adoptee, adoption, anger, birthfather, birthmother, family, father, mother, orphan, pain, parenting, rejection, Uncategorized

Summer

 

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is pexels-photo-1122868.jpeg

I was always sent away for the summer. Mom and Dad had to work. There was no one to take care of me, so I had to go. It was so scary living with other families. I never knew what to expect.

I was 6 the first time, sent to Mom’s sister’s house. I remember the fear. What would my cousins do to me? Why was I alone, with no one to love me? What did I do to deserve this?

I never said a word. Next year, back to Aunties. I guess i finally said something, because the next years, off to Dad’s sister’s. That was better. The cousins there were not cruel. Still living with a strange family, but a lot less fear.

Eventually I was sent to summer camp, for 4 summers. I know summer camp is supposed to be fun, but I hated it. Hated sports. It was a kosher camp, with Friday night services, and I wasn’t Jewish. I had trouble fitting in.

It was 50 years ago, but I still feel for that little girl. I don’t know why they bothered to adopt.

 

adoptee, adoption, anger, birthfather, birthmother, brother, family, father, grandfather, grandmother, half brother, half sister, mother, orphan, pain, parenting, pregnancy, rejection, reunion, shunning, Uncategorized

I’m Going to be a Grandmother!

woman pregnant in black and white striped shirt standing near bare tree
Photo by Leah Kelley on Pexels.com

My oldest daughter is due to have a baby girl in 2 months.  I’m very, very happy.  I love babies, and can’t wait to meet my little granddaughter.

Of course,  this wonderful news brings up feelings about my birth, and adoption.  I’m estranged from my father’s family.  I don’t think they know anything about my daughter’s pregnancy, unless they somehow heard through social media, or from someone in the neighborhood.  My half brother, Mom’s son lives in the same area as many of my father’s relatives.  He owns a house with his half brother (same dad, different mom). My cousin E rents an apartment in that house.  E is my late mother’s half sisters son.  I invited E’s preteen daughter to my daughter K’s baby shower, and she said she will attend.  She will be the only blood relative of mine that will be there, aside from my 3 daughters.  The only member of my adoptive family that will be there is my adoptive mother.

Luckily, my husband has a big family, so my daughter will have blood cousins and aunts there.  Only my side will be lacking.  I have a sister, sister in law and many female cousins and aunts, but they are not part of my life, and I don’t think they ever will be.  My father will be a great grandfather, but I have no idea if he would care about that.  My mother did not live to see her great granddaughter.  My half brother will be a great uncle.  My Dad’s kids, will also be a great aunt and uncle.  They are 31 and 24 years old.

I don’t know if my cousin, who lives in the house my brother owns told my brother about the baby.

I want to tell everyone, so much.  I want them to all come to the shower. I want my granddaughter to be marveled over.  I want my family to say who she looks like.  I want us all to be part of their lives.  I don’t want to be treated like a monster.  I don’t want to be hated and feared.

But, what I want doesn’t matter.  I’ll love my granddaughter.  I love my children.

I still wish we could be part of my family, though.

adoptee, adoption, anger, birthfather, birthmother, family, father, mother, orphan, parenting, surrogacy, Uncategorized

Surrogacy

rent

 

Nate Berkus and his partner have commissioned another child.  They paid another woman, or women, if a separate egg donor was used, to sell her body in order for them to raise another child.  They purposefully, and willfully separated a human being from their mother, and half of their natural family, simply to satisfy their own desires.

And the world loves it!  So progressive! How brave, you deserve it.  Don’t the children these men are raising deserve to know their own mother?  How can anyone deny a child that, and then say they love that child?  Are these men so blinded by their wants that they cannot see what they have done?

I guess the answer is yes.  And most of society seems to agree.  “Biology means nothing”, they cry.  “Love makes a family”.  But not their family.  They want their own children, and their own parents, thank you very much.  Biology matters to them, it just isn’t supposed to matter to those created to fulfill desire.  Or those bought to create a family.  We are the exceptions to the rule.

If biology really didn’t matter, why do they bother to identify babies born in the hospital?  Why not just mix em up, and hand them out to parents randomly.  It really shouldn’t matter, right?

