Perspective

 



 (Originally written September 1, 2009)

I work for an amazing network of parents raising kids with extra needs.

 

We support new Mom's and families who are experiencing a high-risk pregnancy, have a baby in the intensive-care unit, or whose child has just received a diagnosis of some type of health issue, disability or delay.

 It is the perfect way to "give back" a tiny bit of the support others gave me when my son was born very early.

It seems amazing, though, how everything is interlinked and interwoven in my journey.

I recently visited a young Mom on bed rest in the same hospital that my son was born and hospitalized four years ago.
It was surreal to walk those long halls and enter the familiar room where my son and I literally fought for our lives.

I remember hearing women giving birth at all hours, while I lay hooked up to monitors and magnesium sulfate praying to live; listening to them push and cry out in joy when they held their babies.

So when I entered the room today and saw her laying there, my heart broke.
Showing her the birth picture of my one pound son and watching her face react in surprise and HOPE that he made it (and so can her baby);
it was empowering and healing.

The strange part of this experience was the exchange I had at the "check-in" desk for visitors, before I could go back to visit her.

Waiting in line, I over-heard an adoption agency "mentor" asking questions regarding the "protocol" for when she brings her "mentee" in for a scheduled c-section.  She was concerned about where the "adoptive parents" would "wait" to see the baby.

As the older lady asked these questions, I noticed the pregnant Mom playing quietly with her other young child, who was with them. The little girl was so sweet and cute, and as she walked by we made eye contact.
I looked into her innocent eyes and wondered how she will someday deal with the reality that her Mother "placed" her sibling for adoption. 
 When will this young mother REALIZE the huge life-altering decision she is making? And why aren't there more resources available for mother's like this to receive support, without encouraging her to surrender her baby?

I happened to KNOW this "mentor." 
 When she turned around, I re-introduced myself and we talked.
She is the wife of a former state senator, whose district I happened to live in a few years ago, and we also attend the same church.
I went to one of their open houses and enjoyed talking to her about adoption and the IMPORTANCE of adoptee access issues.
She shared with me her passion for "orphans" and how she someday would like to be involved in helping more than she was able to while her husband was busy with politics.

I guess her "someday" has come.
We are both at a place in our lives with roles of "helping" but with completely different perspectives.

 

As an adult adopted person, my idea of "helping" a young mother does not involve "encouraging" her to be a hero by "gifting" her own flesh and blood, simply because others are married, or have more money, or badly want a child.

The gravity of separation between a mother and her child ~ whether to miscarriage, prematurity, or adoption ~ is profound.

Adoption should never be "encouraged" to provide a child for another,
even if they have waited and hoped for a long time.

Support (in my mind) would involve equipping young mothers with the knowledge and tools to embrace the miracle of Motherhood.

I WISH there were more resources available to pregnant mothers, that did not involve the "option" of surrendering their babies.
When this "option" is included in pregnancy "counseling" it seems to be ripe with conflict of interest and serves only to plants seeds of doubt and low self-esteem in an already vulnerable mother and baby. 

Stranger still is this all occurred not only in the hospital my son was born, but also the same hospital I was born and lost my Mother in, in 1968.
My records (that I have had to fight for) mention "prolonged crying" in the new-born nursery the day I was discharged to the attorney.

Maybe I already knew.

The day I gave up hope of being "me" with the Mother and family God originally ordained me to be. The day that would start the journey of life-long search & necessary healing.

As I experienced this day, I found myself empathizing with the feelings of so many ~ the way my first Mother must have felt (like the pregnant mother awaiting the birth of the child she would turn right around and relinquish to others); the loss her small daughter will feel someday as she realizes the minutes, days, and years she lived without her sibling; and the fear I saw in the eyes of the other expectant Mother, 26 weeks pregnant and praying for one more day, one more month of carrying her precious infant close.
Having to surrender her child to metal beds, loud noises, sharp sticks, and bright lights in the NICU ~ so many emotions.

 

All interwoven and all involving the most primal, important, and profound relationship of all ~ Mother & baby.

My son (born 3 months early) STILL doesn't have a strong sense of self.
His use of pronouns ("I", "me", "you") are all mixed up, especially when it comes to conversations involving me (his Mom) and him.
We are ONE (still) in his little mind, because his development is so delayed from being born premature and being separated from me so early.
Not to mention his anxiety, attachment, and trust issues.
It breaks my heart and reinforces the profound importance of the early mother/baby bond that is lost with premature birth AND adoption.

No matter how many "professionals" (making their living from this 'business') want to gloss it over or completely deny it ~ it affects every aspect of an adoptee's development and life-long perspective. EVERY ASPECT.

