Reactions
Before my brother "L" left for home, he made me promise that I would call my parents. He too wanted it out in the open so everybody can enjoy the reunion. After taking "L" to the airport I knew that it was time for me to get on the phone and talk with my parents about everything that was going on in my life. I felt guilty because I had always been honest with them before and knew that they were behind me 100%. I think maybe I felt guilty and worried that they would be hurt. My birthmom also wanted to make sure that they knew before we met up. I talked to "R" (older abrother) before doing so. "R" wondered if although they were always receptive and open, if him calling them to pave the way would be easier. You see "R" was my protector of sorts. He always had and still has my back when there's trouble, woes or laughter. I'm blessed to have a wonderful brother and mentor like "R" and wouldn't trade him for all the tea in China. But I had to do this on my own. I thanked him and made the call....
It was Sunday late afternoon and right before the evening news. That's always a good time to get my parents together to talk because they are sitting down to the news having an evening cocktail before dinner. I sat down on the floor by the phone and made myself comfortable while I made the call. My mom answered and we sat there chit chatting for a few minutes. I finally told her to make herself a drink and sit down because I needed to tell her something. My mom's reaction everytime I told her that I need to tell her something was "YOUR PREGNANT"!!! UGH - and my pat answer was always "YOU WISH". Again, this was her guess as to what I had to tell her. Gotta love her though - she's got character with alot of spunk.
I explained to her what I did and what had happened thus far. She was relaying everything back to my dad. I kind of stopped and said "you are okay aren't you?" Their answers were, "that's wonderful honey, what took you so long!!! Tell us all about them!!!" What a relief and weight lifted off of my shoulders. I knew it would be okay, but well.... Anyway, as I talked with my mom I explained how I really wanted the family to be involved in the reunion. I wanted them to experience it with me. They thought it was a terrific idea. A little hesitant at first but I think that was because they didn't want to be in the way. My father has told us kids time and time again how he'd go to the ends of the earth for us. Our happiness and well being was his highest priority and my father meant every word of that. I'll have to tell you more about my dad at a later time.
I already had a pre-date set up to meet "J" my birthmom. I explained to my mom that my wish was that she would go with me to meet "J". I wanted the 2 most important women of my life in the same room together. The one who gave me life and the one who kept it going. My mom was a little worried that "J" would feel out of place, but I explained to her that I'll make sure it's okay first with all parties. The infamous date was the day after Thanksgiving, 2000 in Northern California. My birthmom and her hubby were coming in from Oregon and my brother "L" (this was our 2nd visit together) and my sister "C" were coming in from Arizona and Texas respectively (I know they're scattered all over - lol). Me?? I was with my mom, my hubby "J" and our son "A" coming down from the mountains of California to our meeting destination.
And away we go......
Thursday, January 19, 2006
A Reunion to Remember
After our initial phone reunion we talked on the phone, IM'd each other and sent pictures to one another so we could get some sort of a glimmer as to what each of us looked like. One of my siblings "L" and I spoke the most. He was so curious and wanted to know EVERYTHING. He wanted to know what my family was like, was I happy, what kind of school did I attend and the list goes on and on. There was so much information that I had to keep a notebook by me to write everything down so I wouldn't forget anything. I also kept a journal during this time. I wanted all my emotions written down.
I called the agency because I wanted confirmation that the birthfamily I found was the correct family. I spoke with the social worker who gave me the name of the search angel when I was searching. She was one of the sweetest and compassionate people that I have ever met. She told me that she would pull my file and give me a call. In the meantime.....
The curiosity was killing my hubby "J". He wanted to see if I resembled anyone and told me he couldn't take it anymore and to call my brother "L" and tell him that plane tickets were waiting for him at the airport to come and visit us. I left a message for "L" telling me that I "couldn't take it anymore" and that he needed to call me. "L" returned my call that night and told me that I scared him because of my cryptic message. I didn't tell him that the plane tickets were at the airport I only said that I "couldn't take it anymore". Poor guy thought I was going to tell him that it was all a mistake and a joke. When I explained he said that he'd be on the plane that Friday. I couldn't believe it. I was finally going to meet someone that shared my DNA. Someone that could answer questions. But I still had this feeling of "what if I'm wrong about them being family" in my head. My heart told me the opposite - I was positive that I was right.
Now some of you might ask, why didn't you meet your birthmom first before your siblings? Easy, because my brain kept telling me to take it slow and I didn't want to be wrong about it. I wanted it to be true. I think "J" my birthmom felt the same. She knew in her heart that it was right but in her head she too wanted confirmation. "L" was the next oldest and we seemed to be the closest in personalities at the time. I felt comfortable talking with him.
Friday finally rolled around and I was in for a huge day ahead of me. Not only was I going to meet my bbrother for the first time, but one of my highschool best friends came over to see me. We hadn't seen each other in over 15 years. It was really great sharing it with her. By the late afternoon my nerves were shot. I was the manager of the complex where we were living. My hubby was telling EVERYBODY that would listen. It was really cute though. He was so proud. It reminded me of the day we became parents. We were both overjoyed with emotions.
The time came to pick up "L" from the airport. I had asked him how I would recognize him. He was coming in from Arizona and said "I'm 6'5" and will be wearing a black cowboy hat". As I stood in the area where they depart from the plane I was staring at every single tall man with a hat on. Do you realize how many tall men with hats come from Arizona - LOL. Alot I tell you ALOT!!! Out walks this guy that took one look at me and said "my God you look just like mom". It was my brother "L". He recognized me!!! What an awesome feeling. We hugged while "J" snapped photo after photo (btw, I have enough pictures to choke a horse thanks to "J"). "L" hugged me like he would never let go. "L" and I couldn't take our eyes off of each other. It was like we wanted to know every line in the face of one another to be imbedded in our brains forever.
