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Today at church I got this "revelation" about adoptees.
We're not really able to publicly grieve or even acknowledge the pain hidden deep inside over the loss of our mother's or our original selves.
No, we HAVE a family ~ we're "special" & "chosen".
WHY WOULD WE NEED TO GRIEVE ANYTHING?
So I got up from my seat after church (wiping away tears) and high-tailed it quickly into the restroom to "freshen" up.
I hurried past the rest of church society intermingling, conversing, sharing, connecting ~ and made a bee-line for the bathroom, as usual.
Didn't want them to see me completely undone emotionally.
Why?
Because then I'd have to be REAL.
And what I realized is that most of society DOESN'T WANT the REAL ME.
They want the "Happy to be Adopted" me.
The one who, sure, may have a HINT of CURIOSITY, but nothing that really affects me deeply ~ because I am fulfilling the role that was written out on my amended birth certificate, my adoption decree.
WHO I AM SUPPOSED TO BE.
Society buys into this and shrinks back from any adoptee who breaks free and dares to become REAL ~ not just the person they were legally created to be ~ but who God created them to be.
And embrace. Heal. Live.
But many times it has to be done alone. And in secret, like sealed records in the courthouse.
Adoption is like that somehow.
It creates LIES to COVER truth...true parentage, true identities, true stories, true realities.
Replaced by man-made truths...new parentage, new identities, new "realities".
New certificates. New names. New homes. New lives.
But nothing man-made lasts.
It eventually crumbles and TRUTH prevails. Even through great pain.
I'm so glad that Someone wants to know the real me.
Even if I am in a bathroom stall crying, seemingly alone.
5 comments:
Do any adoptees you’ve met ever remembering the day they were relinquished? I was 3 days old when I went to my adopted parents. My biological mother says she never held me. She seems to have issues dealing with me. I swear I remember the day she signed papers and her asking someone on the other side of a desk if “she’ll be okay” while she was holding me after I focused on her. I also remember my birth grandmother picking my birth mother’s arm up and plopping it down on the desk with a pen. The thud of my mother’s arm was startling. I remember a hospital bed, two women and a small child visiting me one morning. I am having these reoccurring dreams at night. Are these repressed memories important? I wonder did these people/family behave this way to create a wild moment or was it just that? Can you relate?
Peach I'm sorry you feel this pain. As an AP I'm trying to give my daughters the freedom and confidence to express themselves and part of that is from listening to adult adoptess. My daughters are adopted from China so their loses are multiple, first of their birth family, then removal from their home in an institution, (because it was all they knew regardless of the care) language and culture. I let them be my guides, so if they long for their first families, I listen. If they are angry, I listen. If they want to write letters or say a prayer at bedtime, I help. It is their story and I can't change it, or know it deeply, but I can empathize and help them cope with it.
By the way, AP's have a relationship with birth families, even in absentia - I do wonder about the family that gave them up and why. They are aften, as Jean McLoud put it, the ghosts in the room. Who had the motor mouth, the belly laugh, the lightening fast brain, the pouty lips, the delicate fingers. It can't live their loss, but I can feel a taste of it.
So your pain is my gain - and my daughters, because I am learning and they are the recipients of the lessons of your teaching.
Jennifer W (still having an issue with my google ID)
That's why I allow myself to be vulnerable and write it down.
That is fine that you feel this way... you shouldn't feel ashamed cause you feel the way you do... I am glad that you wrote this... each of us is different and has different feelings... me, I was in the hospital 1 month before my mum and dad adopted me... I do recall growing up being very 'curious' about my bio mum... at 21 I met her... there were no big feelings there but did get alot of my questions answered and stayed 'friends' with the family but as I grew up I noticed the fakeness of the family and found out plenty of lies that were told about my bio father... I am sure my bio mum had her reasons for not telling the truth... but she did tell me that I had a first cousin/half sister... turns out our fathers were not related and didn't even know each other... I got sick of the lies of the whole family and so severed any ties I had with them. I am glad I was adopted out... not bitter... (not saying that you are) and my family is the one I have now... what I am saying is that everyone is different with their own feelings... so again, don't be ashamed of feeling them.
Take care.
I do have a memory of my bio-mom saying goodbye to me in the hospital. She seemed very young and sorrowful. I was a fragile, low birth weight baby and incubated At the time. . I also have a memory of my adoptive mom talking to me. I remember her greeting me in a high-pitched voice. She was talking baby talk to me. I turned my body away from the sound of her voice. I knew she was a stranger who just wanted a baby (object) but not me (person).
I have suffered from suicidal feelings. At those times I would get this crazy feeling that my biological family hadn't wanted me to survive. They had so much shame and my death would have greatly reduced the possibility of others finding out about my birthmother's illegitimate baby. At 31 I had a birthmother reunion. The first thing she said to me was that she was surprised to be hearing from me. She said she thought I was dead--That I had died a long time ago.
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