If organization skills are really a picture of our inner-life, no wonder it has been so hard to live by the rule I grew up with ~ "everything in it's place". 
 Some things may never find "it's place." 

 This adopted woman's life was forever blessed,
the day I became a Mother. 

 Yet I profoundly felt my son's pain of being separated from me. 

 My hormones screamed for him while the primal inner child in me wept; 
 knowing his cries were for his Mother, and yet not able to hold him in the place we both longed for. 

 My womb. My arms. 

 I shudder with memories of walking away from that incubator each evening feeling intensely broken.

It's taken me 2 hours to write this. 
 I've been blessed to hear a little voice yelling "Mommy" every few minutes ~ my son wakes from napping and realizes I'm not beside him.

Thank you, God, for that voice. Thank you...

Oh, The Places You'll Go

My first introduction to "adoption poetry" was a framed version of an old classic,
"Chosen Child".

It hung on my Mother's bedroom wall right next to an ever-growing collage of my school pictures as I grew up. I never understood why I hated that wall. It felt as if when I entered that room I needed to avoid eye-contact with that wall, those pictures, and that poem. But I couldn't understand why.

I thought I hated myself and my pictures, but now I realize it was the poem.

The poem had alot of contradictory statements which is confusing to an adopted child.

The first stance says "I had to tell you, Dearest Heart, that you are not my own" ~ it goes on to explain how much she wanted and desired a baby and how we were brought together through adoption ~ then the last stance of the poem states that I am "her's, and her's alone".

 

Now how can that be?

How can I not be her own, and also hers alone? It didn't make sense.

Yet that is just one example of many "double-messages" adoptees grapple with in a life-time.

Think about it ~ according to the adoption industry, in order to increase the number of available children for adoption (the commodity) we (adoptees) get mixed-messages. 
We are "unwanted", "crisis'", "abandoned", "orphans"; yet "chosen", "special", "lucky", "gifts".

Our mother's are told they are "incapable", yet "heroic".

Our very identities are "amended" in order to fulfill a role, and we're expected to cut ourselves off completely (the message of "sealed records") from our very identity, heritage, and family-line.  

Adoption is a legal contract that tries to do the impossible ~ "as if born to" can never replace the reality of profound loss for an adoptee, yet we are asked to live a life-time of splitting ourselves off from our very core.

 We become masters at people-pleasing and compliance because we receive the message that adoption has made us "worthy".
 It cleansed us of being a "bastard" or "orphan" (even if only on paper).

Our original identities are "sealed", and therefore, somehow defines us in shame.

So we work extremely hard to earn our place in a world where everything about us had to be "amended" in order to be accepted.

 

 What a heavy burden for any child, any human.

As a young child I was the master home-made card maker. I would make elaborate cards for my Mom proclaiming she was the BEST Mother in the world.

I think it was my way of trying desperately to ease the insecurity in both of us.

With the words of "The Chosen Child" poem always looming, I can now understand that insecurity.

Years after my reunion with my first family, I went to an art class which turned out to be a life-defining experience. We were asked to read the Dr. Seuss book, "Oh, the Places You'll Go" and then compose a poem, and create a companion pastel drawing.

I had never taken art before and felt like because I had no talent that my pastel would be embarrassing at the least, but decided to try...

A few hours later, feeling like time was literally standing still, I brought myself back into the real world a different person.

 

A person who had finally given myself permission to grieve and shed tears over my adoption.

 

I had always heard that art was good for the soul; that it somehow unlocked the right (more feeling) side of the brain, and by the time I pulled myself away from this project I was a true believer.

I vowed to take more art classes, set up a studio, and dive into this new found passion.

Several years later here I sit without going one step further into that dream...

I'm just thankful for the amazing experience of that class, that teacher, and the healing that flowed through it.

"Oh, The Places You'll Go"
by Baby Girl Lowe living life as Samantha Franklin

You'll wake up one day and find yourself floating
on rivers of Golden Tears....
In deep scars of black and purple, too
Flowing from your hidden view
Amidst eyes of blue.

Encircling your heart is crimson red...
Blood of the fathers you never knew.
Enshrined....
Finally you'll find the real 'you'

Deeply hidden in the sea of blue
Your only chance now is to ride the hues
Grief unlocks the colors of life....
You'll find your "purple" deep inside...
after the ride.

So close your eyes, and feel the depth
You'll find you're not alone...
Surrounded by the throng, the unseen tears...
Hold on.

We must visit the eyes of our forefathers...
The pain of our unknown
Connect with the blood with whom we found life
Love through the tears of our own.

