Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Well, Thank Goodness THAT'S Over

"National Ripped-From-Our-Natural-Families-Because-It-Was-Apparently-God's-Plan-For-Us Month", that is. 

For the love of all that's good and holy in the world, can we just skip November next year?

I had to cut back on my posting this month.  I just couldn't deal with all the "Rah Rah adoption is wonderful, you just don't know what you're missing!" crap.  Ummm, yes, actually I DO know what I'm missing. 

My life.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Little Girl Lost

Just for shits and giggles, I was looking at the Myspace blog posts I'd written back in 2008..before I was found.  I came across the following poem I'd written.  It's a bit dark, just to warn you all.

What bugs the hell out of me is one day I'd write dark, depressing poems...and the next day I'd write posts about how much I missed my father.  Even though it's clear that I subconsciously knew, way back then, what kind of monster he was.

She sits in her room alone, gazing at the stoic reflection that has become her mask. The sound of her own breathing startles her..she has forgotten she even exists in the real world.

Little girl lost, sinks slowly into the looking glass. She is outwardly pristine and perfect. Inside, she is beaten and bloodied by the Mad Hatter of her nightmares.

The cheshire cat sneers at her from his perch above the mirror, mocking her for believing that she could still be considered innocent.

Who is she kidding? Her purity is gone, she is tarnished by a childhood marred by others and their secret agendas. Shhh, don't tell. They won't believe you anyway.

She has been raped by a system of dogooders gone bad...their concern is only fleeting..their words of concern are whispered, they hope she can't hear them. They don't believe her anyway.

Little girl lost finally removes her mask and sees...nothing.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

What Is An Object?

Definition of OBJECT

a : something material that may be perceived by the senses
b : something that when viewed stirs a particular emotion (as pity)

a : something mental or physical toward which thought, feeling, or action is directed
b : something physical that is perceived by an individual and becomes an agent for psychological identification
a : the goal or end of an effort or activity 
b : a cause for attention or concern 

An object is NOT…

a child. A child is not something that is to be coveted. A child is not an object to be shunned just because you don’t have one.

However, according to this blogger, a child IS an object, as is pregnancy itself.

“It’s easy for the children to become a representation of all that you want, and so far, don’t have.”

So here’s the thing. Maybe I’m not so different from this blogger after all. As a child, I totally and completely coveted my friends’ parents and their lives. I wanted to be in a family that was my own. The huge difference is, I wasn’t allowed to leave the room just because I didn’t look like my adoptive relatives. I couldn’t tell my mother, “Hey, can you move me to a different table because I don’t look like the cousins?”.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Stormy Fear

My friends laugh at me because of my phobias.  I have a real problem with flying insects that can sting me and cause me pain.  I have no shame in admitting that I have screamed like a little kid on millions of more than one occasion.  Oddly enough, I've only been stung once and that was when I was 23.  But once was more than enough thankyouverymuch.

My other phobia usually only manifests itself during the hot summer months.  Thunder and lightning.  I literally shake in fear, frozen on the couch, while the storms rage outside.  It's worse when I'm alone because I don't have my kids for whom I have to be brave. 

It wasn't until tonight in therapy that I've realized part of why I'm so deathly afraid of storms...

When I was little, we'd get humongous storms.  Living in the valley of a mountain (actually more like a big, glorified hill, but whatever), we'd get pummeled by the lightning and thunder nearly every night during the summer.  The windows would be open...and the curtains would start to blow inward from the force of the wind.  Suddenly my mother would come to life and yell, "Shut the windows!  The rain's coming!!!".  My sister and I would immediately snap to and rush around shutting the windows, hoping we were moving fast enough to avoid my mother's anger.

One night, when I was probably seven or eight years old, I fucked up.

I forgot one of the windows in my parents' bedroom.

My father had gone upstairs during the middle of the storm and screamed my name.  I ran upstairs and froze at the doorway.  The look on his face was that of a rage-filled monster.  I just stood there and started crying out..."I'm sorry.!!  I thought it was closed!"

