Monday, May 31, 2010

Adoption Carnival Eight: Little Girl Lost

Grown In My Heart is once again hosting a carnival.  This time it's about poetry..

Write a poem about adoption. Simple…then link to the original post using Mr. Linky.

Here is my entry.  It's basically about my life..but because I'm adopted, makes it all that much more raw for me.

Looking through the mirror
Wondering what kind of life she leads...

Do her parents rock her to sleep every night..
Or does she clutch her worn out blankie for comfort instead?

Does she pretend to be a princess in a far away land..
Or does she just pretend to be anywhere except where she is?

Has she ever opened up a box of cereal when one was already started?
Did her parents laugh, or did they break a spoon on her behind to teach her a lesson?

Were there bedtime stories and kisses and hugs before bed..
Or was she told, "Watch out for the boogeyman", and sent upstairs alone?

Has she been praised for her intelligence, sense of humor and compassion...
Or has she been ridiculed and called names?

What kind of friends does she have? Loyal, trustworthy, loving?
Or has she ever had her best friend pretend that she's turned invisible?

Are her parents proud of her...
Or have they called her dirty...or a piece of shit?

Has she felt the warmth of a parent's embrace...
Or has she felt the hot sting of a hand across her cheek?

Is she innocent..
Or has she lost that innocence and been told that she's a liar for telling?

Does she have a secret spot that she goes to when she plays hide and go seek..
Or does she use that spot to escape the terror in her room?

Does she look at her childhood photo albums and see her toothy smiles...
Or does she wonder why her face looks so sad?

Has she heard funny stories about her older sister growing up before she was born..
Or has she heard about the time her mother put her sister through the kitchen wall?

Was she told "It's okay" when she forgot to close the windows during a storm...
Or did her father throw her down on the bed in anger and lock her in the room?

Can she look at herself and see where she gets her nose..her eyes...her ears...
Or does she resent the differences she sees?

Does she know what unconditional love is..
Or has she been told that her parents would like to send her back?

Has she ever had a steady boyfriend..
Or is her life littered with Mr. Wrongs?

Is she content with her weight..
Or has she felt the shame of starvation, or binging and purging?

Does she love her life...
Or does she look through the mirror and wish she was me?

Monday, May 24, 2010

The Long and Winding Road

I've hesitated about talking much about my son and his relationship with his father here. Because I know that some of what I have to say won't paint me in a very good light with my adoptee friends. Or maybe I'm just "being all adopted" today and worrying too Regardless, I'm ready for the comments..good, bad, slap upside the head..I'm fine.

Word of warning..I'm not sure whether my ex's wife reads my blog clue. I don't follow her around the internet (although, truthfully, I used to, just to see if she was talking about me..hahaha)…but I've gotten over myself and realized that most likely, she feels like I do now and couldn’t care less what I say… If she's reading this then I'll hear about it from my ex and all I can say is I'm sorry that we disagree so strongly on this.

Anyway, I digress (a lot).

My son's father and I split up when Chase was three months old. And then the hard times really began. There was a restraining order put in place, and before you ask, no, he was never physically abusive towards me but that doesn't mean I wasn't fearful of what he might do. And the judge granted the order..not to keep my ex away from our son, but to keep him away from me.

Long story very short, my ex ended up leaving the state in 2004…for places unknown. Eventually, I found out that he was living in Louisiana with his pregnant girlfriend (now wife)..and they lived down there all through 2005 until 2006. He took me back to court so he could exercise his visitation rights again in early 2007.

While he was gone, I began my relationship with my current boyfriend. He's put up with a lot through the years and I'm eternally thankful for him in my life. He accepted that I was a single mother raising two children and loves them more than the world. See, this is where it gets sticky.

Every day on my way to work, I'd drop Chase off at daycare. He'd play with his friends, and get loved on by his teachers. And he'd see the parents, moms and dads, come to pick up his classmates. Every day. And he was growing and his brain was beginning to think..really think.

One day when Chase was about two years old, we got home from work/daycare and he ran into the house, straight into my boyfriend's office.