We stayed up half the night talking and showing photo albums to one another. That night I woke up from a dead sleep and woke "J". I was half asleep and told him I had a dream that my brother was in my home. "J" said "your not dreaming honey". I made him get out of bed to check and make sure "L" was still there. He laughed at me and did it happily. I guess my mind was still in a bit of shock with all that was happening around me.
The next day we took "L" to where I grew up. He wanted to see my schools, home, etc. I guess it made him feel better knowing that things were okay for me. Throughout the evening of the next day neighbors came over to congratulate "L" and I. It was amazing. We talked, ate, drank and just had a great time. The last morning "L" was there we went to develop all the pictures so he could take some back with him. We started looking at the pictures and just stopped dead in our tracks. "J" pointed out how "L" and I stood the same, crossed our arms the same way, same expressions, etc. That old question of are characteristics hereditary or learned came into play. "L" also called my birthmom "J" and told her "oh yeah, she's ours"!!! It was kind of funny the way he said it.
"L" left that evening for his home. I missed him when he left, but knew that I'd see him again soon. I wasn't going to let go now that I found them.
The following week I called the social worker again to tell her that I had met my brother. She said "I was just going to call you, guess what I have on my desk." It was my file. She confirmed that we were correct in the family. She even told me what my room looked like when I was adopted. She had that room down to the curtains. It was a beautiful room and I remember it still. My mom wanted something different for me. I had lavender carpet with lavender, gold and pink polka dotted wallpaper on one wall with swiss dot white curtains. Maybe that's why my favorite color is purple. She even confirmed that the man I talked to about being listed as the father on my birth certificate was correct. Then it dawned on me, my birthmom and aunt saw the same man. Weird!!!!
Now I needed to get over the next hurdle... Meeting my birthmom face to face for the first time in 37 years.
After our initial phone reunion we talked on the phone, IM'd each other and sent pictures to one another so we could get some sort of a glimmer as to what each of us looked like. One of my siblings "L" and I spoke the most. He was so curious and wanted to know EVERYTHING. He wanted to know what my family was like, was I happy, what kind of school did I attend and the list goes on and on. There was so much information that I had to keep a notebook by me to write everything down so I wouldn't forget anything. I also kept a journal during this time. I wanted all my emotions written down.
I called the agency because I wanted confirmation that the birthfamily I found was the correct family. I spoke with the social worker who gave me the name of the search angel when I was searching. She was one of the sweetest and compassionate people that I have ever met. She told me that she would pull my file and give me a call. In the meantime.....
The curiosity was killing my hubby "J". He wanted to see if I resembled anyone and told me he couldn't take it anymore and to call my brother "L" and tell him that plane tickets were waiting for him at the airport to come and visit us. I left a message for "L" telling me that I "couldn't take it anymore" and that he needed to call me. "L" returned my call that night and told me that I scared him because of my cryptic message. I didn't tell him that the plane tickets were at the airport I only said that I "couldn't take it anymore". Poor guy thought I was going to tell him that it was all a mistake and a joke. When I explained he said that he'd be on the plane that Friday. I couldn't believe it. I was finally going to meet someone that shared my DNA. Someone that could answer questions. But I still had this feeling of "what if I'm wrong about them being family" in my head. My heart told me the opposite - I was positive that I was right.
Now some of you might ask, why didn't you meet your birthmom first before your siblings? Easy, because my brain kept telling me to take it slow and I didn't want to be wrong about it. I wanted it to be true. I think "J" my birthmom felt the same. She knew in her heart that it was right but in her head she too wanted confirmation. "L" was the next oldest and we seemed to be the closest in personalities at the time. I felt comfortable talking with him.
Friday finally rolled around and I was in for a huge day ahead of me. Not only was I going to meet my bbrother for the first time, but one of my highschool best friends came over to see me. We hadn't seen each other in over 15 years. It was really great sharing it with her. By the late afternoon my nerves were shot. I was the manager of the complex where we were living. My hubby was telling EVERYBODY that would listen. It was really cute though. He was so proud. It reminded me of the day we became parents. We were both overjoyed with emotions.
The time came to pick up "L" from the airport. I had asked him how I would recognize him. He was coming in from Arizona and said "I'm 6'5" and will be wearing a black cowboy hat". As I stood in the area where they depart from the plane I was staring at every single tall man with a hat on. Do you realize how many tall men with hats come from Arizona - LOL. Alot I tell you ALOT!!! Out walks this guy that took one look at me and said "my God you look just like mom". It was my brother "L". He recognized me!!! What an awesome feeling. We hugged while "J" snapped photo after photo (btw, I have enough pictures to choke a horse thanks to "J"). "L" hugged me like he would never let go. "L" and I couldn't take our eyes off of each other. It was like we wanted to know every line in the face of one another to be imbedded in our brains forever.
We stayed up half the night talking and showing photo albums to one another. That night I woke up from a dead sleep and woke "J". I was half asleep and told him I had a dream that my brother was in my home. "J" said "your not dreaming honey". I made him get out of bed to check and make sure "L" was still there. He laughed at me and did it happily. I guess my mind was still in a bit of shock with all that was happening around me.
The next day we took "L" to where I grew up. He wanted to see my schools, home, etc. I guess it made him feel better knowing that things were okay for me. Throughout the evening of the next day neighbors came over to congratulate "L" and I. It was amazing. We talked, ate, drank and just had a great time. The last morning "L" was there we went to develop all the pictures so he could take some back with him. We started looking at the pictures and just stopped dead in our tracks. "J" pointed out how "L" and I stood the same, crossed our arms the same way, same expressions, etc. That old question of are characteristics hereditary or learned came into play. "L" also called my birthmom "J" and told her "oh yeah, she's ours"!!! It was kind of funny the way he said it.