 

tears
fall softly

as snowflakes
whispering your name
drift gently home

 

   ears bend low

listening
for the melody of your song

 

  heart melts 
 giving drink 

eyes
longing 
for your glance
   

 

 

 little bird beckons
outside my window

will I cross this icy sea alone

 

 

written 2/28/15

Samantha Franklin

  ~ watching the falling snow ~

on the 35th anniversary of my mother's death

...if any?

 

 

Every January I do a search of bills introduced in the Oklahoma legislature dealing with adoption. 

This year, along with a few others, OK SB 110 came up under a search regarding "birth certificates".

   

Several states have passed legislation recommended by the Child Welfare League of America, restoring the basic human right of every adopted person unhindered access to their own unaltered original birth certificate. 

Kansas has never sealed original birth certificates from adoptees. 

Oklahoma, however, has failed to ensure this right to its adopted citizens. 

In fact, some of the language of OK SB 110 is quite concerning.   

"The State Registrar shall seal and file the original certificate of birth, if any, with the certificate of decree of adoption...the State Registrar, upon receipt of a certificate of a decree of adoption, shall prepare a supplementary birth certificate in the new name of the adopted person with the names of the adoptive parents listed as the parents...

"IF ANY..."  

Two little words can bring big consequences. 

Not only is it ridiculous that adopted people are issued a new "amended" (falsified) record of birth which lists parents who never gave birth to them, but also their original birth certificate (if any) is "sealed" from them indefinitely. 

 

It is unlawful to falsify official documents in America except for the birth record of adoptees. 

 

In fact, laws do not ensure that we even have an accurate and unfalsified original birth certificate at all.  At times adoptive parent's names are put on an original birth certificate, before an adoption is even finalized. 

This is a travesty.  

 

It strips us and our children of important on-going family medical histories, genealogy, and identity.  

 

The only ones "sealed records" laws protect are those who lobby government officials and make their living from the supply and demand based billion-dollar per year adoption industry in America. 

 

Adoptees are made to feel like commodities when money exchanges hands in the "sealing" of our identities, and unethical and coercive practices can be hidden behind "sealed records" laws.

 

 

 

   Adoption touches almost every family in America in some form or another.  Genealogists have predicted that within another few generations NO American will be guaranteed an accurate family tree or genealogy because of "sealed record" laws in adoption.  

 

They were enacted during the "Baby Scoop" era of the 40's, 50's and 60's to protect newly formed adoptive families, when vulnerable unwed mothers were given no other choice but to surrender their babies for adoption. 

The Supreme Courts of both TN and OR have determined that restoring the right of adoptee's access to their original record of birth is constitutional because first mothers were never guaranteed (nor asked for) perpetual "confidentiality" under the law.  

 

In fact, if a first mother surrenders her child for adoption, but for some reason the child is never adopted, but remains in foster care, the original birth certificate is never sealed. 

These archaic laws weren't enacted to protect the "privacy" rights of first mothers. 

 

They only serve to protect the adoption industry and the newly formed adoptive family, while they fail to protect the rights of the very children they claim to serve. 

 

Statistics have also shown that abortion rates in states which have passed adoptee access legislation have declined more than the national average, while adoption rates remain consistent.        

Interestingly enough, this proposed bill also states,

"To protect the integrity of vital statistics records, to insure their proper use, and to insure the efficient and proper administration of the vital statistics system, it shall be unlawful for any person to permit inspection of, or to disclose information contained in, vital statistics records, or to copy or issue a copy of all or part of any such record except to the person who is the subject of the record or in such person's interest unless ordered to do so by a court of competent jurisdiction..." 

 

Adoptees are "the person who is the subject of the record", yet sealed records law in adoption prevents us from accessing our own records.

 

We are the only U.S. citizens denied access to our own original record of birth. 

 

OK SB 110 goes on to propose... 

"Each month, the State Department of Health shall transmit to the Department of Human Services a record of all registered births that have occurred within the state for the immediately preceding month. The Department of Human Services shall use such records for the purpose of assisting in the administration of programs related to children, including but not limited to child welfare, adoptions..."

 

This bill would require the OK Bureau of Vital Statistics to automatically forward every child's birth certificate born in Oklahoma to the OK Department of Human Services...whether that child and family is a client of DHS or not. 

 

To me, this seems like an over-reach of power. 

 

Even more so, it further disenfranchises every Oklahoma born adopted person, who is still denied access to their own records.   

Santa's Antithesis?

© Photographer: Aguirre_mar | Agency: Dreamstime.com

(Originally published in 2010...we ate at the same restaurant today and I was reminded of this day...)

Something happened today that I still can't believe...the timing, especially.

I had been wanting to pay the attorney that was involved in my adoption way back in 1968 a visit for a long time, but it was one of those things I just kept putting off. I knew he was still "in business" and wanted to talk to him personally while I still had the chance...to see if he might remember something...anything...about my original mother. She died at the age of 32 while looking for me but was somehow under the impression she had given birth to a son.

