Out of the Fog

The Best of Intentions

2012-01-10T07:42:00.002-05:00

You know, I really try to get along with my ex and his wife. I do. Sometimes things just get to me and I snap.

I've started a wedding blog. Dorky, I know..but I figured not everyone here would care about my day to day stressing out about planning for this grand event so I'd keep it separate. Lol...I can't blog about what I'm about to say on that site though and here's why.

So, I'm into crochet. I love the peace it brings me and has brought me for over ten years. I still consider myself a beginner because I stick to scarves, bags and shawls at the moment but the rush I feel when I finish a piece is exhilarating.

I'm also a member of a Crochet forum...and have been for four years. I was mainly a lurker until recently but had gotten many ideas from the people there and finally decided to start posting. I linked my wedding blog to my signature there and left it at that.

The other day, I noticed that my ex's wife had commented on one of my posts..and then had deleted it. For some background, she commented on a post where I had a picture of a daisy I had crocheted.

I assumed that either she 1.) is a member of the crochet forum (DS has told me that she crochets too) as well and mistakenly commented and realized that it was me afterwards and decided to delete it or 2.) she wanted to make peace and actually get to know me but got nervous about my possible response and tried to get rid of it.

Yeah, three guesses on which option it was..the first two guesses don't count.

Here is the email exchange between us.

My email to her:

"Hi K, it’s Christina.
To answer the question you deleted on my blog, we don’t have a date yet.
I’m assuming you found me from <crochet forum name>?...If that’s it, I don’t even know what your username is.
I’m not trying to make anything uncomfortable for you by emailing you. Just wanted to let you know that I don’t care if you read my blog or not.
Thanks,
Christina”

Her response to me:

"Look its simple. Yeah the <crochet forum name> was where I stumbled upon you. I’m pretty active there. I wasn’t looking for you. When I figured out it was you I immediately deleted my comment on your blog.
You and I are connected through <DS> and that’s it. Past him, I want nothing about you in my life.
If the engagement’s true, congratulations. Being married to the man you love more than life is a blessing that I’ve had in my life now for a few years.

My response that I'm NOT proud of...but made me feel A LOT better at the time:

"Ummm…yes, it is simple. You commented on my blog, deleted it and I was just responding to your comment.
No need to be passive aggressive..lol.
I wouldn’t make up being engaged…only a sad person would do that, wouldn’t you agree?
I will not email you again..I can assure you, aside from having to deal with you for DS’s sake, I want nothing to do with you either.
Oh, and I’m really glad you and <Ex's name> are happy…it has always been clear that the two of you deserve each other. Here’s to true love!”.

The bit about the making up being engaged is because many years ago, before she married my ex, she posted on Myspace that they had gotten married...months before they actually tied the knot. Her comment that if my engagement was true really rubbed me the wrong way.

I hate drama. And I really hate being hated. But I guess I just have to suck it up. It is not my fault that she married my ex and has to deal with my son. And unfortunately, because I'm his mother, she has to deal with me too, especially when she's the one who is typically sent to pick up and drop off my son on the weekends he's with them. Lol..it was very "chilly" at the drop off point this weekend. Part of me wanted to shove my ring in her face and say, "See???"...but THAT would be juvenile...and after I calmed down, I decided that her opinion of me doesn't matter.

Yes friends, I know that my last response to her was snarky. I think I wasn't expecting her email to be so cold...but you live and learn, right?

If you are interested in the link for my wedding blog and aren't on my adoptee FB page, email me at opphiejane at gmail dot com and I'll hook you up! (Get it, I like to crochet and I'll "hook" you up???) No? Lol.

Oh Dear

2011-12-28T18:10:00.000-05:00

I'm afraid that you all are going to come along with me for the ride in regards to this wedding. After the shock has slowly worn off (!!!!!!!!!), I've started to look at websites for dress ideas and am looking into making my wedding favors myself. Thankfully, I'm pretty crafty (and modest) as are my friends who are all on board with helping me plan this event.

My friends at work are ecstatic and are sending me links to honeymoon sites. Hahahahaha...

Adoption related anxieties are starting already though. This would be a lot easier if I didn't have my adoptive family and natural family to plan around. I mean I KNOW that it's "my day"...and that S and I ultimately make the decisions about who to invite and how the day will go...but how the hell do I incorporate both mothers in my ceremony without hurt feelings on one side or the other. I don't want it to turn into a Us vs. Them scenario.

