Many adoptees write about father’s day. Mother’s day too. They are hard days for many of us.
I dreamt of my father the other day. We were on vacation sleeping in an RV, on the beach when a seagull woke us. He was on the roof,and we could hear his claws scratching. He tried to get in through the skylight! It was kinda funny,and it woke me out of a sound sleep, in the middle of a dream.
In the dream, I complained that my father never gave me a birthday gift, or any gift at all. The person I was complaining to said she never got gifts either, and I said, “but it was the same for all your brothers and sisters too. My father gives gifts to his other children,just not to me”.
In the early days of reunion, I sent my father father’s day cards, and had my children sign cards for their only grandfather. I stopped after 2 years, because i realized that my father does not consider me to be his child,and doesn’t consider my 4 children his grandchildren.He’s content with the ones he kept.They were born from the right woman,at the right time,unlike me.
My father has the legal right to disown me, completely and totally. He signed his rights away,and I’m not his daughter. Not next of kin, not anything at all, even though I am his first born. Even though his parents are my grandparents. Even though every relative he has, I have too.
None of that matters. He didn’t want me, so he’s not my father. Simple as that.
This is how I feel about adoption, and loyalty. In my case, it was not necessary. If my parents could manage to parent other kids,they could have parented me too. It might not have been heaven,but neither is being given up for adoption. It’s harsh, people. It’s the ultimate disrespect and rejection. your own mother, for goodness sakes. Maternal abandonment, the stuff of nightmares and madness.
And you’re supposed to like it. No matter how open,and whatever words are sid, you are supposed to love your adoptive parents. It’s practically an order. They took you in, orphan waif that your mother made you, and housed you, and brought you up to be proper, a step above your humble beginnings. A little leg up in the world, for lucky you.
I didn’t like it. It seemed like a raw deal. I’d rather live in squalor,with my own dear mother,then live in a palace with strangers, having to pretend to be their kid. Yuck. No thanks, but i have no choice, do i, because I am an orphan waif, thanks again Mom, and I have to take whatever you’re dishing out in order to stay alive.
I guess that seems harsh but I just don’t see how people can adopt. once they do that,they seem bad and kinda evil to me. how can you take the child of a living woman, and make it call you mother? What gives you the right?
So,my adoptive mother is evil. My natural mother is bad too,she gives away her babies.
It’s about a woman who finds her family. So many people have critical comments about it, saying that the woman should honor her adoptive parents more, and that she is somehow disrespecting or belittling them by loving her mother and family.
This kind of thinking seems so wrong to me. Why aren’t we allowed to love our mothers, like the rest of humankind? Why are we held apart from this right?
They say it’s because our mothers gave us away, so we should not love them anymore, and also not be mad at them for the wonderful thing they did to us, all wile thanking our adoptive parents for rescuing us from the gutter, or death, or worse!
An awful lot for an orphan to handle, don’t you think? And the criticism for searching and loving is harsh and punishing. No wonder we rarely speak out.
What does this behavior say about open adoption, the wonderful change that made adoption great for everyone? If you are maligned for searching for your family, what are you if you love your mother in an open adoption with another family? We are supposed to hide our love for our mothers, out of loyalty to the ones who bought us,and paid for our childhoods.
My dear husband, not adopted explained it this way. What if you had a mother, and you loved her and suddenly someone came and told you you had to live with another family, and another woman would be your mother now. They tell you you will forget all about the other mother, and you won’t see or think about her anymore. How would you feel?
Well, that’s just how I feel about my mother. Just exactly that way. By this I mean my real mother, the one who gave me life, and who I never stopped loving.