"L" left that evening for his home. I missed him when he left, but knew that I'd see him again soon. I wasn't going to let go now that I found them.
The following week I called the social worker again to tell her that I had met my brother. She said "I was just going to call you, guess what I have on my desk." It was my file. She confirmed that we were correct in the family. She even told me what my room looked like when I was adopted. She had that room down to the curtains. It was a beautiful room and I remember it still. My mom wanted something different for me. I had lavender carpet with lavender, gold and pink polka dotted wallpaper on one wall with swiss dot white curtains. Maybe that's why my favorite color is purple. She even confirmed that the man I talked to about being listed as the father on my birth certificate was correct. Then it dawned on me, my birthmom and aunt saw the same man. Weird!!!!
Now I needed to get over the next hurdle... Meeting my birthmom face to face for the first time in 37 years.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
The Search
My decision to search the 2nd time brought on some anxiety and maybe a little fear. Fear that maybe my birthmom wouldn't want to meet me. Fear that I didn't have any siblings. Fear that noone knew about me. Part of my decision to search was based on Fear that I would die alone. I know that sounds so stupid because I have a wonderful adoptive family, hubby that loves me and a son (remember he's adopted too) who is the light of my life. I had NO blood connection to anything!!! Nothing!!!! I was basically alone with my DNA with noone who shared it. I don't care what anybody says and as petty as that may sound, it is a very important part of everybody. "J" was behind me 100% and was my rock during this whole process. My older brother "R" was there too and offered to tell mom and dad that I decided to search. They knew that one day I would do it and offered to help with the search, but I just didn't want to tell them until I was ready. This was something that I had to do on my own.
So off on an adventure I went....
The first time I decided to search I did receive my non-identifying information. That gave me the basics. I knew how many siblings she had (13 of them) which ended up being a very important clue for me.
I spoke with a "search angel" in Oregon who helped me. We spoke on the phone one evening for almost 3 hours while he went through all his books and such finding me information. In that one phone call he found my amended birth certificate, a second amended birth certificate (they couldn't make up their mind on my name) and my original birth certificate. Since I was in California he told me how certain years they would use the same certificate number which I lucked out because that's how he found mine. The information included only the last name of my birthmother along with the full name of the birthfather. Well, that gave me a direction to go. Then he found a marriage certificate for the birthfather and the same last name as my birthmother 6 months after my birth. I kind of stopped myself and wondered why she married 6 months after my birth and not before. Now I had both names of my birthparents and a county to start my digging.
To our astonishment the birthfather's name was listed in the phone book for the same county where they were married. Early on in the decision to search I placed the phone calls in "J"s hands. His exact words were... "If there's going to be any rejection I'll be on the receiving end and not you". So he made the first call to the "birthfather". He confirmed that he was married to lady on the marriage certificate but knew nothing about me. He also confirmed that she had given a child away prior to their marriage. Well, there you have it - I found them right? Yikes - could this really be that easy.....
Yeah right!!! The birthfather then stated that they had divorced 3 years after their marriage and had not heard from her since then. He had no clue where she was and would not release anymore information to us.
Well, I thought I might be at a deadend because if she remarried I would not have a clue as to her new married name, the year that she remarried or what state she may have moved to with a possible new marriage. Then I remembered we had her maiden last name and first name from the marriage certificate. I knew she had 13 brothers and sisters and they were Mormons. And Mormons are known for family and every family has a tree...... Back to genealogy!!!!
I looked on the computer and found a family tree that had 13 brothers and sisters. My birthmom's name from the marriage certificate was on there!!! WOOHOO!!! success. I now had names of brothers (whose names don't change through marriage). I started looking in death records, phone books and came across a grave where one of the brothers were buried in the county where I was looking. I looked in the phone book and found a lady in the same town/ county (very very small town/county) where I was looking. A british lady answered and confirmed that she was the EX-wife of one of the brothers, but not the one buried. I did not tell this woman who I was or what I wanted in fear that she would just hang up on me. I just told her that I was "family" and was looking to locate "N". She told me "N"s new name and where I could find her. Well, that led me to another state's phone book and I found her number in Oregon. By this time I was shaking with fear, turning ice cold in my bones. "J" got home and wanted to make the call right then and there, but I had school. I was taking a spanish class at a local college and had a final that night. Besides "J" had to teach a class that evening and I really wanted to mull it over for a few hours. I got through the test, but barely. I was antsy and wanted to finish and get out of there. I finished and was on my way to what was to be a life changing event.
When I got home, I turned on the TV in hopes of just relaxing a minute and put my mind in neutral because it was in overdrive for so many hours. No such luck. "J" walked into the house and said "Let's do it Babe". So he called her..... She answered and "J" explained why he was calling. I then heard him ask "Are you my wife's birthmom?" Then there was silence and he hung up the phone. He looked at me and was white as a sheep. I thought oh Dear God what have we done. Then he laid the story on me. The lady we thought was my birthmom was actually my aunt (my birthmom's sister) who married my birthfather 6 months after my birth. She too relinquished a son 6 months older then me. She told "J" she's make a call and be back with us shortly. I know now that she did that to protect my birthmom. I'm glad she did.
Well, now I'm a nervous wreck and ready for a drink. Next thing I know the phone rings and "J" answered it. He asked "are you my wife's birthmom?" Her answer..... "Yes honey, I am". He told her to hang on and handed me the phone. Both of us were kind of dumb founded. We were both joyful and yet very nervous. She had so much to say and I didn't know what to say. That's when she told me that I had 6 half siblings. I about fell over on the floor and asked "J" to get me a drink (Hey, I deserved it at that point). "J" was all excited running around the house singing "it's an Oprah moment", and I told him "no it's not I haven't even told my mom and dad yet, you'd better not call Oprah".
