across a letter that I thought had been lost. It was the letter my mother wrote to me right after the social wrecker contacted her to let her know I was searching for her.

I haven't opened it up until this morning.

One thing really stands out to me, in the very first paragraph...

...All of the mixed emotions that I had made the decision of adopting you out very difficult. I had to think beyond the love I had for you and concentrate on your future life. The adoption agency counseled me as I had many questions regarding adoption. I and your father then made our decision that this was the right thing to do....

The Agency counseled her, all right. For almost 4 months, while I was hidden away in some foster home, probably being ignored and drugged up on phenobarbitol, the agency "counseled" her. And of course, with me being out of sight, out of mind and the undoubtedly constant pressure on her to "do the right thing" I became another statistic. Another boost to their profit margin.

I feel like swearing.

And to this day she holds on to the belief that she did the right thing, even in not naming me because she "felt that she would be giving my aparents a great gift by letting them be the ones to name me." Guess she wasn't told about sealed records and amended birth certificates, because they would have just renamed me anyway.

And I wonder what my foster carers called me for almost 4 months. I mean, jesus, the had to call me something.

This is all just completely fucked up. My foundations are of abandonment, isolation, neglect. No wonder I have felt like such an outcast all my life.

But on a happier note, my nbro has joined FB, I am so happy. Now maybe we can finally "talk" more and start a decent, real relationship. We have missed out on so much of each others lives, I don't want to waste any more time.

Relating to the APs

I have been doing it again. Reading the blogs of APs and PAPs and finding myself getting all annoyed and wondering, just what the hell is this world coming to?

Anyway.

I was reading one particular blog post by a woman who is adamant that her infertility pain entitles her to adopt a child, and to hell with the "haters" (as she calls us, lol) because HER adoption will be open and wonderful and everyone will feast on jellybeans for breakfast under their bright red with white polkadotted toadstools. Because adoption is a fairytale wonderland like that, dontcha know.

And it got me to thinking, wow, this woman is going to be in for a very rude awakening someday. Maybe not until her adopted child hits puberty, or turns 18, or is 34 and giving birth to her third child...but it will hit home eventually.

I can't think of a single adopted person, that I know personally, who hasn't thought (if not said) to their ap's, "You're not my REAL mother." I never said it, but boy did I think it. Lots.

And nobody can say I didn't love my amom. She was the best, the best of the best, but there was always that part of me that kept that distance real. I don't know how else to describe it...I mean my amom and I were close and I loved her soooo much, but deep inside, I always had that....knowledge? Understanding? that she wasn't my REAL mother.

I remember getting my first period. I didn't know wtf was going on; I mean I knew what periods were and all that, but you know, it was kind of a surprise and I was a little bit scared. I went to my amom of course, and she was all understanding and told me what to do, but all I kept thinking was, "I want my mother. I want my REAL mother." As great as my amom was, I was just convinced that she had absolutely NO understanding of this sort of thing. I mean, she adopted me, right? So that probably meant she didn't even HAVE periods.

Yeah yeah corny I know. But it just goes to show that even in the best of adoption relationships, there will be that tension...that separation...that, shit, I don't know how to describe it. But it's there.