"Dahnnie! We're home!".

You see, Dahnnie = Daddy. And I'm going to be completely honest here, I said nothing. Because the fact was, at that point, I had NO idea when my ex might come back up north. No idea what his plan was for his life…only knew that right then, his number priority wasn't Chase. For better or for worse, it just wasn't. And I get that. I do. He had built a life down in Louisiana and really, I couldn't fault him for that, although it made me sad for Chase.

And my boyfriend had been there for Chase in ways that my ex logistically couldn't. The late night feedings, the diaper changes, the dinner table fiascos, the scraped knees, the boo boo kisses…the inevitable time…and Chase saw that he had what his friends had at daycare…a Dahnnie.

Flashforward to today and things are hard for Chase. More difficult than I think my ex can understand..(I'm NOT saying this is bad, or whatever…it just is)..and it's causing issues for Chase. My ex believes that Chase should not be allowed to call Steven "Daddy". Period..end of story. That because he doesn't share the same genes as Chase, he has no rights. Legally, that's correct. But morally, I respectively beg to differ. I'm adopted. I have TWO moms. The one that raised me (albeit, badly at times) and the mom that I'm biologically and inexplicably connected to. In my eyes, neither has more of a "right" to me. But both just as real as the other.

Yesterday when I got Chase back from his weekend visit, I took him over to see the rest of my afamily and Madelyn at my sister's house for my nephew's birthday. He'd had an accident in his pants. Actually, he had two accidents while we were there. Now, usually this means one of three things: He's tired, he's lazy (lol) or he's stressed out. As I got him cleaned up in my sister's bathroom, he said something to me that hurt my heart.

"Daddy yelled at me today. He said I'm not allowed to call Steven Daddy anymore." Now, whether "yelled" means talked to in a stern voice, my bet is on probably. But it was hard to hear that it's still going on. I'd kind of put it out of my head (bad Mommy) and thought that since my ex and I were being civil and decent with one another, his tone would change with Chase. But it hasn't. I simply told Chase to tell Daddy (my ex) that he can talk to Mommy about it, and that I was just happy he has so many people that love him.

And tonight, while I'm at therapy, I'll be pushing my therapist for the name of a counselor that I can take Chase to so we can address the issue and see what an unbiased third party person thinks.

Was I wrong to not tell Chase that he had a father out there somewhere? Probably. But what was I supposed to do? Sigh.

I'll bet I lost quite a few readers several paragraphs back because I'm so long winded today, but I had to write it down.

Friday, May 21, 2010

Remembering Love

My birthday is in 29 days. I'll be 29 for the *ahem* seventh time. When I was a child, birthdays always brought sadness. Oh, I'd play the game…I'd laugh and smile when everyone sang "Happy Birthday", when really, I just wanted to run away, hating to be the center of attention. I remember every year after the party had ended, laying on my bed, looking out at the moon, wondering if "she" was thinking of me. Did she remember being pregnant with me and then leaving me at the hospital?

I got my answer last year. Here is the email that I received while sitting at work…

Good morning!

and yes I remember what day it is. :)

For 35 years I have wished many heartfelt wishes. I've wondered if you were excited, what your cake looked like, even if you were bummed when it fell on a school day, Personally, I hated the fact that I usually got summer clothes for mine. LOL ANYWAY......I didn't want to just be a "comment" on your Facebook when I finally get to say to you.....not telepathically as I have for years.....Happy Birthday Sweetheart. You have been loved and thought of for every day of your 35 years. I have to admit that all of my worrying for years was for are an amazing woman. A great mom, sister, friend, and especially...daughter. I won't claim credit for any of that...but to be a part of your life today makes me happy and full beyond belief.

so...Have a great day, enjoy every second, and know that you are very loved and always have been.

this is where I sing to you in my head, usually...but today I'll sing loud.

I love you.
love, Chriss

I felt more loved in the immediate moments after reading that message than I ever felt before. It was amazing, and I cried on and off all day over it.  (As did my friends and coworkers who were allowed to read it).  I carry that feeling with me every day now. When I'm sad, or angry, or confused, I read that email and am lifted up.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Way Off Topic Part Two: A Hairy Situation

Lol, so I was thinking yesterday after writing about Chase's attempt to be Mary Poppins on his bike with the umbrella and realized that I couldn't let you all think that he's the only one with an embarassing story..