The only other contact I had with this attorney was several years ago when I was trying to get my adoption records opened at the court house. I had already obtained a court order for my obc and reunited with my entire original family years before. But I wanted the adoption records themselves...

The Judge had approved my request, but every time I called to see if the records were available yet, the clerk stated that they could not find my file. Finally, after several calls I started to panic. They kept saying it could not be found...

So...I called this attorney to see if there might have been a chance that the adoption was finalized in a different county. As soon as I told him that I was reunited with my family and explained the situation about the file not being located at the court house, he became defensive. He asked how I ever got the information to find my original mother and then said, "If I had done my job right, you would have never been able to find out anything." Needless to say, he wasn't much help.

I made one last attempt at the court house and finally they found my file "in the basement." It was so surreal reading my own file...my parent's home study (barely 2 typed pages), and my mother's signature on the consent.

I had to give all that background information to get back to my story...So today my husband and I had met for lunch at one of our favorite Thai restaurants. The tables in this place are really close together and it was packed. I noticed a nice-looking older gentleman at the table next to us, but didn't pay any attention to him. He even offered to share his table with another man who needed a place to eat (it is a great buffet), and I guess my husband overheard them introducing themselves to each other.

He didn't mention this to me until we were up at the cash register paying for our meal...casually, he mentioned, "Does the name O.G. mean anything to you?" What?

Why yes...immediately I told my husband I had to go back and find out if he was THE O.G. who had done my adoption...

Sure enough, he was. He invited me to sit down and we had a wonderful conversation...I'm sure it was a huge surprise when I pulled out of my purse a picture of my first Mom...He slowly took his glasses off and examined the picture, but said he couldn't remember that far back. He said he did 35 adoptions a year back then...and "did everything possible to keep things secret."

He said he wrote the same non-identifying information on every file...all his "birthmoms" were 5'3, weighed 120 pounds and were Baptist. It hit me that is what was in my file, and I always wondered why my first Mom's pictures made her look taller than that. Now I knew.  I was so flabbergasted that I forgot to ask him why my First Mother thought she had given birth to a boy.  She was awaiting the return of her son, up till the day she passed away.  That makes me so sad.

I have heard other reunion stories where the first mother had been told she had given birth to the opposite gender as well.  Some have been livid that their names were changed on the birth certificate, and dates of birth as well.  All to prevent the first mother from "interfering" or "coming back". 

He admitted that back then he "didn't even think about" the consequences of his actions. He said he gets calls all the time from adoptees and first mothers, but cannot help them at all. That's when I gave him my card...he seemed genuinely pleased and said he would definitely give them my name. It felt so good to "come full circle" yet again and have this chance encounter. Especially right now...the week of a great conference being held in our state..."Life...Adopted!"  

(This is now 2014 and I have yet to receive one call from anyone he referred to me for search help.)

As he drove away in his shiny, white Lexus, I tried hard not to be judgemental.

How could a man, so polite and warm (he reminded me of a small-statured, sweet-mannered Santa Claus) have done what he did so many years ago...I have to believe it was ignorance. Society dictated so much (see "The Girls Who Went Away")...and yet was so wrong.

He is still a practicing attorney and has been for 52 years he said. I'm sure for many adoptive parents O.G. WAS Santa Claus...at some point, however, we all must grow up. Santa Claus and sealed records create quite an illusion, one more innocent than the other.

One has to wonder WHY the adoption industry fights so hard against restoring the civil right of adult adoptees to obtain their birth records...especially when we find story after story of past and current unethical practices being perpetuated against first mothers, adoptees, and even adoptive parents in adoption. (See "The Girls Who Went Away" by Ann Fessler, or "The Baby Thief" by Barbara Raymond.

I can only pray that as adoptees and original mothers continue to tell our stories that laws will be changed so the actions of ignorance cannot continue to affect those "touched" by adoption. We can't rely on piece-meal legislation and adoption codes that fail to protect the identity rights of adoptees (both the generations of the past, as well as today).

We need laws to ensure ethical practices are being followed...not just hope against hope that adoptees will even have a factual birth certificate on file. Ensure that right for every adoptee and individual born through assisted reproduction...genetic truth, heritage, and history.

Amazing day indeed.

Full Circle Thanksgiving

© Photographer: Andyb1126 | Agency: Dreamstime.com

(originally written on Thanksgiving 2009)


Te Deum
by Charles Reznikoff

Not because of victories
I sing,
having none,
but for the common sunshine,
the breeze,
the largess of the spring.

Not for victory
but for the day's work done
as well as I was able;
not for a seat upon the dais
but at the common table.