I’ll bet it would matter a lot.  As it should.  Buying or selling human beings, or the materials used to create human beings is wrong.  It is wrong because it dishonors the child.  It takes something from the child that should never be taken.  It takes the child’s parent and heritage, and the child is powerless to stop it.

Say anything against this and you’ll be called old fashioned, misogynistic and anti LGBT.  How else can these people raise a family?  Maybe, sometimes, they can’t.  Or, they have to find a way that honors the child’s heritage, and includes all of their biological family in the child’s life.  It’s the least you can do, for a child you love so much.

 

adoptee, adoption, anger, birthfather, birthmother, brother, death, family, father, mental illness, mother, pain, rejection, reunion, shunning, Uncategorized

DNA

dna

 

 

My father’s sister did 23 and me, and guess who popped up on her DNA family page, little ole me!

She was listed as my half sister, which would either mean her father,  is my father too, or my father, her brother is her father too.  I don’t think either is the case, with DNA relatives, they come close, but the exact relationship isn’t always certain.  But I kinda liked the idea that my dad slept with his mother.  Then finally his family would see he wasn’t a great guy.  I thought it was kinda funny.

So, I contacted her, on the 23 and me website.  We shared our DNA profiles.  It was nice.  Then we started emailing.  I shared my huge Ancestry.com tree with her.  She asked if I wanted to meet for dinner sometime, me and hubby with her and her hubby.

I did not want to do that.  I told her about the shunning, and she said my cousin, the one who told me about the shunning had it wrong.  There was no decision to shun me.  I guess it was not official, but everyone did it anyway?

Strangely, I have no desire to see my Aunt.  She does not mean much to me.  She told me that she loves my father, “warts and all” and cannot speak about his decisions.  Fair enough.  I can, and his decisions hurt a lot of people.  He’s a scumbag.  As long as I feel this way, I don’t think I can ever get along well with my aunt.  We can’t have a casual going out to dinner kind of relationship.  Especially after all those years of silence.

And…still no word about my mother.  No acknowledgement of her death.  No I’m sorry, nothing.  why would I want to be near this woman?  Well, I don’t.

Auntie said she’d be there if I ever wanted to get to know her.  Does that sound like a loving invitation?  It does not to me.  I know enough to stay away from this one…

 

 

adoptee, adoption, anger, birthfather, birthmother, brainwashing, brother, family, father, mental illness, mother, pain, rejection, reunion, shunning, Uncategorized

Maybe I’ve Got it All Wrong

 

Family-gallery-for-clip-art-pictures-of-families-clipartcow

 

I think my birth parents are my parents, not my adoptive parents.

I do not think I’m related to my adoptive parents at all.  I can’t understand how I can be expected to believe unrelated strangers are my family.  I was raised by, and around my adoptive family, but I never,ever thought, or wished that I was related to any of them.

They’re OK people.  Not too bright, actually.  My mother was much smarter.  More damaged, for sure, but quick, in a way the adopters are not.  Mom & I both have large vocabularies.  A-mom, not so much.

It’s not a popular point of view, but it’s one I just cannot shake.

No one likes it.  My adoptive family think it’s wrong, because my A-parents raised me, and I should see them as my parents.  My birth family doesn’t like it.  I’m not sure how they feel about it, but it seems they don’t consider me a relative, and wish I would just vanish.  Which I have.  I have little contact with my natural family, 7 years after reunion.

We may have no contact, but they are still my relatives.  No matter what everyone else believes.

Are there any others out there like me, who do not understand how we’re supposed to believe strangers are our families?  Please let me know how it is for you.

adoptee, adoption, anger, birthfather, birthmother, brother, death, family, father, mental illness, mother, pain, rejection, reunion, shunning, Uncategorized

She Should Have Been Proud

Mothers_and_children_II

 

My dear departed mother should have been proud of me.

I’m getting ready to go to work this morning.  I’m a supervisor in a busy government office.  I’ve raised 4 wonderful people into adulthood.  I own my own home and have been married to my sweetie for 34 years.