A few years ago, on a different blog, I'd written about Madelyn and her own moment in the spotlight.  I've copied and pasted that post for you here.  Promise to get back to writing about the adoption stuff, but I'm a little lazy tired. ;)

Posted on November 18, 2008:

I had a traumatic night last night…no, really…Madelyn came upstairs to the living room to tell me good night. I looked up from the purse I'm making and gasped! She had given herself BANGS (very short bangs) on ONE SIDE OF HER HEAD!!!

"Madelyn Grace! What happened to your hair?!?!?"

"Nothing…what do you mean??"

"You CUT your hair???"


"Go in the bathroom, look at yourself and then come back and tell me what you did…" She scurries off to the bathroom and it's very quiet for a few minutes.

"I don't know what happened Mom!!" This being said from the safety of the bathroom door.

"Madelyn…you need to tell me the truth."

"FINE! I cut it!!" Sobbing she ran to her room…irritated, I called her back.

"Madelyn, I'm not mad that you cut your hair..although, the smarter thing to do would have been to ask me to bring you to the hairdressers. I'm mad that you didn't tell me the truth when I asked for it." More sobbing ensued.

"Madelyn…where are the scissors?" More scurrying to her bedroom…she'd used child safety scissors.

"Madelyn…WHERE is the HAIR?" More scurrying to her bedroom…she hands me a clump of her beautiful hair. I pointed at the kitchen wastebasket. She took off for the safety of her room.

At this point, Steven came upstairs to find out what was going on…I told him and he immediately started laughing.

"Stop laughing! She's embarassed as it is…" Now I was giggling…the horror of the situation had given way to amusement.

We went down to her room and Maddie was still crying…I sat on the edge of her bed.

"It's okay honey…do you understand that Mummy was more upset that you lied about it?" Head nod. "I'll help you fix your hair for school in the morning, okay?" Double head nod.

Fast forward to this morning…she came in the bathroom for me to help comb over her hair and fasten it with a barrette…I looked at her face and said….

"MADELYN, what happened to your EYE?" As if the poor kid isn't traumatized enough…she's got Conjunctivitis. At least this will give me more time to figure out how to fix her hair, right??

It had turned out that she didn't have conjunctivitis..her eyes were just swollen from crying so hard. 

It still makes me giggle, even a year and a half later..

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Way Off Topic: My Kids Crack Me Up

Yesterday, after driving home in the rain for an hour, Madelyn met me at the garage door when I pulled in the driveway. 

In that snotty singsong tone of voice that all almost ten year old girls can have, she said, "Chase fell on his bike and got hurt..".  You could tell she wanted to add, "Stupid kid..".  But thankfully she restrained herself and left it at that. 

I walked up the stairs to the bathroom where I could hear my boyfriend coaxing a sobbing Chase into the shower.

"C'mon'll feel better if you get the dirt's that elbow?"

"I-i-it h-h-h-hurts.."..he said while crying unconsolably.  When he realized I was in the room too, he cried even harder and I peeked in to see him in the shower.  He did manage to scrape his elbow in magnificent fashion, and damaged his pride quite a bit too. 

All he would tell me at the time was that he'd fallen off his bike at his friend's house.  I knew, from the way he was avoiding my eyes, that there was more to the story.

After he gingerly got out of the tub, and while he was getting in his jammies, I decided to ask Madelyn if she saw him fall. 

"No..but I know he was riding his bike and holding his umbrella at the same time so he probably couldn't balance.."


Monday, May 17, 2010

Have A Nice (Guilt) Trip?

Just got home from therapy.  Feeling off..per usual.  My afather's birthday is coming up soon...May 25th to be precise.  And historically, in the almost seven years since he's been dead, my family has gathered at the cemetery to plant flowers and clean up around his gravestone on his birthday and on the anniversary of his death (September 12th).  If you recall, I didn't want to go plant flowers in September..but I went anyway.  And now, I've gotten the dreaded question posed to me by my amother.