My birthmom "J" answered all my questions with ease and told me about my siblings. They had been searching for me for the past 5 years prior and here I was. After we talked for about an hour she said that she wanted to call all the kids. She also said that she would have them call the next day because it was so late. I insisted that they call that night!!!
One by one they phoned me until the wee hours of the morning I think my bsis (only bsis rest are boys) phoned about 5:30 a.m. We exchanged addresses, phone number, birthdates, names, etc. It was SOOOO overwhelming, but in such a good way. My brother "T" was the last to call since he was moving and didn't have a phone yet. He knew nothing about me for several days.
Well, my circle was almost closed...... now for the 1st meeting.....
My decision to search the 2nd time brought on some anxiety and maybe a little fear. Fear that maybe my birthmom wouldn't want to meet me. Fear that I didn't have any siblings. Fear that noone knew about me. Part of my decision to search was based on Fear that I would die alone. I know that sounds so stupid because I have a wonderful adoptive family, hubby that loves me and a son (remember he's adopted too) who is the light of my life. I had NO blood connection to anything!!! Nothing!!!! I was basically alone with my DNA with noone who shared it. I don't care what anybody says and as petty as that may sound, it is a very important part of everybody. "J" was behind me 100% and was my rock during this whole process. My older brother "R" was there too and offered to tell mom and dad that I decided to search. They knew that one day I would do it and offered to help with the search, but I just didn't want to tell them until I was ready. This was something that I had to do on my own.
So off on an adventure I went....
The first time I decided to search I did receive my non-identifying information. That gave me the basics. I knew how many siblings she had (13 of them) which ended up being a very important clue for me.
I spoke with a "search angel" in Oregon who helped me. We spoke on the phone one evening for almost 3 hours while he went through all his books and such finding me information. In that one phone call he found my amended birth certificate, a second amended birth certificate (they couldn't make up their mind on my name) and my original birth certificate. Since I was in California he told me how certain years they would use the same certificate number which I lucked out because that's how he found mine. The information included only the last name of my birthmother along with the full name of the birthfather. Well, that gave me a direction to go. Then he found a marriage certificate for the birthfather and the same last name as my birthmother 6 months after my birth. I kind of stopped myself and wondered why she married 6 months after my birth and not before. Now I had both names of my birthparents and a county to start my digging.
To our astonishment the birthfather's name was listed in the phone book for the same county where they were married. Early on in the decision to search I placed the phone calls in "J"s hands. His exact words were... "If there's going to be any rejection I'll be on the receiving end and not you". So he made the first call to the "birthfather". He confirmed that he was married to lady on the marriage certificate but knew nothing about me. He also confirmed that she had given a child away prior to their marriage. Well, there you have it - I found them right? Yikes - could this really be that easy.....
Yeah right!!! The birthfather then stated that they had divorced 3 years after their marriage and had not heard from her since then. He had no clue where she was and would not release anymore information to us.
Well, I thought I might be at a deadend because if she remarried I would not have a clue as to her new married name, the year that she remarried or what state she may have moved to with a possible new marriage. Then I remembered we had her maiden last name and first name from the marriage certificate. I knew she had 13 brothers and sisters and they were Mormons. And Mormons are known for family and every family has a tree...... Back to genealogy!!!!
I looked on the computer and found a family tree that had 13 brothers and sisters. My birthmom's name from the marriage certificate was on there!!! WOOHOO!!! success. I now had names of brothers (whose names don't change through marriage). I started looking in death records, phone books and came across a grave where one of the brothers were buried in the county where I was looking. I looked in the phone book and found a lady in the same town/ county (very very small town/county) where I was looking. A british lady answered and confirmed that she was the EX-wife of one of the brothers, but not the one buried. I did not tell this woman who I was or what I wanted in fear that she would just hang up on me. I just told her that I was "family" and was looking to locate "N". She told me "N"s new name and where I could find her. Well, that led me to another state's phone book and I found her number in Oregon. By this time I was shaking with fear, turning ice cold in my bones. "J" got home and wanted to make the call right then and there, but I had school. I was taking a spanish class at a local college and had a final that night. Besides "J" had to teach a class that evening and I really wanted to mull it over for a few hours. I got through the test, but barely. I was antsy and wanted to finish and get out of there. I finished and was on my way to what was to be a life changing event.
When I got home, I turned on the TV in hopes of just relaxing a minute and put my mind in neutral because it was in overdrive for so many hours. No such luck. "J" walked into the house and said "Let's do it Babe". So he called her..... She answered and "J" explained why he was calling. I then heard him ask "Are you my wife's birthmom?" Then there was silence and he hung up the phone. He looked at me and was white as a sheep. I thought oh Dear God what have we done. Then he laid the story on me. The lady we thought was my birthmom was actually my aunt (my birthmom's sister) who married my birthfather 6 months after my birth. She too relinquished a son 6 months older then me. She told "J" she's make a call and be back with us shortly. I know now that she did that to protect my birthmom. I'm glad she did.
Well, now I'm a nervous wreck and ready for a drink. Next thing I know the phone rings and "J" answered it. He asked "are you my wife's birthmom?" Her answer..... "Yes honey, I am". He told her to hang on and handed me the phone. Both of us were kind of dumb founded. We were both joyful and yet very nervous. She had so much to say and I didn't know what to say. That's when she told me that I had 6 half siblings. I about fell over on the floor and asked "J" to get me a drink (Hey, I deserved it at that point). "J" was all excited running around the house singing "it's an Oprah moment", and I told him "no it's not I haven't even told my mom and dad yet, you'd better not call Oprah".
My birthmom "J" answered all my questions with ease and told me about my siblings. They had been searching for me for the past 5 years prior and here I was. After we talked for about an hour she said that she wanted to call all the kids. She also said that she would have them call the next day because it was so late. I insisted that they call that night!!!