Reunion has brought so many conflicting emotions over the years, especially surrounding the holidays. Truly like trying to untangle a ball of yarn without knowing beginning or end.

For many years after reunion I would reluctantly turn down invitations each holiday, feeling strong obligation to my adoptive family. Feeling extreme guilt for even trying to see my family of birth "around" the holiday ~ so torn. Wondering and longing through feelings of self-doubt and paralyzing covetousness of those in my first families who never lost their place. Not knowing who I was or where I belonged.

This flowed over even into celebrations around my son. Birthday parties, which are supposed to be joyous times of fellowship and fun became so stressful that I would avoid planning them. So sad. Who would I invite? I wanted everyone there but couldn't stand the thought of trying to merge these segregated and conflicting families in the same place. Holidays brought up buried pain of separation, ownership, and confusion.

Finally walking through the pain of grief unlocked my ability to feel and embrace the love that my family(ies) were trying to show. The love I so wanted to be able to feel and embrace and return.

I want to thank God for bringing me through those crashing emotions of reunion. To a more quiet acceptance and embrace of who I am and who my family is. Amazing.

Home
by Bruce Weigl

I didn't know I was grateful
for such late-autumn bent-up cornfields
yellow in the after-harvest sun before the
cold plow turns it all overinto never.
I didn't know I would enter this music
that translates the world back into dirt fields
that have always called to me as if I were a thing
come from the dirt, like a tuber,
or like a needful boy.
End lonely days, I believe.
End the exiled and unraveling strangeness.

Yesterday was really nice. My Mom was in my home again for the first time since April, when she fell and was hospitalized and then moved to a senior center. My son was so excited he climbed all over her, even in her wheelchair. Her personality is amazingly positive and such an inspiration to me, for her to be able to weather so many months of health issues and change. My first father dropped by right when we were putting Thanksgiving lunch on the table, and I so enjoyed seeing him and sharing this special day and lunch ~ just being together means so much.

He had not seen my Mom for many years (the families spent more time "together" during the infant stage of reunion ~ I feel like the beginning of "my" reunion was more for them than for me ~ so shy & emotionally numb).

I didn't beat myself up emotionally this time for letting my Mom see the heart-felt emotion of hugs and kisses between my first father and us. Maybe he is opening up more because I am.

Then, last night I got to be an adult (not just "Mommy") for a few hours at Thanksgiving dinner hosted by my first mother's brother and sister (my aunt and uncle). We sipped white wine and feasted on turkey and dressing (yet again) all evening, enjoying each others company, getting caught up on our lives and telling stories of growing up in Tulsa (separated, yet within blocks of each other our whole lives). Uncle Ron lives on Reservoir Hill just north of downtown ~ with a spectacular view of the city lights, the moon and the stars, and a crackling outdoor fireplace.

I am so blessed to be reunited with my entire family of birth. The rich diversity and YEARS of getting to know them and the strong love that has grown. I have a beautiful heritage of faith in my family, by both adoption and birth. And also great diversity. Jewish on my father's side, and my first mother's side includes a beloved uncle by marriage who grew up in the Middle East. And yet another from Guatemala!

My young cousins, Sean & Hanna, who I was privileged to watch grow up and grew close to these past twenty years have a beautiful dual-heritage, which they are learning to embrace and be proud of. We talked about the importance of family and how we can learn so much from the strong family traditions and customs of other cultures ~ how they stay close throughout their lifetimes and help each other through hard times. How they value the little things in life, without the distraction of the "rat race" we all seem to battle in America.

I am finally more complete in my identity and families now, and am so thankful. Still growing so much and overcoming. But thankful.

Eternity
by William Blake

He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy
He who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity's sunrise

Thank you, Mom

     Last Thanksgiving morning I held my Mom's hand as she journeyed to Heaven. 

It still doesn't seem real. 

(Originally published on 6/7/09)

     Mom has always been there for me.   

I marvel at her strength, inspiration, and tenacity, even through many medical problems in her older age.

She worked long, faithful hours for over 20 years at the same company.  She put me through college as a single parent. 


She has been my biggest encourager, and helped me believe in myself...because she believed in me. 
 

 A couple of years ago in December, she fell and hit her head on a step, and was in ICU for a week.  Laying in the hospital bed, barely able to speak, she motioned for me to bend down close...and asked me to go to the store for her and buy my son a Lego wagon she had seen advertised. 
She wanted him to have it for Christmas.  He still loves that wagon he got from his Grandma. 

When Mom went through a stem-cell transplant in 1998, she always kept a smile, even through weeks in the hospital.  I look back and cherish that time I spent with her. 