But she hated me.  My family shuns me.  It breaks my heart.  No matter what I do, it is never good enough.  I am tainted.  I am tainted by their rejection.

adoptee, adoption, anger, birthfather, birthmother, brother, family, father, mother, pain, rejection, reunion, shunning, Uncategorized

Another Letter

writing-letter-586d7bbe5f9b584db320f6c5

 

I like the letter format.  It helps me organize my thoughts.  This one I probably will not send, but you never know.

Dear Dad,

 

I should say I hope this letter finds you well, but I really don’t.  Your health means nothing to me.  Let’s start again then.

Hi Dad.  How are you?

I don’t even know if you’re still alive, or if you can speak or read.  I don’t know if you still live in your own home, or are in an institution.  I know nothing about your day to day life.  Do you still drive?  The last communication I got from you, I think 4 years or more ago said that you were ill and not able to leave the house much.  I don’t know if you have recovered, or if the illness has gotten worse.  I hope it’s not a heredity illness, but you have chosen to keep that a secret.  Maybe it’s a result of your past drug use, like the liver disease that killed my mother.

Our little family is well. A’s 20 now and in Copenhagen, doing a semester abroad.  I can’t imagine living her life.  I did not go to college, and have never been to Europe.  I’m proud that I can provide this experience for my child.

C is 25, and in graduate school, getting her teaching degree.  She lives at home with us.  K is 30, and a practicing court reporter.  She travels around with her machine, taking depositions for several court reporting agencies.  She goes all over, Brooklyn, Queens and Manhattan.  She’s living at home for now too, but saving up to get her own place.

Your oldest grandchild, P is 31 and still working for the county.  He’s been there for 10 years, and is a supervisor.  He has his own place a few miles away.

I just got promoted to supervisor at the DMV!  It’s scary and exciting.

I write letters to you all the time in my head, so I decided to write one down.  There is so much I must say, but no one really wants to hear it.

Being an adopted adult is a very strange experience.  There are not that many of us out there.  Closed infant adoption is rare.  Everyone knows someone who is adopted, but not many people know how it feels to be one of us.

We are told how to feel, by everyone.  Our bio and adopted families both see us as “different”.  We do not fit anywhere.  We face things every day, that most people have no idea about.  We seem normal on the outside, but we suffer on the inside.

I am part of a dying breed.  Infant adoption is not as popular as it used to be.  Women are keeping their babies.  It’s not as shameful as it was in the old days.  Closed adoption is rare now.  Society has seen the pain and problems that it caused, and the trend is for more openness in infant adoption.

I, personally think all types of adoption are abusive to children.  Babies need their mothers, not strangers, and every effort should be made to keep children and their mothers together.  If that’s not possible, family care should always be considered next.  Stranger adoption should be an absolute last resort.

Growing up with strangers is a bewildering experience.  I knew that I was adopted from before I could speak or understand.  I cannot remember the terrible moment when I learned the truth about my sad beginnings.  It was always there.  I always knew that my own mother gave me away, and I could never understand why.  Even after we met, her reasons were never clear.

She blamed you, but she had to sign those papers too.  I know she wanted me to have a better life than she did, but why she thought giving me to random strangers was the way to do that confuses me.  How can you be sure your child has a good life, if you have no idea where they are, or what’s happening to them?

I faced many harsh realities as a child.  I could never be the biological child my adoptive parents wanted, and I could never go back to my real family.  I was stuck in a nightmare world, with no way out.

When I found my family, I was dismayed to find that you had a stable upbringing.  I was upset, because it went against what the agency told my adoptive parents, that you were too poor to take care of me.  You were not.

I quickly realized that there was a reason that you did not want your family to help raise me.  I’m still not sure what that reason is.  I can only suspect that it had to do with my mother’s race.  I feel strongly that your father knew what was going on, and he was aware of the adoption.  I think other family members knew too.

When my mother had her third pregnancy, she called my brother’s grandmother, and told her that she had my brother.  My brother’s father’s family helped my mother raise her son.  She finally got to keep one of her children.

So, why couldn’t your family do the same?  Why did I have to be given to strangers?  I don’t think there is an answer that will make sense to me.

 

Well, that’s it for now.