My adoptive sister will most likely perform the ceremony...she's a minister and has her own church, so that part is taken care of. But I don't have a father anymore. And so the problem becomes, who walks me down the aisle? If I just have my adoptive mother do it, my natural mother would be hurt (but wouldn't voice that to me...she would keep it to herself). Having my natural mother walk me down the aisle by herself is out of the question unless I want to be completely disowned by my entire adoptive family. Option # 3 is to have both mothers walk me down the aisle...which would make my natural mom happy but would piss my adoptive mother off to no end. And lastly, I could just say "Screw it, I'm walking by MYSELF".

Fuck.

People, I'm stressed already and the engagement is only five days old.

Let's get ready to rumble, my friends...bring it on.

A Christmas Miracle!

2011-12-26T08:24:00.001-05:00

Those of you on my FB now know that I had a really exciting Christmas Eve...but for those of you who aren't...here's the story.

The children were all nestled in their beds, I'd had ~~a few~~ *ahem* ~~several~~ *AHEM* lots (hiccup) of wine and had just finished the wrapping and was sitting on the couch watching the "Yule Log" channel with Steven.

Steven: Let me take a picture of you by the tree Honey....

Me: What?! No! I'm a mess!

Steven: Sigh.

A few minutes later...

Steven: There's a card for you over on the shelf behind the tree..

Me: Oh yeah? Ha..okay, okay...but NO PICTURES.

Steven: SIGH.

I wandered over to the shelf and opened the card. It was one of your standard Christmas cards...I was confused on why it was so important for me to have read it right-at-that-moment. I turned around to say thank you, and saw Steven bending down on one knee...and my heart stopped.

"Christina...will you marry me?"

Me: Yes....yes!

Dismissal

2011-12-20T13:49:00.000-05:00

I did it. I deactivated my FB profile that I’d created for the sole purpose of being in touch with my natural father. Funny, I guess I thought there’d be some sort of confetti blowing out of my monitor when I hit “Confirm” and entered in the stupid Captcha words…but there was nothing. I got nothing…I feel nothing.

I let my n-mom know that I was doing it today and she fully supports my decision. This is a little of what I wrote to her:

“What I’d like to tell him is this: Don’t tell me you want me in your life if you really don’t. Don’t say you’re so glad we’re connecting when you really aren’t. You go off and have your wonderful life with your wonderful wife and your wonderful stepdaughters and grandchildren and I’ll go off and have mine.”

I admit that I cried a little at my desk as I went through the deactivation motions…but it’s really for the best. I was torturing myself by putting up little notes on my wall, “Happy Halloween” and then “Happy Thanksgiving”…I’d be double damned if I was going to put up “Merry Fucking Christmas”, only to get silence and *crickets*.

Part of me feels like a little kid, taking her ball away and stomping off for home. Don’t want to play by my rules? Peace out.

Dear Dads

2011-12-12T10:33:00.000-05:00

Dear Adoptive Father,

You ruined me. I was an innocent child and you completely and utterly ruined my childhood. Many times I’d cry myself to sleep, trying to figure out how you could be so loving one minute and such a fucking monster the next. Did you think it was funny to lay down on the floor in front of the bathroom when I was using it, wiggling your fingers under the door pretending like you were going to come in? Yeah, not funny. My screaming for you to stop only made you antagonize me further and I’d hear you laughing as you walked away. To this day, I have to lock the door to the bathroom and turn on the overhead fan, even when I’m home alone, to drown out the memories and the screams of a little girl.

Many a Saturday morning I’d be watching cartoons while Mom and C (asister) went out shopping and you’d come in the den, stand in front of me while facing the television and pull down your pants, shaking your ass in my face. Again the screams for you to leave me alone…again the laughter.

Then there were the times you’d flip the switch and get angry. You’d turn into a monster and scream at me like Mom always did…calling me a piece of shit on more than one occasion. Telling me to stop eating because I was getting fat. Is it any wonder I ended up with an eating disorder?

Then there are the memories that are still hidden. Those nights that I’ve flashbacked to…but only just far enough to know that things had gone horribly wrong on some level and I truly wasn’t innocent any longer.