At the exact moment the stem-cells (blood transfusion) began, a song came on the radio in her room entitled, "There Is Power In The Blood". 

We all took notice and thanked God ~ she was healed from that day forward. 

My Mom is an eternal optimist and loved by many.

She gets her energy from helping others. 
It has been frustrating for me to see her neglect herself and her rest, health, and emotional healing, to be an eternal "caretaker" of others. 
She is depressed right now because she can't go to the senior center and help the "old people". 

 

She has been in the hospital for several weeks and although we finally found a doctor who is running the necessary tests that should have been done immediately, my Mom is tired.

And I am grieving to see her like this.

I regret so much. 
The times (even just a few months ago) when she would knock on my front door unexpectedly, and I would have a twinge of feeling "put out" at an inconvenient time. 
Now I cry for her to be able to do that again.

We have had to forgive each other a lot because we are very different in personality.
My Mom's out-going personality smothered me as a shy, quiet, insecure little girl.
She talked about me incessantly, causing me to retreat farther into my shell.

 

Unfortunately, neither of us got the "memo" about the needs of adopted children.

 We struggled. But we never, ever stopped loving.
 

Thank you, Mom, for letting me find myself.   

Mom is having yet more tests run tomorrow. Please pray for her strength to get through this, for the doctors to find out what is wrong and be able to help her regain her strength. She is a cancer-survivor, and they have ruled out all re-occurance. They found severe ulcers (completely missed by doctors just a month ago), which are finally being treated.
She is very discouraged and tired after a long ordeal.
My grandmother did this in her "older" age and then regained her health and lived to be 92 years old.

 

    Lord, please bless my Mom. Fill her with peace and healing and strength.
Give her your comfort right now and protect her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

This was originally written in 2009. 

My Mom did recover and went on to marry at 80 years of age. 
She had two beautiful years with her husband.  They both passed away 9 months apart last year.
Our last conversation, when we both knew her time was short, taught me much.

We realized...
 None of our human foibles or misunderstandings mattered any more. 
Only the love we had always kept in our hearts. 
The important thing was that we were there. 
We never gave up on each other.

I reminded her, "He will surely make everything right".

The bitter tears after an unfair divorce and the loneliness and fatigue she endured as a single parent.  The painful disease that tried to take her life.  Even the hurts her heart still carried from childhood.  None of it mattered anymore;  she wanted to see her Savior face to face. 
The One who loved her and would never forsake.
The faithful One who had been her Father, Husband, Provider and Protector. And mine as well.
       
When the nurses came in to ask if she knew she was in the hospital, she would say,

"I'm with Sam"  

And my tears would flow. 
I realized we had given each other a beautiful gift. 
His presence had healed our hearts to the point that we could be truly present with each other. 

We spent our last days together doing what we loved.
In the hospital gift shop, we would peruse the lovely trinkets and comment on their meaning or significance.  They would remind us of a story and we would reminisce.

Our eyes were drawn to a beautiful plaque that now graces my living room wall.  

"Be Still...and Know that I am God"

  

When she felt well enough, I would bundle her up in a soft blanket
and we would stroll outside among the bright yellow autumn leaves.  They were so delicate.  
I realized how fragile life was during those times. 
And what a beautiful gift our presence is for each other. 
I never wanted to regret another thing. 
But enjoy and embrace every moment with my family and friends, from that point forward.

What I didn't realize was how deeply the pain of grief would affect me. 
With every loss we encounter, it triggers deeper losses that seem unbearable.  
We close off our hearts and put up walls we think are protective,
when really, they are suffocating us.
We spend our time distracted and numb, because it hurts too much to feel.
We feel broken. 

A grieving heart is at risk of becoming bitter. 
 
Every day surrounded by families who all look alike and support one other...
enjoying a "normal" life without the mess of reunion, radiology, and obituaries. 
Or overwhelming memories of such.

    This year has been hard for me. 
A year of isolation and sadness.  
        
I've felt orphaned.

My Pastor recently spoke of the story of Jacob and Esau.
When Esau's birthright was stolen by his brother, Jacob, he was hurt and angry.
Yet through the years, instead of allowing the pain to close his heart towards God, he trusted.
And God Himself took care of him.
Later, when he and Jacob were reunited, they ran toward each other and embraced.
They felt as if they were seeing God's very face. 
 
They blessed each other.

Lord, please help me trust You to be my Father, and take care of me.
Help me forgive everyone that has hurt me, and bless them.
Give others the grace to forgive me, as well.
Turn our hearts to You and fill us with peace, love and joy again.

Help me live life with no regrets.
Thank you, Mom, for teaching me this. 
I miss you so much.
I love you. 