One by one they phoned me until the wee hours of the morning I think my bsis (only bsis rest are boys) phoned about 5:30 a.m. We exchanged addresses, phone number, birthdates, names, etc. It was SOOOO overwhelming, but in such a good way. My brother "T" was the last to call since he was moving and didn't have a phone yet. He knew nothing about me for several days.
Well, my circle was almost closed...... now for the 1st meeting.....
Why I Searched
I guess that my first thoughts of searching were when I was a teenager. Every adopted person has questions in the back of their mind.
Even though I was adopted I resembled my older brother who was a natural son of my parents. I also had a little sister who was 3 years younger than I who also was a natural daughter of my parents. My sister didn't resemble anyone in the family much and my brother used to tease her telling her that she was the adopted one and not me. Thinking back it wasn't very nice of him, but she was the brat little sister - KWIM?
I got married very young. In fact "J" and I met in February and he proposed in April on my birthday and we were married in June of the same year in the early 80's. Some call it a whirlwind romance. I call it pure LUCK that it's lasted this long.
I got pregnant right after we were engaged and lost it almost half way through the pregnancy. Got pregnant again almost right after and same thing. We were devastated. The doctors couldn't find anything medically wrong with me. They told us the usual "just relax". But in 1985 my world was flipped upside down.
I started having really bad pains in my lower right side. At first we thought it was appendicitis and "J" would rush me to the emergency room. They'd run test after test and come back with a Demerol injection and tell me to go home that they couldn't find anything wrong. The pain would cease for a month or two then come back with a vengance. The emergency room knew me pretty well and would tell me the same thing (shoot me up with Demerol and send me home). During this time we were seeing a fertility specialist as to why I kept miscarrying and then couldn't get pregnant. She asked about medical history and it dawned on me - I HAVE NONE!!! She put me on fertility drugs and such. My hormones were raging and completely out of control. I'm surprised "J" didn't leave - lol. Poor guy. He knew when to hit the bar for a beer or go work out in the studio.
In December of 1985 the pain came back and this time it didn't leave. I suffered with it for 2 weeks through the Christmas Holiday because the hospital kept telling me it was in my mind. I finally called my fertility specialist and she told me to meet her in the ER. So, there we were, New Year's Eve in the ER. I couldn't sit, walk, lay down, keep anything in my stomach, I was dehydrated and was basically doubled up. That's when she did an ultra sound (something none of the doctors before did) and found that I had a mass in my stomach. She thought it was a cyst and put me on birth control pills in hopes that it would shrink and be removable. She wanted to hospitalize me that night but I refused. It was New Year's Eve and I really wanted to be home with "J". They sent me home with massive pain pills and something to take so I could at least keep water in my system. I waited until January 6th and went back to the doctor because I just couldn't bear the pain anymore. The pain pills weren't helping and I was miserable and ready to cut myself open and take out whatever was in there (seriously that painful).
She scheduled the surgery for the 8th and I headed over to the hospital for all the tests. That in itself was a comedy. I have very very small veins and they roll and collapse when they try to draw blood. Well they wanted to do an IVP where they shoot dye into your veins to see where the kidneys and lines that run to the bladder are set. They couldn't find a vein. I was miserable with pain and scared out of my mind. I hated and still hate needles. They wouldn't let "J" come in with me because it was in the radiology department and I wanted out of there. Well, this doctor came in and I recognized him. He was the one who did the hystersolpingogram on me previously. If you've ever had one - UGH it's painful. Anyway he remembered me because I wouldn't let him run that specific test for the 5th time because I was in so much pain. So he decided to get even and said to me, "if I can't find a vein in your arm, I'm going for your neck". That was all it took, I flew off the table and headed down the hallways holding the gown together in the back (I swear this is a true story). All of a sudden I heard my name paged telling me to pick up the "white phone". Well I finally found a "white phone" and picked it up. It was my doctor trying to console me and telling me how they need the test done in order to do surgery. I was in tears and shaking. I loved my doctor because she understood as a woman what I was experiencing. "J" found me in the hallway and came to my rescue. He joked with me to point out the doctor and he'd knock him around a little - LOL. Anyway, they got a an expert needle person in there and they finally found a vein in my arm (I was black and blue for weeks after that).
The morning of the 8th, I signed for 5 different surgeries. My doctor wasn't sure what she would find when she went in there. I could except anything from small incisions to full blown zipper. Well, luck wasn't with me.... I have a nice sized scar on my tummy from them having to do major surgery. They found that my left tube was the size of a grapefruit (11cm) and twisted. The other tube's fimbria was tucked in and fused. So they removed my left tube but left the right one in (even though damaged) because of my age at the time and possible microsurgery.
My hubby and mom were there for me when I finally got in my room. The doctor came in and we were discussing what happened (well they were actually, I was in and out of it). They said that everything was normal except for the size. They ran tests and found NO diseases or anything (i.e. clomidia, etc). She said that I was a text book page because they can't figure it out and said that I might have been born with a defect and as I matured it progressed.
Those words came out again as to "Do you have any medical information?" Those words kept haunting me because I wondered if it was something hereditary. So I decided to search....
I sent my information to the agency and they sent me the Mutual Consent Forms. I signed them and sent everything off. Then a wave of panic crossed over me. I can't explain it, but at that moment I thought that I had made a huge mistake signing that paper. I mean I wanted to meet my birthmom, but through a 2 way mirror where I can see her, but she can't see out. So, I rescinded the form and asked them to pull it from my file.
It wasn't until 14 years later that I finally resolved to the fact that I needed to search for my own ease of mind. I wanted to know things. Did I have any siblings, medical information, who did I resemble, etc. Actually, I didn't want to know these things I HAD to know these things.