I have tried to find forgiveness in my heart for you, but all I feel is…nothing.

Dear Natural Father,

It’s been almost a year since we were reunited. The day I got a response to my letter to you was amazing. I totally believed you when you said that you couldn’t wait to share your life and family with me. Why would I have thought any different? After all, my reunion with C (natural mom) and her side of my family tree had gone swimmingly and I felt completely accepted and loved by each and everyone I’d met. You’d think I would have learned by now not to trust anyone. Shame on me.

I sent you a Father’s Day card. You responded that it was the best Father’s Day card ever. I think I had hoped that you would have realized that Father’s Day was also my birthday but was willing to let that slide. I knew you were busy taking care of your wife’s grandson because his mom was going through a hard time and I didn’t want to come off sounding bitchy, but really, I was/am hurt. I just want to be accepted.

Fast forward through June and July and C happened to ask me how things were going between us. I made excuses for you, saying that you were really busy and couldn’t really talk. In actuality, I had no idea what was going on, just that you had stopped writing. I dropped you a message on July 27, C dropped you a message a few days later and I finally got a response on August 1. Telling me that nothing was wrong, the dead air between us had nothing to do with me.

What the hell am I supposed to think now? It’s been four and a half months now with no correspondence whatsoever. I guess I was hoping you’d at least have the balls to tell me that it was too much for you, that you’d rather not have a relationship with me, now or ever.

The revengeful, bitter adoptee part of me is seriously considering closing the FB account I started specifically so we could be in touch because I’m so fucking angry.

The scared, rejected adoptee part of me is worried you wouldn’t notice.

Backlash

2011-12-10T17:36:00.000-05:00

The backlash that has been happening ever since "The Open Letter", written by my adoptee friend has been far reaching. I haven't had any negative comments on my blog about it (yet) but I'm sure that once people realize that it's there, I will. The thing is, from what I can tell, the bulk of the negativity is coming from adoptive parents who are offended that an adoptee is daring to speak directly to them about their truths and feelings.

It's sad really. One of the anonymous commenters on iadoptee's blog post highlighting the letter said that she believed that the writer of the letter was full of teenage angst and that's when I started to shake with anger. I guess I should be used to still being treated like a child when it comes to adoption...have to wait for the government to tell me that I'm allowed to have my original birth certificate after all...but to see someone take a beautiful, well thought out message and cheapen the author by dismissing their feelings as being juvenile, well, my blood boiled, put it that way.

Then came the, "well, sometimes growing up with your biological family is no picnic either..". Really? I wouldn't know that since I wasn't given the option to grow up with mine.

Why does the voice of an adoptee threaten adoptive/potential adoptive parents so much? What is the deal? Someone? Anyone? Bueller?

A Must Read

2011-12-08T18:26:00.001-05:00

One of my online adoptee friends wrote something...and I'm posting it as its own page on my blog so it gets the visibility it deserves. I hope that many of you will post it on YOUR blogs too as it contains important messages for anyone who has adopted, who want to adopt or who have ever asked yourself, "Should we adopt?".

An open letter to APs, PAPs, and anyone who has even considered adoption

(What you are about to read may shock you. It may challenge you. And, hopefully, it may inspire you to educate yourself further on the realities of adoption. Please read the following with an open mind, and try not to take anything said here personally. Because this is not meant to be an attack or a judgment; it is meant to be an honest and heartfelt expression of one adoptee's experience that would hopefully bring understanding and respect for the often ignored portion of the adoption equation.)

To all adoptive parents, hopeful adoptive parents, and anyone who has ever even considered adoption:

Being adopted hurts. Being adopted is hard. It is not beautiful; it is brutal, it is tragic, it is a cause for great sadness. For in order for a child to even be available for adoption, that child must first go through some sort of tragedy; whether that be abuse, hunger, homelessness, neglect, or even the simple fact that he or she is losing the life and family he or she was born into. This makes adoption a thing to mourn; not a cause for celebration or joy. To be joyful about adopting a child is to be glad that this tragedy happened.

I don't think there's a soul alive who would actually choose to be born into a situation where being relinquished for adoption, voluntarily or otherwise, was necessary.