He slammed the window shut and in two strides was standing in front of me.  He grabbed me by both of my upper arms and threw me forcefully across the room onto the bed. 


Then he left.  And locked me in the room.

That night taught me a lot.  I learned to move faster.  I learned that I hated thunderstorms.  I learned that I never wanted to show anger because I didn't want to be like him. 

I learned that I was trapped.  Not just in that room...but in my life.

Monday, November 8, 2010

I Am A Biological Mother

Knowing what you know about me, after reading my blog for the past year, how many of you were shocked to read the title of this post?  C'mon..raise your hands...

I am a biological mother...a natural mother...a real mother...a birth mother. 

The difference between what I mean by those terms and what some adoptive parents mean by those terms is huge.  My daughter and son have my biological DNA coursing through their bodies.  I gave birth to them naturally...I am real to them...I am their birth mother.

BUT...they were not relinquished for adoption.  I am raising them.  But that doesn't make me any less a birth mother than any of my natural mother friends or my own natural mother. 

Get it?

I read a blog post today...and it angered me.  I know, I know, you're not surprised.  Especially when I remind you that it's still "National Ripped-From-Our-Natural-Families-Because-It-Was-Apparently-God's-Plan-For-Us Month".

The blog post was about Positive Adoption Language...PAL vs. "Negative" Adoption Language.  I can assure you that what she was discussing is not MY pal by any stretch of the imagination and if you're an adoptee or a natural mother, it's not YOUR pal either. 

It just seems that the only people who have a problem with the "Negative Adoption Language" are typically adoptive parents and potential adoptive parents.  They negate the impact of adoption on their children and the adoptees that have matured into adults because it's easier on them to pretend that the child was a blank slate when they got them.  Nothing mattered before Gotcha Day...only what happened after. 

I AM adopted.  Always have been, always will be.  I was given up when I was only a day old.  And 34 years later, my natural mother made contact with me.  And then we moved on to reunion.  I'm in reunion with my natural mother and my family...saying that "reunion" is negative again minimizes the effect that it's had on my life.  Making contact is writing a letter..making a phone call...reaching out.  Reunion is a process that can't be compartmentalized into a single moment. 

I'm a little shocked that the term "adoptive parent" is offensive to, well, adoptive parents.  I mean, many of them spend a lot of time proclaiming how wonderful adoption is and how God loves adoption...wouldn't you think they'd WANT to attach that label to themselves??  To show how self-sacrificing they are to take in a child "born to unmarried parents"? 

What's even more shocking is that the blog author could write the following on the post:

"It is very important to understand the difference between positive & negative adoption language when speaking with an adoptee and/or adoptive family. Here are some good pointers."

I think that if she'd taken out the "speaking with an adoptee" part, she would have captured the essence of what she was really trying to say.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010


Rather than sit here and make my headache worse by continuing to color code this effing spreadsheet, I'm going to blog. About what you ask? Hmmm…not actually sure. Figure I'll just make this into a stream of consciousness post and hope for the best. Which means you should all be preparing for the worst.

Any of you who are friends with me on my "In Real Life" Facebook page (rather than the "Natural Name" one) will know my good news. As of a few weeks from now, I'll officially be hired on at my job as a permanent employee. I've been picking my ass for the last year, waiting for the bomb to explode in my life. Waiting for my contracting job to be dissolved and to be handed a pink slip. (Why do they hand out pink slips…why not blue…or green…or just plain white??) Ever since they told the contractors in the department that our jobs were being shipped overseas, I've been waiting.

Oh, I was told how valuable I am as an employee…that they were just waiting for an opening that they could hire me directly for…"Be patient Christina".."Don't panic yet Christina"…"We aren't going to get rid of you Christina". But then I sat back and watched all but TWO of my contracting coworkers get hired on by the company..one by one. And still I sat. Still doing the same job as I'd been hired for back in May of 2007, but not reaping the benefits of more days off, higher wages, better insurance, 401K, short/long term disability, blah blah frigging blah. This went on until May of this year. And then after the contract officially ended, I was told that I'd be kept on as a contractor for now until they could open a position "for real" for me.