I guess that my first thoughts of searching were when I was a teenager. Every adopted person has questions in the back of their mind.
Even though I was adopted I resembled my older brother who was a natural son of my parents. I also had a little sister who was 3 years younger than I who also was a natural daughter of my parents. My sister didn't resemble anyone in the family much and my brother used to tease her telling her that she was the adopted one and not me. Thinking back it wasn't very nice of him, but she was the brat little sister - KWIM?
I got married very young. In fact "J" and I met in February and he proposed in April on my birthday and we were married in June of the same year in the early 80's. Some call it a whirlwind romance. I call it pure LUCK that it's lasted this long.
I got pregnant right after we were engaged and lost it almost half way through the pregnancy. Got pregnant again almost right after and same thing. We were devastated. The doctors couldn't find anything medically wrong with me. They told us the usual "just relax". But in 1985 my world was flipped upside down.
I started having really bad pains in my lower right side. At first we thought it was appendicitis and "J" would rush me to the emergency room. They'd run test after test and come back with a Demerol injection and tell me to go home that they couldn't find anything wrong. The pain would cease for a month or two then come back with a vengance. The emergency room knew me pretty well and would tell me the same thing (shoot me up with Demerol and send me home). During this time we were seeing a fertility specialist as to why I kept miscarrying and then couldn't get pregnant. She asked about medical history and it dawned on me - I HAVE NONE!!! She put me on fertility drugs and such. My hormones were raging and completely out of control. I'm surprised "J" didn't leave - lol. Poor guy. He knew when to hit the bar for a beer or go work out in the studio.
In December of 1985 the pain came back and this time it didn't leave. I suffered with it for 2 weeks through the Christmas Holiday because the hospital kept telling me it was in my mind. I finally called my fertility specialist and she told me to meet her in the ER. So, there we were, New Year's Eve in the ER. I couldn't sit, walk, lay down, keep anything in my stomach, I was dehydrated and was basically doubled up. That's when she did an ultra sound (something none of the doctors before did) and found that I had a mass in my stomach. She thought it was a cyst and put me on birth control pills in hopes that it would shrink and be removable. She wanted to hospitalize me that night but I refused. It was New Year's Eve and I really wanted to be home with "J". They sent me home with massive pain pills and something to take so I could at least keep water in my system. I waited until January 6th and went back to the doctor because I just couldn't bear the pain anymore. The pain pills weren't helping and I was miserable and ready to cut myself open and take out whatever was in there (seriously that painful).
She scheduled the surgery for the 8th and I headed over to the hospital for all the tests. That in itself was a comedy. I have very very small veins and they roll and collapse when they try to draw blood. Well they wanted to do an IVP where they shoot dye into your veins to see where the kidneys and lines that run to the bladder are set. They couldn't find a vein. I was miserable with pain and scared out of my mind. I hated and still hate needles. They wouldn't let "J" come in with me because it was in the radiology department and I wanted out of there. Well, this doctor came in and I recognized him. He was the one who did the hystersolpingogram on me previously. If you've ever had one - UGH it's painful. Anyway he remembered me because I wouldn't let him run that specific test for the 5th time because I was in so much pain. So he decided to get even and said to me, "if I can't find a vein in your arm, I'm going for your neck". That was all it took, I flew off the table and headed down the hallways holding the gown together in the back (I swear this is a true story). All of a sudden I heard my name paged telling me to pick up the "white phone". Well I finally found a "white phone" and picked it up. It was my doctor trying to console me and telling me how they need the test done in order to do surgery. I was in tears and shaking. I loved my doctor because she understood as a woman what I was experiencing. "J" found me in the hallway and came to my rescue. He joked with me to point out the doctor and he'd knock him around a little - LOL. Anyway, they got a an expert needle person in there and they finally found a vein in my arm (I was black and blue for weeks after that).
The morning of the 8th, I signed for 5 different surgeries. My doctor wasn't sure what she would find when she went in there. I could except anything from small incisions to full blown zipper. Well, luck wasn't with me.... I have a nice sized scar on my tummy from them having to do major surgery. They found that my left tube was the size of a grapefruit (11cm) and twisted. The other tube's fimbria was tucked in and fused. So they removed my left tube but left the right one in (even though damaged) because of my age at the time and possible microsurgery.
My hubby and mom were there for me when I finally got in my room. The doctor came in and we were discussing what happened (well they were actually, I was in and out of it). They said that everything was normal except for the size. They ran tests and found NO diseases or anything (i.e. clomidia, etc). She said that I was a text book page because they can't figure it out and said that I might have been born with a defect and as I matured it progressed.
Those words came out again as to "Do you have any medical information?" Those words kept haunting me because I wondered if it was something hereditary. So I decided to search....
I sent my information to the agency and they sent me the Mutual Consent Forms. I signed them and sent everything off. Then a wave of panic crossed over me. I can't explain it, but at that moment I thought that I had made a huge mistake signing that paper. I mean I wanted to meet my birthmom, but through a 2 way mirror where I can see her, but she can't see out. So, I rescinded the form and asked them to pull it from my file.
It wasn't until 14 years later that I finally resolved to the fact that I needed to search for my own ease of mind. I wanted to know things. Did I have any siblings, medical information, who did I resemble, etc. Actually, I didn't want to know these things I HAD to know these things.
DON'T STOP DANCING
At times life is wicked and I just can't see the light
A silver lining sometimes isn't enough
To make some wrongs seem right
Whatever life bringsI've been through everything
And now I'm on my knees again
But I know I must go on
Although I hurt I must be strong
Because inside I know that manyfeel this way
Children don't stop dancing
Believe you can fly Away.... Away...
At times life's unfair and you know it's plain to see
Hey god I know I'm just a dot in this world
Have you forgot about me?