Of course there will always be a need for children to be removed from their parent(s) and placed in safer, more stable, loving homes - but please understand that no matter how good and loving and wonderful the adopting parents are, nothing will ever erase the pain, the grief, and the loss that comes with being adopted.

The very foundation of adoption is that of loss - a child loses his or her mother, father, and entire family; a mother, father and family loses one of their children. And, yes, even a loss for the adopting parent - sometimes the loss of the expectation of having their own, biological offspring, the loss of a dream of having a baby of "their own." A separation of one family MUST occur before a new one can be built through adoption. Maybe it isn't a voluntary destruction, maybe the destruction is necessary for the health and safety of the child - but it is still a destruction of the very core, fundamental foundations of that child's life that will forever be altered.

Think of it this way...one of your parents dies, and your surviving parent eventually goes on to remarry. Though you might grow to love and have a great relationship with your parent's new spouse, no amount of love and happiness in this present situation will erase the grief you feel over the loss of your other parent. So please, if you have adopted or are considering adoption, keep this in mind.

Adoption should be the very last resort after all other options have been tried. Ask yourself this - does an adoption HAVE to happen? Is there anything I can possibly do to help this young mother keep her child? Are there resources I can direct her to, items I can supply her with, can I offer her the support and encouragement she needs to be a good parent? If so, then pursuing adoption is not the right choice. Too many unnecessary adoptions happen as a permanent solution to a very temporary problem. Adoption, after all, is forever - while a current living situation, job situation, etc., is temporary and can be changed and improved. Most women who relinquish their children do so because they feel they have no other choice...but what if she does have another choice, and only needs the support and encouragement to make it?

Adopted people know we are a second choice, a "Plan B," a solution to someone else's problem. While there are some people out there who would choose adoption first, most only do so after failed attempts at pregnancy or to "complete" a family of all boys or girls or to give their current child a sibling. Adding to your family through adoption should never be about meeting some need of your own...it should always and only ever be about providing for the CHILD'S needs. Please don't put the added pressure on an adopted child by forcing them to live up to the unspoken standard of the child you couldn't concieve or the son or daughter you couldn't produce. Adoption is not a cure for infertility, nor are adopted people "gifts" to be passed around in order to complete somebody else's life. We are human beings in our own right, with our own feelings, needs, and wants. Don't add to an already painful situation by expecting us to be something we weren't born to be.

Please be willing to be completely open and honest with the child you may someday adopt. It doesn't matter how horrible of a situation they came out of; tell them the truth, and tell them early. For the truth can be dealt with, it can be processed and closure can be found; but nobody can get closure from fantasies and daydreams. Adopted people are stronger than you give them credit for; believe me when I say, we imagine and prepare for every possible scenario when it comes to our families or origin. Don't think we haven't entertained the idea that our biological parents were the worst of the worst, or idealized them as some sort of saintly creatures, and everything in between. We have already survived the loss of our original families; don't for one minute think we can't survive knowing the reason why. And on that note, if an adopted person ever chooses to search, reunite, or just know more about their family of origin, don't guilt them into not doing it or make them feel beholden to you. It has NOTHING to do with you. NOTHING. Human beings are born with an innate curiosity about who and where we come from. For some adopted people to feel whole, they need to know their own personal history and explore their roots. There's nothing wrong with that. After all, you, as the parent, are responsible for your adopted child's happiness and well being...not the other way around. Swallow your pride, put away your jealousy, and support your adopted child in any quest for truth they may wish to undertake. Believe me, they will thank you for it.

Don't fall into the terminology trap. Adoptees know they have more than one set of parents...two that created them, and the parent(s) who are raising them. ALL are real to the adoptee. Don't get caught up in who is "real" and who is more important; let your adopted child choose the terminology that suits THEM. If you have been a good and loving parent, that's all you need. Besides, a parent can love more than one child, so why can't a child be allowed to love more than one parent? The heart has an infinite capability to love. Don't begrudge your adopted child the possibility of loving people he or she may not even remember.

And don't disparage the biological parents or family either. They may be evil people, the scum of the earth...but to say anything bad about the biological family is the same as saying something bad about your adopted child. The child did come from these people, after all; and better or worse we did inherit parts of ourselves from them. The old saying applies here more than anywhere else...if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.

