I was adopted and once had two mothers. Once thought I was loved beyond measure. Seems like neither one of them were unselfish enough to love me whole heartedly. I have since started a new life, with a family I love and cherish. I had to go forward in life and stop reaching behind into my past. I am without one mother , she died five years ago. I am without the other one because she chose her life , in denial, and running from things I reminded her of.
Although, I loved them both. I have had to remember that is not a reflection on me. That is not who I can and will be. I do not have to carry all that love and loss with me like a part of my soul. Sadly, it still bothers me. But I will continue in my journey of life, trying desperately to forgive myself for carrying all that guilt, shame, and loneliness. I am better because of my past. I am free to love, laugh, and live.
If you struggle with being rejected, or losing a life of love because of someone, or a loss of a parents love that you so desperately seek, I am sorry. It is not a pleasant thing to have to live down or get over. You have to keep going, keep loving, keep accepting love, because you are WORTH IT. Learn to forgive those people who have hurt you, move on. The best thing I did for myself was to love from a distance. Forgiveness came hard but I gave it, to them. I can say I love them and still be the me, I am.
I already post so much daily but I had something I needed to share.
I am adopted. Many things around that helped me to become who I am today. I know there ae many of you out there who have contemplated adopting and I would not want to discourage that by any means. I just want to talk about my story. I know there are many out there like me, who have a story different from the ones you hear. The television, books, and news make adoption out to be the best thing sometimes, and while that is the case for many, it is not for others.
I am not a “bash adoption person”, on the contrary…
If you can love someone completely, without bias or harm, then do it! Lots of children, and others need to be adopted. They need love, nurturing, caring and a stable home environment. If though you are seeking adoption for any other self satisfying urges, desires or fulfillment, or to be a “savior” to someone then you might want to think about it over again. No one wants someone to adopt them out of pity or because you feel like being a good Samaritan. They want actual caring, selfless people. Humans are and must not be an “agenda” for anyone seeking monetary praise. You are not here to necessarily “save” another individual. You might find you are the one who they save. Just saying.
I was adopted as an infant. I did not have my world turned upside down by being ripped out of the arms of my biological parents. I did not have a life where I was taken from the only family I had and given away to some orphanage. I was not found on a door step.
I was adopted by a family member. I was adopted in a court of law. I was too young to decide where I wanted to go and frankly I did not have a difficult time being placed in my relatives home. I was a baby! Some other people may not have had the same experiences as I but that is okay.
My biological father died before my adoption. He was fatally shot. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. My biological mother was alone for the first time with two kids. She did not fair well with all that, let’s just say. She was not able to care for me and my sister. She had to leave me with my grandfather, and then I was adopted by my Aunt.
I never really understood the power of that dark period for my biological mother back then. I figured liked most she was taking the easy route. I figured she was being a sorry mother. I never fully understood how she must have felt back then. Now, I can somewhat see what she must of felt. Years I hated her, yet hate seems like a too strong of word for how I felt about her. I never saw her till I became an adult, and then it was like a lightbulb came on and I felt something I never knew I could, about her. She made me sad, she made me feel pity for her. I realized the first time I saw her, that she was actually a HUMAN…yeah, seems she was not one until I actually saw her.
I so hoped that first time, I would get all my answers answered, but I did not. wanted to hug her and hear about how much she missed me, but I did not hear that. I also thought we would get together and go to her house and she would show me her life and what all she did, but that never ever happened. I was standing before my own biological mother and felt more of a stranger than I did her own flesh and blood. I felt so out-of-place and awkward. Here, I had waited 23 years to see her, to talk to her, to hug her, to know her… They say parting is such sweet sorrow, but that day felt like terrible sorrow. I was happy to finally see her, and I was delighted to hear her voice, smell her perfume, and touch her skin. Sadly, I was wanting this instant connection, this simultaneous combustion. It was not there.
I was more at home in a hotel lobby than I felt with her. That was okay because I was determined for us to change all that.
Some times things do not go as we plan…sometimes they never will. We should expect the least from someone and we will never be disappointed.