Ties that Bind

                              © Photographer: Limcheng-en | Agency: Dreamstime.com

                                                        (Originally published on 4/13/11)

Don't stealthily move back the boundary lines
or cheat orphans out of their property (identity),
For they have a powerful Advocate
who will go to bat for them.

(Proverbs 23:10-11, Message Bible)

Memories buried deep within my soul

Hidden from everyday existence;

To protect the mask I hold

Tightly gripped by shaking hands

That hurt and ache like frozen death.

Cover my face ~ the facade.

No life or love or personality;

the soul inside me tried to flee.

The terror of nothingness came

the day they "sealed" my name.

Lost: One "dead" baby at the courthouse;

Certificate of Live Birth "sealed" around it's neck

Tightly riveted to a desk of "this is best".

Found: One imitation life living "the lie"

Created the day they made her "sign".

Gone in a moment

Wake up to reveal

Amended reality

In courts to fulfill.

A shell of existence;

Underground hiding.

Scared to come out ~ revealing

The ties that bind.

The corpse baby comes to life

No tears it cries, it's dead inside;

Just rescued "bastard"

With no real name.

Legitimize me with

These ties that bind;

Undo the lies. 

Resurrection Power

Make me real ~ I plead.

Attachment, Trauma, And Conflict Of Interest

 

 

 

 

 It seems like every day my sweet son decides he wants

to "be" something different when he grows up. 

The other day he came home from school
proclaiming he wants to ride bulls...
what every mother wants to hear! 

 

As I sat through an all-day seminar entitled,
"Trauma: How it Affects Growth and Development in Children,"
hosted by the OK Adoption Coalition,
I felt as if I was getting a taste of my son's desired profession.





Being adopted is quite a ride in itself. 
Then we hear "professional" commentators give the "play by play,"
with no riding experience of their own. 
Adoptees are left to dismount and clean up
after the animal ourselves.




Does adoption, the way it is viewed today,
truly serve the child, 
or those in the business of "building" families?

"Attachment Theory" labels a child 
if they fail to "attach" to their care-giver 
(who get's to define this concept?),
because, as the speaker stated...

 

"It's not in their DNA...
babies will 'indiscriminately' attach up to six months old. 
That is why it is SO important to terminate parental rights
as quickly as possible and provide 'permanence' for these "kiddos". 

 

We are not ducks who will "imprint"
on the first person we see after hatching from the egg. 

We are humans who experience profound life-long loss
when separated from our mothers and families.   

 

If DNA and genetic mirroring were not essential parts of our human experience in relational development...
why is the internet full of searching adoptees and first families?

 

And what of this:
 

 

 

This is a visual of a theory which the adoption industry
works hard to dismiss. 
Nancy Verrier, a psychologist and adoptive mother, says...

"There exists a great need for legislative action and concern for the rights of adoptees.
Few dare give voice to that which they know in their hearts: that the connection between biological family and child is primal, mystical, mysterious, and everlasting.
Far more than merely biological and historical, this primal connection is also cellular, psychological, emotional, and spiritual."

I can't tell you how difficult it is to live in a society
which dismisses the very humanity of adoptees.

If we want to be truly trauma-informed,
we must acknowledge the adoptee's reality.

 Changing a child's name,
sealing their genetic identity and history from them,
and then asking them, as well,
to fulfill a "role" in their "new" family...with which 
they share no genetic connection;
with caretakers who need to be 
legally and emotionally known
as "Mother and Father", 
only serves to disenfranchise an adoptee's
 trauma and loss, 
and piles on added layers of complex loyalty issues.

The only valid "connections"
according to some behavioral health "experts" 
are made in court-created "legal" families through adoption. 
Mentions of natural families are made in 
condescending tones,
referring to "the bios" which are, of course, 
the source, and only source, of the child's "trauma."

What about the trauma of changing a child's identity
and expecting them to play a role 
for which they were not created to fulfill? 

A defining moment during this seminar, 
occurred when the entire room erupted in applause 
after the speaker made the assertion...

"'culture" is only defined through 'relationship'".   

 

"Best interest" of a child cannot be undermined in the "name of culture".    

 

It was obvious, everyone was thinking of the Baby Veronica case and the role ICWA played in that long-drawn out tragic battle over a child's very identity, family and personhood.

Veronica Cappobianco is living her life separated
from the family and blood that created her,
the connections that could have, and did, nurture her very core. 
All because of this theory, unethical adoption practices, 
and the power it has garnered by an adoption community 
that still sees children as "blank slates" and, unfortunately, possessions.

When will America wake up and ensure an end to the commodifying of children and conflict of interest in our adoption and child welfare systems?   

The inherent right of a child to be raised by
his/her own family is often thwarted by a system
which gives agencies and foster/hopeful adoptive parents
the legal ability to draw out a contested adoption in court
and then argue "best interest" of a child to stay
with the "only family they have ever known".