Adopted people experience a range of issues from having been adopted...many suffer from the fear of rejection and abaondonment, have problems trusting others and forming relationships. After all, our very mothers could walk away from us, so what's to stop anyone else? Though not all adoptees experience these, many do, and to varying degrees. Just because the adopted person in your life hasn't mentioned it, don't think they don't feel it. Many will never, ever talk about their negative adoption issues for those exact reasons...fear of rejection, fear of abandonment, and just the overwhelmingly negative response they expect. If the adopted person in your life (your child, a friend or other family member) ever does talk about it, take your personal feelings and judgments out of it. Resist the temptation to say things like, "But you had such wonderful [adoptive] parents!" or "but you could have been aborted/thrown in a dumpster/etc.!" Adoptees are the only subset of society who are wholly expected to be grateful for our very lives, and with this expectation comes the need to try to suppress any negative emotion or feeling. Most adoptees won't even admit to themselves, let alone other people, that they are hurting. After all, we got this "better life," didn't we? We don't have the RIGHT to feel sad/angry/depressed. So many adoptees choose to stay silent and instead live a lie.

And, yes, that goes hand-in-hand with the child-parent relationship thing...remember, the PARENT is repsonsible for the health and well being of the CHILD, NOT the other way around. Only in adoption are adoptees somehow expected to always be careful not to "hurt" their adoptive parents; not to rock the boat or bring up something about their adoption because their PARENTS might not like it. This is another reason so many adopted people don't speak about adoption...we are afraid of hurting our adoptive parents. I know that as a parent myself, I would never expect my children to be responsible for my well-being...so please, don't ever place that expectation on adopted people either. After all, their adoptive parents WANTED to adopt, they WANTED a child, and chose this path for themselves. The adoptee most often did not choose it and had no say in the matter. Don't expect gratitude. ANYONE could have been aborted, could have been abandoned, could have been abused. These are not phenomena that are solely related to adoptees. Just because a person was adopted doesn't automatically mean they were unwanted, that they "could have been" anything...they are just people who are being raised by a different family and are living a DIFFERENT life, not necessarily a better one.

Please, if you are considering adoption or have already, educate yourself. Read books such as the Primal Wound. Read blogs by adopted people and relinquishing parents. Go into it with an open mind and open heart. Understand that there is the very real potential that the child you someday adopt might just struggle with it. And while you can be a terrific parent, a wonderful guide and mentor, the damage has already been done. Be prepared to do the hard work of helping your child deal with any grief, anger, and other issues he/she may feel. TALK to them about it. Adoptees are notorious for keeping things bottled up...let them know it's OK to talk with you about them. Reassure them that you will NOT be hurt, offended or damaged by their feelings. ALLOW them the freedom to feel whatever they feel.

If you are considering an open adoption or have entered into an open adoption, HONOR that. Unless there is some clear and present danger to the life of your child, KEEP THE COMMUNICATION OPEN. Don't cease contact with the biological family because it's an inconvenience for YOU. Understand that yes, at times it might be emotionally trying for your adopted child, your child may come away from visits or reading letters and feel depressed and angry, but don't take that as a reason to cease contact. TALK to your child. Help them understand WHY they are feeling this way. It's only natural that this might happen; and in the same breath, the biological mother/father/family may also feel overwhelmed at times and pull back, but do what you can to keep the lines of communication open. Remember, adoption is based on loss, and being reminded of that loss can be overwhelming. But that doesn't mean it should be avoided. Your adopted child will thank you someday for sacrificing your own happiness and comfort to allow him/her to keep this very important connection.

Try not to make a big celebration out of your child's adoption day (and PLEASE don't EVER use the horribly offensive and insensitive term "Gotcha Day). The same goes for birthdays. For while it may be a happy occasion to remember, keep in mind that it also marks the day that the adopted person was permanently and forever separated from their mother, their father, their original family. Birthdays are especially hard; for most adoptees have the knowldedge that our births were not cause for celebration; nobody was bringing our mothers flowers and balloons and offering congratulations; our entrance into this world was one of sadness and trepidation. And it marks the day we were phyisically separated from our mothers; for many of us, it was the last time we ever saw her. So if the adoptee in your life withdraws around his or her birthday or doesn't appear to like celebrating, respect that. Understand that to many of us, it is not a cause for celebration.