I was finally face to face with this ICONIC figure in my life. Even though she was not an active participant in my life, that did not matter, she was. I found myself looking her up and down and studying her talk, studying her walk, and mannerisms. I was soaking all that up like a “sponge in water”.
Photo by Acharaporn Kamornboonyarush on Pexels.com
I remember that first day, when I heard that you were not doing well. I thought in my mind at that time that this was just a set back, possible short-term, but that you would get through it all. You was having to go on Dialysis and was told that your kidneys were hardly functioning like they should. Honestly I did not know much about that sort of treatment, just what I knew from transporting my client to their on weekly dialysis treatments,
I was a driver that took clients to where they needed to go, usually all of the many trips was to pick up someone and take them to their health appointments or medical needs appointments. I had several patients who went through Dialysis several times a week. Each time I dropped them off, I wondered about how they each must feel knowing that their kidneys were failing them. Being a diabetic I often think on those type of things for myself, like if something were to happen to my own kidneys, and such.
Now here I was hearing that my own biological mother was very sick and that she needed to do dialysis to continue living. her prognosis was very bad. They had told her that she needed a new kidney and that without one she would probably not survive for long. The dialysis was to sustain her enough to live, and filter all the bad things from her bladder. I was in sort of shock. I was worried for her and yet all I did was think about myself and how my life would be impacted without her in it.
Here she was my own mother and we had yet to build a life together. Everything was hanging in the balance and we looked like we would end before even really beginning, I know I should have thought more about her and what she was going through the most, but that selfish me was trying to compartmentalized things. I think all of us are that way when faced with losing someone. We all wonder how our life will be after they are gone, if they die. We all want to cling onto things we maybe hadn’t done before or we want to say things to them that would ease our own minds.
I was that way to a certain extent.
My biological mom was not alone, she had her husband there with her, thank goodness. I think her having to do that without someone there would have been so scary for her, for anyone. She had 6 children and out of them I was the next to oldest. A part of me feared what role I would have to take, if any, should she not make it. Crazy how things like that run through your head. You know? I really should have kept hope before fear.
She pulled through the harsh dialysis treatments, she was a trooper. her husband told me it took almost all of her energy after doing one treatment. he said she was so tired and all she wanted to do was rest. I can see that. My clients after I picked them up from their treatments, were paler and quieter, and each one they endured, changed them in subtle ways. you could see from week to week how different it made them. It was hard to see, and even harder for me to know it was my mom going through that to.
My mom was not a diabetic like me, I guess it was just the luck of the draw that her kidneys stopped working for her. Maybe she didn’t know how to properly care for herself, by possibly not drinking enough water or eliminating quickly when she felt the urge to urinate. I had heard those things are necessary for over all kidney health. Maybe that was it. Who knows.
All I knew was that a person, my mom, was deathly sick and I wanted her to get better and be around so we could finally make a life together.
Needless to say my mom is not here anymore. I cannot say that dialysis shortened her life, but my own hunch says it did. She never fully recovered from those type of treatments. She had the valve in her arm that provided quick access to her veins etc for quick dialysis treatment. Her weight started dropping, her features started to change and her hair was more grey. It was hard watching that,
My fear that she would not be around long came true before she died I mailed her a letter, a big letter. I wanted to say somethings, express some things and let her know how I really felt about her. She had given me up to be adopted, and there was a lot of history there. I needed her to know that I had no hard feelings towards her, and that I loved her, that God loved her too. I told her how much she was thought of and how often I had dreamed of her. Things I should have got to say to her long before then.
Circumstances kept us apart. Things got in our way, as they often do. I made peace long ago, and wanted to give it to her too.
Don’t wait to let someone know your heart. Don’t be afraid to tell them what you want to. Life can go as quickly as it can come. It is not here forever. Show the people in your life, while you can, how much they mean to you. If there is someone you need to forgive, forgive them. Don’t hold onto things that cry so desperately to be set free.