"What day works for you to go to the cemetery?"


I've been stressed out the past few months, waiting for this.  I don't want to go...I deserve to say "Look Mom, I need to be truthful with myself and recognize that going to plant flowers at the grave isn't helping me, nor is it healthy, so I'm just not going to go...".  But it doesn't feel safe to say no.

Doesn't feel safe, you ask?

Speaking as the adult Christina, I realize how stupid that sounds. 

But to the child that was taught to NEVER say no to her mother because's not safe.

My asister has no problem telling our mother no.  She feels no regret..and can graciously refuse the one way ticket to Guilt that I always seem to be traveling to.  And I know, through therapy thankyouverymuch, that I am the one allowing myself to get on the train/plane/automobile for the journey, but it's just really hard to just say no.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Dear Sixth Blog of Shame Award Winner **Updated!**

Clearly I can't follow directions because I left you a comment after you specifically told me to not visit your blog, I really

Just to make sure you know though, I didn't leave an anonymous comment on your blog.  I left one that told you about your blog award..and then another to tell you that you must have offended someone else. 

Hope that helps!

**Update** As a postscript to the ongoing saga...the PAP's in the story have decided NOT to name their not-yet-theirs child Ireland...they've settled on Emersyn.  ::snicker::  Was it something we said?

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Speed Bump Ahead

UGH! I wanted to do something different with the background for my blog and I can't seem to get it right. I'm annoyed, crabby and irritated.

And yes, I did have therapy last night and yes, that is why I'm annoyed, crabby and irritated.


I'm sorry for the state of my blog. Consider this your warning that it is under construction..much like me and my life.

Friday, May 7, 2010

*Updated (Again)* A Plea for Help

One of my former managers needs your thoughts and prayers today…about a month ago, she found out she had an aggressive form of lung cancer (never smoked a day in her life) and that it had spread to her lymph nodes. A few days ago she went in for surgery to remove the tumor from one of her lungs and they ended up having to remove it. She now has pneumonia and was placed on life support. Everyone is just devastated by the news and at this point, our hope is that if the end is coming, that it comes quickly.

Could you all just take a minute and offer her up in your prayers and thoughts? Thank you my bloggity friends..

Linda..I am praying for you.

*Update*  Just found out that they had to insert a catheter into one side of Linda's heart because it wasn't functioning properly.  Her liver is not working well and neither are her kidneys.  They're starting dialysis as well.

*Updated (Again)*  Linda passed away yesterday (May 12th) at the age of 50.  She was a vibrant, compassionate, beautiful person and will be missed by all who knew her.  Thank you all for your kind prayers and thoughts.

Monday, May 3, 2010

Adoption Carnival Seven

Another carnival is going on at Grown In My Heart…this time it's in honor of Mother's Day.


• Post a picture of your mother (the one you most refer to as a mom). This could be your grandmother, your birthmother, your aunt, your sister, your biological mom, your adoptive mom, your best friend, your surrogate mom…Your MOTHER.

• Include a Six-Word-Memoir with the picture describing her/what she means to you.

• Link back to GIMH with Mr. Linky

• If you don’t have a blog you can email your carnival submission to us at pickelfam at yahoo dot com

• If you are not in the adoption community you can STILL enter!

This is a difficult carnival for me…because I have two mothers…and because I feel like I'd be disloyal to one or the other depending on who I chose to show and write about.


Truthfully, while I love my adoptive mother…I'm going to be completely honest here, sometimes I feel like it's because I 'have' to…because I'd appear ungrateful (yuck..hate that word) if I didn't say it. With my natural mother, it's a much more easygoing, laidback relationship…and the love I feel for her is different. It feels more…real…if that makes any sense. And while I know that both of my mothers are real, I have to speak my mind and look deep in my heart to see who my mom is.

Blah blah blah Christina..get to the effing picture, right?

My six word phrase to describe her and what she means to me?

"Life has become a fairy tale…"