I am not trying to tell anyone not to adopt. I am not saying, "shame on you" to anyone who already has adopted. What I am saying is, please step back and really think long and hard about the ramifications of adoption on the very person who is at the center of it all - the child you hope for or the child you have brought into your home. Be ready and willing to put a lot of hard work into helping this adopted child heal, to feel whole and complete in themselves. Be prepared to put your own needs and wants on the shelf and to put away your expectations, do what it takes to attend to the needs of your adopted child. All the love in the world, all the toys and gadgets and material things you might provide will never replace or erase what was lost.

Family preservation should always be the goal. Adoption should never, ever be utilized unless it is the last and only option left. Because adoption should be about finding homes for children in need; NOT finding children for people to fill a need. Jesus commanded us to help the orphan AND the widow...we as a society should do more to help famlies stay together instead of tearing them apart. Nobody really wants to be adopted...if given a choice, they'd rather their family situations could improve so that they wouldn't have to be separated. Would YOU have liked it if your mother gave you away?

Signed,
An Adult Adoptee

The page is at the top of my blog, "An Open Letter".

Five: Holy Crap, Really? Updated

2011-12-07T22:11:00.003-05:00

The blog that I'm highlighting tonight was shared with me via email and I have to tell you, I've been thinking about what I wanted to write all day. I'll probably keep it short and sweet since I'm trying to ease myself back into the blogging swing of things but jeebus, I'm flabbergasted by this woman's reasoning.

The blogger apparently got a couple questions passed on to her by one of her online friends...so far so good.right? The first question was innocuous enough...what has she been up to? Nothing miraculously interesting so let's move on to the next question.

"A new blog friend (Hi, Ruth!) read about our youngest girls' names & wondered about K'Tyo's name...where it comes from, how you say it, & what it means. I couldn't believe I had never blogged about it, but looking back, I can't find a post about it anywhere! I am blaming jet lag after we came home with him for my oversight. :o)"

Here's her response and where I realized things were seriously messed up:

"K'Tyo's name is pronounced /k/ tie-yo. Honestly, we weren't sure what we were doing about his name before leaving for Ethiopia. For us, it was hard because he was 4 years old at the time, & obviously had quite the personality."

Holy crap, really? Ummm, not only did he have a personality, HE HAD A NAME.

"All of our children's names begin with a "K", so we wanted to incorporate that somehow (how we got going on K's is still a mystery). His Ethiopian name is Sintayehu, which means "much I have seen" (pretty intense, huh?). We love it's significant meaning, but knew in America it would be butchered."

Holy crap, really? So, even though the name he had since birth had significant meaning, you figured, we'll completely change it and stick a "K" in front so he matches the rest of our brood?

Ugh. Just...yuck.

UPDATE:

The blog author has written another post, "Why Do I Blog?" in response to my comment on her blog, expressing my disgust at another comment someone had posted and at her post in general.

I'm saving my opinions to myself because I'm in an odd place tonight and my thoughts are a bit scattered. Read her post for yourself and tell me what you think.

Who's Got The Power?

2011-11-01T16:06:00.000-04:00

When last you saw your favorite (*ahem*) blogger, she was upset about the fact that her natural father had bailed on her. Well, then her world turned topsy turvy again when she received an early trick for Halloween. A FREAKING FOOT OF SNOW AND NO POWER SINCE SATURDAY AT 6:30PM.

Phew. THAT felt nice to just write it down. What the fuck, ladies and gentlemen, WHAT.THE.FUCK.

I was doing okay…really, I was fine. Until I left the comfort (*snort*) of my 54 degree dark-as-a-damn-cave house this morning to find my car’s windshields and windows covered by Sunoco bumper stickers. You see, even though my town had postponed Halloween until this Thursday, a group of teenagers had come around in the middle of the night onto our street and decided my beautiful Jeep would “make a great place for a Stick-up”. The straw that broke the camel’s back, my friends. I was leaving the house early to get to the gym at work so I’d be able to take a hot shower and instead, found myself in the driveway pulling stupid stickers off my car. Seriously???

::grumble grumble:: Take your stickers and shove them up your asses.