Time does not change very much for me much when it comes to the relationships around me. Often I have tried to find some more meaning, purpose, and reason for the way things usually end up, have been, and so forth. As I get older I have been able to come to terms with very little with my manipulated, messed up family ties. See I never understood what is so wrong that it can’t be mended? What is so distorted that each of us cannot truly see? I am referring to my family, of course.
Let me lay some ground work into the background that I am trying to write about. I was adopted as an infant. I was not given to strangers but to my biological father’s sister. The circumstances behind and leading to this is one of those distorted, crooked, manipulated things I mentioned before. I wish I could go back in time and really get the low down on what happened during that time period, but for the sake of not hurting everyone’s feeling in my family, I will let that part go. I was raised in the home of my bio Aunt and her husband, my older ( bio cousin) sister, and my (bio cousin) brother. I know, it gets confusing. Easiest way to explain is my Aunt adopted me.
I remember bringing up the questions to my adopted mother, about where did I come from. I also remember that every time I did that, she would not take it very well. For the longest time I kept my questions very limited. I would refrain from them because I saw the way she looked at me and acted. I did not ever want her to think I was not grateful for her love, or that I wanted to go live with the “unknown” family. I remember many times as a teenager I was torn as to my own feelings of “something missing” and the fact that here I had this family I had been reared in and I frankly had such a battle that it near darn drove me insane. I felt so torn that I felt isolated and a burden to the family I now had. I also felt like no matter how much they said they loved me, they were not completely honest about that. I felt like little orphan Annie, no kidding. I know that sounds weird, after all I was not orphaned and lived with a family , doing the “family” thing.
I guess no one will ever understand the torment I felt. I wanted to know who I walked like, who I talked like, whose eyes I had, etc. I was in a position where my motives and questions were examined and meant to mean I was not happy where I was and that I wanted to go live with my biological family. That was not the reasons behind my curiosity, but I never could help the family I was living with to understand that. To them it was betrayal. It was not normal. In a way I understand their position that maybe it would mean those dreadful things, like I did not love them, want them, or like living with them, but then again, what did they think when adopting me? Did they honestly think I could be part of a family , that I never saw and was not allowed to be around, and not want to know? I was kept from certain family members because there was a conflict there, somewhere in the family line that said if I was adopted into another part of the family, then the old parts of the family were not to be around me, Say what! I know, is that not crazy messed up? So much between the lines, like I have stated.
So here I am this predicament and no one will tell me anything more than tidbits, pieces, and most certainly their own versions of the story behind my adoption. Now I am a teenager that is confused, hurt, and misplaced. I really think that bothered more than my own mother letting me be adopted out. The fact that I could never be around the connecting family members to my adoption, and the fact that the biological family, I did not get to know. Bad enough was that but I never saw one picture. All the pictures of things were hidden from me as well. I was clueless as to the vast enormity of the concealment to keep me in the dark. It was and still remains not right. I deserved to know things like any other kid who gets adopted. Especially since it was my own family line that adopted me.
Little by little these types of relationships, etc. affected me and still do today. I often think back to the many years that I could had of had a peaceful heart. Many times, many missed opportunities to actually feel a part of something. When a person is kept from those that are a part of them, they begin to change, to feel there is nothing more for their life. I struggle with “forever” in aspects of my life. Sometimes feeling so isolated and left out of the whole family. I see those around me that have experienced years of togetherness and I long for that.
My immediate family consists of three kids, a husband, and 3 grandkids. I have a cousin who was in my life before and after adoption, for whom I cherish. She has shown me that no matter what I was kept from when I was young, does not have to dictate my today and what I can have now. She taught me to look for my blessings in the here and now. She is an encourager and she is the best. Now that I am older, I try to do what she wants me to do and I try to hold onto the people, family, etc. I now have and the ones that want to be in my life.
Life is what we make of it. Our past does not define our future. Sure we carry lots of things around with us, like my search for love, belonging, purpose, etc. There is no doubt though, that life is what you take from and re-arrange some, and dispose of. It is the good times the bad times, the in between times and the knowledge you gain. Live your life with those you love around you, never stop questioning things, don’t stop believing and hoping in things.