We need to ensure ethical adoption laws which
protect natural families. 
Every child deserves his/her own attorney.       

Adoptees are viewed as perpetual children in the middle
of a never-ending game of keep away. 
We are marginalized by being labeled "bitter" 
if we speak of the injustice of having our names changed, identities sealed, or families separated through coercion or conflict of interest. 
Sealed records in adoption not only strips adoptee's of their identity, but it also fails to ensure ethical adoption and child welfare practices. 
A lot can be hidden behind a sealed record.

I once spoke to an adoption attorney who asserted that a new "amended" birth certificate and name must be assigned to an adoptee in order to prevent them from being seen as "second class". 
The more I thought about it, the more I realized, that it is the act of changing and sealing our identities that actually makes us "second class".

It gives the message that adoptee's are not
accepted unless "amended".

This could be the real reason why
a child struggles with "attachment". 

Yes, "attachment" to a caregiver is necessary for survival,
but for an adoptee it feels like holding on for dear life,
while dangling over the edge of a cliff.

The last thing we need is a lucrative adoption industry
feeding society myths and flawed theories
which disenfranchise and exploit
the very ones they claim to be serving. 
Yet these same "experts" are the ones who seem
to have the ear of our court systems, DHS, legislators
and behavioral health services. 
The ones making policy decisions.
 
We now have "professionals" contracted by those who earn their living
 by adoption, defining terms such as "best interest", "psychological parent", "permanency", and "attachment"
based on the perceptions of adoptive parents,
rather than protecting the inherent right of a child
to their identity, family history and connections.

With flawed theories of "attachment" expressed in the quote below,
no wonder adoptee's live a life-time of disenfranchised grief.   

  

Since "child placing" agencies are contracting
with behavioral health "experts"
who perpetuate these myths
(and many others)
to legislators, policy makers,
and foster and adoptive parents,
whose interests are we serving? 
 
Children deserve better. 

We need to start honoring the child,
not who the child can become to complete a new family.

The fact foster and adoptive parents
don't have a biological understanding of their child,
foster and adoptive children are more at risk of being
abused or drugged just to conform
to unrealistic expectations. 

 When a child doesn't have any mirroring of their own self
 through their family, they struggle with anxiety and hyper vigilance. 
It often presents as ADD or even sensory issues. 
Yet it is termed as "attachment issues" or "RAD"
and the child is given a label for a truly natural response,
rather than the problem being placed on the system
that put the child in the unnatural situation in the first place. 

 

My heart went out to one mother who stood up asking for help
for her eighteen year old adopted son. 
She said he had gone through all "the therapy"
and was still struggling. 
What could she do? 

Out of an entire room full of self-asserted "expertise",
she got no help whatsoever. 
Instead of given resources that could have really helped her family and son,
she was given a "band aid". 

The speaker described an exercise they do with "traumatized" children which consists of giving the child a band aid and asking them to put it on their body. 

This supposedly helps the child feel more comfortable to "unload their baggage" because through acknowledging they have an "owie" somewhere on their body, they will acknowledge "heart" issues more easily. 

 

How can an adopted person honestly find their heart in the midst of loyalty issues?

Adoptees must live an identity and narrative defined by others.
That script is skewed based on societal myths
perpetuated by an adoption system that serves the "demand"
for adoptable infants and children.

The sealing of our records steals
not only our identities,
but also any accountability over the "professionals"
who profit from us.  

 Federal adoption incentives influence child welfare philosophy
and adoption policy, when states are rewarded monetarily
for each adoption completed, but not for services towards natural families, family preservation, and reunification efforts.  

"Swift Adoption" programs and "Bridge" foster parents 
whose ultimate goal is adopting, adds to the conflict of interest
in a child welfare system whose goal should be preservation
 of kinship and natural families.

We need to ensure that "permanency" isn't influenced
by financial incentives and tax credits
which adds money to state budgets 
each time they encourage "adoption" placements
over reunification efforts with a child's natural family.


An adopted child's mastery of developmental and relational tasks 
are stunted because of myths perpetuated by an adoption industry 
that splits us apart.  

  
 
I could only accept myself when I was able to know, 
and embrace my dual identity...
by both birth and adoption.
  
When I found the courage to grieve
the losses that had been disenfranchised,
I was finally able to feel and fully experience 
both the good and bad in life.

Only then, as a whole person,
could I embrace myself and my families. 

The only other adoptee I knew in the building that day
 was a darling infant boy dressed in business casual
being cooed over and passed around the table like fresh meat. 

I pray for him, and for the eighteen year old son of the concerned mother. 
And for all of us.