Whatever life bringsI've been through everything
And now I'm on my knees again
But I know I must go on
Although I hurt I must be strong
Because inside I know that manyfeel this way
Am I hiding in the shadows?
Forget the pain and forget the sorrows
But I know I must go on
Although I hurt I must be strong
Because inside I know that many feel this way
Children's don't stop dancing
believe you can fly Away.... Away...
Am I hiding in the shadows?
Are we hiding in the shadows?
CREED
At times life is wicked and I just can't see the light
A silver lining sometimes isn't enough
To make some wrongs seem right
Whatever life bringsI've been through everything
And now I'm on my knees again
But I know I must go on
Although I hurt I must be strong
Because inside I know that manyfeel this way
Children don't stop dancing
Believe you can fly Away.... Away...
At times life's unfair and you know it's plain to see
Hey god I know I'm just a dot in this world
Have you forgot about me?
Whatever life bringsI've been through everything
And now I'm on my knees again
But I know I must go on
Although I hurt I must be strong
Because inside I know that manyfeel this way
Am I hiding in the shadows?
Forget the pain and forget the sorrows
But I know I must go on
Although I hurt I must be strong
Because inside I know that many feel this way
Children's don't stop dancing
believe you can fly Away.... Away...
Am I hiding in the shadows?
Are we hiding in the shadows?
CREED
Just an Ordinary Day
When I was little, my big brother (9 years my senior and natural child of my parents) would take me outside to play. We'd wrestle, play tag or hide and go seek. He was always there for me. Funny, he still is.... But there's one day that will stick in my mind until the day I die.
It did start out an ordinary day. I was about 5 or so playing with "R" in the front yard. We were wrestling around when he suddenly stopped and said "you know you're special". Being about 5 I didn't understand and thought he was teasing me like he always did. But then he went on to say "because you're adopted". Needless to say, I had no clue what he was talking about much less really knowing what adopted meant. I asked him what it was and he said "a nurse saw that your parents were fighting and came in the room and snatched you away. That's how you got here".
Well, considering that my big brother always teased me, I didn't know really what to think. Of course being the little sister I told him that I was going to rat him out to Mom - LOL. I did go to my mom that afternoon....
Thinking back on it, I remember the shocked look on her face. To be honest, I don't think that she was ready for me at the age of 5 to come up to her and ask about adoption. She lovingly sat me down and explained adoption. But my big brother's answer of a nurse was WAY off. And I guess I was a little relieved. My mom told me that my birthmom loved me very much and that she was very young. She answered all my questions that afternoon is her sweet way. I admire my mom for that. She could have taken the easy route out and told me that my brother was making it all up, but she didn't. She confronted the issue with me and we talked about it.
My parents were always honest with me. I think that my mom trying to explain the situation to a 5 year old was difficult enough, but being in the mid 60's and explaining it the way she did took alot of love and understanding.
The church we belonged to had a school associated with it. That's the school I attended for 9 years (Kindergarten through 8th grade). It was there I realized what an impact adoption had. Not in a bad way, but for being a small school (only 13 in my 8th grade class), 3 were adopted in that class alone. I never felt lonely about adoption. There was always someone there who understood. Actually, it was pretty cool growing up that way. Nothing was hidden away and feelings were always validated.
Through my teenage years it still remained the same. Although I always wondered about my birthfamily and had questions that I would have liked answered, I was content and happy. Isn't that the way children should grow up?
When I was little, my big brother (9 years my senior and natural child of my parents) would take me outside to play. We'd wrestle, play tag or hide and go seek. He was always there for me. Funny, he still is.... But there's one day that will stick in my mind until the day I die.
It did start out an ordinary day. I was about 5 or so playing with "R" in the front yard. We were wrestling around when he suddenly stopped and said "you know you're special". Being about 5 I didn't understand and thought he was teasing me like he always did. But then he went on to say "because you're adopted". Needless to say, I had no clue what he was talking about much less really knowing what adopted meant. I asked him what it was and he said "a nurse saw that your parents were fighting and came in the room and snatched you away. That's how you got here".
Well, considering that my big brother always teased me, I didn't know really what to think. Of course being the little sister I told him that I was going to rat him out to Mom - LOL. I did go to my mom that afternoon....
Thinking back on it, I remember the shocked look on her face. To be honest, I don't think that she was ready for me at the age of 5 to come up to her and ask about adoption. She lovingly sat me down and explained adoption. But my big brother's answer of a nurse was WAY off. And I guess I was a little relieved. My mom told me that my birthmom loved me very much and that she was very young. She answered all my questions that afternoon is her sweet way. I admire my mom for that. She could have taken the easy route out and told me that my brother was making it all up, but she didn't. She confronted the issue with me and we talked about it.
My parents were always honest with me. I think that my mom trying to explain the situation to a 5 year old was difficult enough, but being in the mid 60's and explaining it the way she did took alot of love and understanding.
The church we belonged to had a school associated with it. That's the school I attended for 9 years (Kindergarten through 8th grade). It was there I realized what an impact adoption had. Not in a bad way, but for being a small school (only 13 in my 8th grade class), 3 were adopted in that class alone. I never felt lonely about adoption. There was always someone there who understood. Actually, it was pretty cool growing up that way. Nothing was hidden away and feelings were always validated.
Through my teenage years it still remained the same. Although I always wondered about my birthfamily and had questions that I would have liked answered, I was content and happy. Isn't that the way children should grow up?
Where does one start!!
I've thought about starting a blog for quite some time. A place where my story can be told and yet it's my choice whether people are able to view or even comment on it.
There's so much to say and so much running through my brain at this point. It's hard to know where to start. But I guess the beginning would be the best.