And so, in all the hustle and bustle of the past few days, I’d almost allowed myself to forget that it’s November. You know what that means, don't you? Yupper...National Adoption Month (NAM). Almost forgot that it’s time to learn all about how wonderful adoption is…read about this adoptive parent or that adoptive parent patting themselves on the back for “saving” a child from a horrible fate.

Not in the mood for rainbows and unicorn farts this month…just saying. Ya’ll better watch out…Christina’s on a rampage

Dear Mother Nature...

2011-10-29T17:19:00.002-04:00

What the fuck. I'm in the 10 inches area...which has now been upped to 12 inches in the past hour. Just hoping we don't lose power, but with the leaves still on the trees, soon to be laden down by mudlike heavy snow, it's a safe bet we're in for a long night.

http://www1.whdh.com/video/player?autoStart=true&topVideoCatNo=default&clipId=6399234

Clarification

2011-10-28T11:55:00.000-04:00

I realized after reading my last blog post that people may have gotten the wrong impression. I’ve not broken up from my boyfriend. We’re still together…still in love.

No. I meant that my natural father has apparently decided that a relationship with me is too much for him. That’s my assumption anyway…haven’t heard a thing from him since his last email in August and before that, I’d gotten a quick thank you after I’d sent him the Father’s Day card (coincidentally, Father’s Day fell on my birthday this year and I never got a “Hey, Happy Birthday” message or anything.

It would have been a year that we were in reunion as of Christmas Eve. Now, I have to live with the knowledge that I won’t ever truly get to know him. I’m sad right now…and possibly still in denial that he could tell me that he was excited to get to know me and my children in one breath, and in the next, I get nothing.

I should have known though…and I’m kicking myself in the ass right now for ever thinking that my reunion with him would be anything like the one I’m in with my natural mom and her side of my family orchard (definitely don’t just have a family tree). After all, my mom sought ME out…and with my father, I found him and contacted him.

From what my mom has said, in her conversations/emails with him, he hasn’t told his sons about me. Apparently his relationships with them aren’t the greatest and he is worried about how they’d react. I get that..really…I do…but that doesn’t lessen the pain and the heartache of once again being a dirty little secret.

God, I feel like such an adopted bastard today.

Leaving Him In The Dust

2011-10-25T09:23:00.001-04:00

When I was younger and I was dumped by a boyfriend (or two…or three) or left in the dust by this friend or that friend, I’d wallow in self pity for months. I’d lose weight rapidly because of the stress and anguish and then get right back up on the proverbial horse and ride off into the sunset of singlehood, always searching for another Prince Charming to sweep me off my feet.

It’s different this time. Much different. This breakup is affecting me in ways I haven’t even begun to realize. Our relationship started off well…long emails of getting to know you’s…learning more about each other’s lives. Realizing that we loved each other and saying it out loud.

I’m 99.99% positive it’s over now. While I still love him…it can never be the same. We’ve come to a crossroads and I’m taking a different path than the one I’d hoped we’d travel together for the rest of our lives.

I’m devastated though. I’m not going to search for anyone else to share my hopes and dreams with, nor will I continue to pray that he comes around to my way of thinking…I can’t do that to myself. He deserves to live his life the way he needs to, and it’s become clear that I’m just not part of his grand plan.

I guess that’s why I’ve been very quiet on my blog lately. I’ve been avoiding discussing this part of my life because it hurts too much. I’m keeping myself busy though. The kids are on the go..getting involved with afterschool activities and having friends over to hang out. I’m working full time and in my down time I’m making holiday gifts for my friends and family. Thinking of starting up an Etsy shop soon once I get a good handle on my crochet hook again…several of my friends are on there and have had great success. Plus, I’ve been dealing with the same old issues related to my ex and his wife. I tried to be Ms. Nice Mom and ignore the $5,500 in past due child support…tried not to be snarky when I’m told by my ex that he is working and can’t get our son on the day he’s supposed to (if he’s working, I’d love to know where the hell the support is, but whatever..lol)..tried to be as tactful as possible when discussing the cat hair debacle (that went over like a fart in church). Just a lot on my plate. So dealing with this “breakup” is taking the back burner because if I sat down and really thought about it, I’d go over the edge.

I’ll miss him…but I keep telling myself it’s for the best.