 

Sincerely,

 

/Marylee

adoptee, adoption, anger, birthfather, birthmother, brother, death, family, father, good vs evil, mental illness, multiple personality disorder, pain, rejection, reunion, shunning, Uncategorized

A Letter to My Father

 

writing-letter-586d7bbe5f9b584db320f6c5

September 13, 2017

 

Dear Dad,

 

I can’t believe it’s almost 7 years since I found my family.  It hurts so much to know that you are all out there, and I am so alone.

It’s been over 2 years since my mother died, and I haven’t heard a word from my family.  I don’t think anyone can imagine how bad that feels.  It’s a terrible curse to have a family, but not be part of it.

The last family member I heard from was my cousin W.  She told me that the entire family decided that it was best not to have any contact with me.  Best for who? I asked, but there was no answer.  It’s not best for me, so I guess it must be best for the rest of you.

It was best to give me away as a newborn, and best to shun me as an adult.  But, never, ever best for me.  Best for me would have been to live and grow up with my family, and best for me would have my family accept and love me as I am.  I will never get that.  What’s best for me is not very important to my family.

I still live with the pain of being cast out.  It does not get better.

I did not attend my mother’s memorial.  My brother kicked me out of hospice on her last day.  He asked when he got to be alone with his mother.  I guess his whole life was not enough for him.

My mother and her friends hated me, so I thought it best to stay away from the memorial.  I never saw my brother, John after he kicked me out of hospice.

You are the one with the mystery illness, but my mother was the one who died.  Life’s funny like that.

Anyway, just wanted to let you know how much being abandoned, and shunned hurts.  I’m pretty sure you don’t care, since you always do what’s best for you.  And never, ever what’s best for me.

 

Marylee

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

adoptee, adoption, anger, birthfather, birthmother, brother, death, dissociate identity disorder, drugs, family, father, good vs evil, mental illness, mother, multiple personality disorder, pain, rejection, reunion, Uncategorized

Two years ago…

1271912_160367034164261_1997061723_oMy dear mother died 2 years ago today.

I was not there.  My auntie was, I made sure Mom was not alone.  I gave her her sister.  Aunt Ginny was in jail when I told her Mom was sick.  She was in a bad way.  I bought her a bus ticket, from Michigan to NYC, so she could be with my mother.  I couldn’t do it, because I was a stranger to my own mother.

Mom was not comfortable with me.  I guess it was because she gave me away, and because she was mentally ill.

I don’t understand mental illness.  I never had experience with it, before I found my mother.  I did not know how cruel mental illness was.  It allows a person to do terrible things.  They don’t want to do those things, but their mind bends in a way that makes them think what they are doing in OK.

I still have a lot to learn.  I’m still so angry, at my mother, at the world.  At whoever made me what I am.

I never got to know my mother.  Oh God, why did you do this to me?  Are you to blame?

adoptee, adoption, anger, birthfather, birthmother, brainwashing, brother, cocaine, death, family, father, hospital, mental illness, mother, pain, rejection, reunion, Uncategorized

Another Dead Mother

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAMy co worker’s mother died a few days ago.  Some of us from work went to the wake.  Jill’s mother looked beautiful, laid out in the casket, in a smart red suit.  Her beloved Jelly beans and a deck of cards were tucked in beside her.

Jill’s mother was 95 when she died, in Jill’s house, where they had been living together for years.  Jill was by her side when she passed.  Jill’s daughter was there too.  It was a “good death”, if such a thing can be good.

Of course, seeing Jill and her mother brought back a lot of feelings about my own mother’s death.

I was there near the end, with Mom, but not at the end.  Mom was in hospice.  I was not really a welcome visitor in my mother’s room.  I did not go to Mom’s memorial service.  I did not view her body.  She was cremated immediately.  I longed for one last look, but it was not to be.

I had no choices regarding Mom’s care, her service or her remains.  I am her firstborn, and natural next of kin, but adoption erased all that.  I was merely an unwelcome stranger.

Someday I may bury my adoptive mother.  I’ll be the next of kin.  As an only child, I’ll make all the decisions.  But, she is not my mother.  My mother is dead.