The internet is a wonderful tool for work, play and even education. I look back and think about how things were done before the internet was even conceived as an idea. Now with the push of a few buttons you can learn a new language, educate yourself on politics, get the morning news all over the world and even meet friends and foes on line.
Now you may ask, meet foes?
Sure.... I've met plenty on line in the last 2 years. Although I wouldn't call them foes exactly. If you google at any computer you'll come up with hundreds and maybe thousands of sites that have to do with one subject. And that's what I did. I googled "adoption". I was amazed at the sites that I found. Some were interesting, some were educational and some (I hate to say) were hateful. I was amazed by the bitterness of some when it came to adoption.
I read and read through many sites trying to makes heads or tails out of some. I was amazed at some of the stories. Stories that were from the heart. There were stories where I saw myself as an adoptee. There were stories where I saw myself as an adoptive mom. Then there were stories where birthmothers poured their heart out on the screen. It was the Good, the Bad and the Ugly. There were happy stories where some were content with their decisions. Some where they were sad and miserable. Then there were some stories that were beyond belief and these birthmothers saying how they were going to "kidnap" their children back and that all adoptive parents were evil kidnappers and such. I couldn't believe it.
I understood their anger and even empathized with them. They said that they had a brandished letter on their chests for the rest of their lives. That society took their children without their permission. That the system and all adoptive parents thought nothing more of them but old crack whores and drug addicts. I kept getting this vision of people standing over them with a gun held to their head while they held their children and smoked crack. Sorry, but that just DID NOT happen. But that's how they perceived themselves. But yet again blamed that on society.
It was weird but if you were not a miserable adoptee, birthmother or an adoptive mother willing to turn over her child back to the birthfamily then you were branded a troll and evil person not worthy of their attention. It was like world war III on the computer.
What I couldn't understand was that they brandished me because I was an adoptive mother, but they never took into consideration my other title of adoptee. I knew how some of the adoptees felt there, but because I am content and happy with my life and have a wonderful loving relationship with my adoptive and birth families, I'm not normal. I don't fit into the book "Primal Wound". That book annoys me at most.
These groups used and continue to use outdated material. Unfortunately, it is true that in their day society did have a different view of adoption. One that was coersive and kept hush hush. There's no doubt about that. And I believe firmly in reform of the system and open records for our children. However, the open records issue has it's pitfalls. It really concerns me that after reading at these sites and how some of these birthmothers want to turn back the clock with their relinquished children, that the open records should be issued to the adoptees only. The birthmothers were there when they were born. They know the date and all the information on it so why do they need a copy anyway.
Yep, some of these groups are wild, unbelievable, sad and downright comical in writing. So, I come down to the question of this post - Is Adoption a friend or foe?
To some it might be a friend. And others it will always be a foe. I guess it really depends on what end of the spectrum you're standing. To me - like my birthday, I was born on the cusp so I guess I'll always be on both sides.
There's so much to say and so much running through my brain at this point. It's hard to know where to start. But I guess the beginning would be the best.
The internet is a wonderful tool for work, play and even education. I look back and think about how things were done before the internet was even conceived as an idea. Now with the push of a few buttons you can learn a new language, educate yourself on politics, get the morning news all over the world and even meet friends and foes on line.
Now you may ask, meet foes?
Sure.... I've met plenty on line in the last 2 years. Although I wouldn't call them foes exactly. If you google at any computer you'll come up with hundreds and maybe thousands of sites that have to do with one subject. And that's what I did. I googled "adoption". I was amazed at the sites that I found. Some were interesting, some were educational and some (I hate to say) were hateful. I was amazed by the bitterness of some when it came to adoption.
I read and read through many sites trying to makes heads or tails out of some. I was amazed at some of the stories. Stories that were from the heart. There were stories where I saw myself as an adoptee. There were stories where I saw myself as an adoptive mom. Then there were stories where birthmothers poured their heart out on the screen. It was the Good, the Bad and the Ugly. There were happy stories where some were content with their decisions. Some where they were sad and miserable. Then there were some stories that were beyond belief and these birthmothers saying how they were going to "kidnap" their children back and that all adoptive parents were evil kidnappers and such. I couldn't believe it.
I understood their anger and even empathized with them. They said that they had a brandished letter on their chests for the rest of their lives. That society took their children without their permission. That the system and all adoptive parents thought nothing more of them but old crack whores and drug addicts. I kept getting this vision of people standing over them with a gun held to their head while they held their children and smoked crack. Sorry, but that just DID NOT happen. But that's how they perceived themselves. But yet again blamed that on society.
It was weird but if you were not a miserable adoptee, birthmother or an adoptive mother willing to turn over her child back to the birthfamily then you were branded a troll and evil person not worthy of their attention. It was like world war III on the computer.
What I couldn't understand was that they brandished me because I was an adoptive mother, but they never took into consideration my other title of adoptee. I knew how some of the adoptees felt there, but because I am content and happy with my life and have a wonderful loving relationship with my adoptive and birth families, I'm not normal. I don't fit into the book "Primal Wound". That book annoys me at most.
These groups used and continue to use outdated material. Unfortunately, it is true that in their day society did have a different view of adoption. One that was coersive and kept hush hush. There's no doubt about that. And I believe firmly in reform of the system and open records for our children. However, the open records issue has it's pitfalls. It really concerns me that after reading at these sites and how some of these birthmothers want to turn back the clock with their relinquished children, that the open records should be issued to the adoptees only. The birthmothers were there when they were born. They know the date and all the information on it so why do they need a copy anyway.
Yep, some of these groups are wild, unbelievable, sad and downright comical in writing. So, I come down to the question of this post - Is Adoption a friend or foe?
To some it might be a friend. And others it will always be a foe. I guess it really depends on what end of the spectrum you're standing. To me - like my birthday, I was born on the cusp so I guess I'll always be on both sides.
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