The issue I have had the past few months is that I'm doing the work of a full time employee. Instead of collecting $8M in accounts receivable…I've been collecting on a $100M accounts receivable portfolio. Same hours as everyone else, but again, not getting anything out of it really. Greedy? Maybe. But I've got two kids who are going to need braces soon (God help me now) and a $500 contact lens/eye glasses bill every year that I'd love to be able to pay without having to sell an arm or a leg or my first born (BAD joke..I know…). But last week, I was told that things were going to change for me. I'll be hired on within the next few weeks and won't have to worry about my job anymore. The relief I feel is immense. The sense of security is so much better than it was this past year.

After they announced that I'd be coming aboard permanently, the conference room filled with all the managers and my peers erupted into applause. They know how difficult it's been for me to be patient and not to panic. They've supported me emotionally..much like all of you support me too. They knew there wasn't anything they could really do for me except let me vent and cry when the stress became too much. And it did…it became too much…a lot. But I'm coming through the dark tunnel…out into the light and I am so glad I hung in there to see the reward.

How's that for a positive post? I mean, my blog shouldn't be all negative all the time, right?

Monday, November 1, 2010

NAM-arama Ding Dong: Is It December Yet?

I'll be needing a TON of eye bleach to get through the coming month.  Why, you ask?  What?  You didn't hear???  It's the most wonderful time of year known as National Adoption Month.  Beginning in September the blog posts start.  I can deal with one or two showing up on my Google Reader, but then towards the end of October the onslaught of unicorns farting skittles and rainbow and sunshine-filled posts begin.  And let me tell you, I get twitchy.  Real twitchy. 

See, if I were to rename November, it'd be called "National Ripped-From-Our-Natural-Families-Because-It-Was-Apparently-God's-Plan-For-Us Month".

Offended?  Sorry.  But the thing is, I don't need a month designated to thinking about adoption.  I've had 36 years to do that.  Every day I ponder my own existence.  Every day I wonder what I did in another life to tick someone off that much to cause THIS to be my life and my burden to bear.  Pissing in someone's cereal doesn't seem like it'd be a good enough reason. 

I've discussed before why I don't celebrate adoption..but perhaps it bears repeating.  (This list is copied and pasted from this post..)

I celebrate my childrens' birthdays.

I celebrate Christmas..Thanksgiving..Mother's Day..Father's Day (for my childrens' fathers..not my own. He sucked).
I celebrate the births of my friends' babies.
I celebrate the lives of those who have passed on.

I celebrate every pound loss in my effort to become healthy.
I celebrate each dinner date I enjoy with my boyfriend.
I celebrate the fact that I still have a job (for now).
I celebrate my Libby (Jeep Liberty) for getting me back and forth to places I want/need to go.
I celebrate the Constitution of the United States that allows me Freedom of Speech.
I celebrate each moment I spend with both of my families..adoptive and natural.
I celebrate my daughter being in her school's spelling bee.
I celebrate my son for singing Taylor Swift at the top of his lungs while wearing his big sister's "Princess" shirt.
I celebrate my boyfriend for all the trips up and down the stairs to jiggle the handle on the dishwasher when it makes funny noises.
I celebrate my God for teaching me that there is more than one way to love and honor my Creator.

I do not celebrate something that rips aparts families.
I do not celebrate something that prohibits millions of Americans and others across the globe from obtaining their original birth certificates.
I do not celebrate something that causes children to get upset in school because they have to lie on their Family Tree projects.
I do not celebrate something that changes the names on a legal document and says that Amom and ADad are the biological parents of an adoptee.
I do not celebrate something that causes such a deep rooted feeling of loss.
I do not celebrate something that sometimes causes a sense of baby entitlement in so many people.
I do not celebrate "National Adoption Month".
I do not celebrate being silenced because I disagree with the statement, "Adoption is wonderful".

I do not celebrate adoption.