I’m trying to dig out from this funk…and it’ll help to write about it, especially given the circumstances of this “dumping”.

Connections

2011-10-05T21:55:00.000-04:00

I went out to dinner tonight with my friend Brian's sister, L (I won't use her first name here since she actually has the link to this blog and I haven't asked permission to use her name yet). It was amazing...and it was the best dinner out I've had in a long time. We talked about Brian, and her daughter and my kids...and we vented about our crazy mothers..lol..yup, she's got one too.

It felt good to talk and to laugh and to listen...and to realize that sometimes out of tragedy, good things can happen. I've found a new friend.

We were just talking about that on FBook..how odd it is that we have so much in common. I remember L from our school bus riding days...but we never spoke back then. I only knew her as Brian's little sister, not as a "real person", and she knew me as the quiet girl on the bus. Now though, she's real, and I'm not as quiet and we're becoming friends. Truthfully, I'm not great at picking friends...usually I pick wrong and am hurt in the end, but I can honestly say, I think this time, my "Friend Picker" finally fixed the glitches and I'm on the right track.

Friends

2011-09-30T19:52:00.001-04:00

The service for my friend Brian was beautiful. It was held at the mountain in the next town over from where we grew up. They had a huge tent set up at the base of the mountain and it was standing room only. Saw many of my teachers from high school and even elementary school...and many friends and classmates. He left quite a mark on the world...one that won't soon be erased.

I'd gone to the celebration of Brian's life with my friends, Tracy and Tiffany. We were talking about how our group of friends was such a ragtag bunch. Tiffany said that she'd been thinking about it and realized that what bonded us together was the fact that most of our parents were highly dysfunctional..lol. Tracy's mom died when we were 15 from cancer she'd had for several years and her dad had remarried within a year to a woman that was really difficult. Tiffany's dad was an alcoholic and her mother was in denial. Our friend Shannen's dad was a state cop and was very strict...heaven help us if we beeped our car horns in the driveway for Shannen...oy. My parents...well, you all know my story. And nearly all of our other friends had issues at home as well.

I think Tiff was right. But even with our individual issues, we were a tight group..fiercely loyal...and to lose one of the gang just feels wrong.

Time for wine.

Totally Gutted Tonight

2011-09-25T20:40:00.000-04:00

I promise that after this week is over, I'll try and get back to your regularly scheduled postings here...but for now, you're stuck with "Melancholy Girl".

Got an email from my n-mom tonight. She wanted to know if I thought I'd be able to drive down to Delaware on Wednesday til "I don't know when". She said, no pressure...she knows it's short notice. I wrote back, my anxiety level rising, and asked her when the funeral services were...and she replied, "Thursday". My grandfather's wife, a real doozy and a half, decided to give the family four days to make travel arrangements to make it down to Delaware. We have family all over the country and it's ridiculous for her to have planned this all so quickly.

So, I can't go. I want to go...I need to go...but because of my fucking job, I can't go. It's worse for my n-mom and n-sister because they are going to the wake and funeral of the baby tomorrow and Tuesday (again, I can't fucking go to those because of work) and then have to drive eight hours to get to Delaware.

FUCK. Yes, I'm swearing a lot tonight. I don't fucking care.

The Cruelest Month

2011-09-23T20:55:00.001-04:00

**This post may possibly be triggering re: infant death

Brian went first in early September. A horrible car accident. Gone in an instant.

And then just two days ago, a tiny baby...the grandson of my n-mom's best friend (who was there when C went into labor with me so many years ago) slipped from his parents' arms into the arms of the angels.

That one hit me hard because I remember going through my own miscarriage and understanding the deep pain that his mother and father are feeling.

And then tonight...as I drove home through the driving rain, my phone rang. It was my n-sister. My grandfather passed away this afternoon, right before she called me. I was driving on a highway so I couldn't pull over...had to just keep driving...so I could make it to the gas station parking lot and lose my shit. And I did...lose my shit I mean.

This is a picture of the family as we gathered in Delaware to celebrate his 80th birthday in 2009 that first weekend together...

My grandfather's first words to me when I met him were: "You're so pretty..." as he held my hands.

I just saw him in May...and I knew it would be the last time I did. I'm in a deep state of grieving right now and am not really sure what to do with myself.

March...July...September...December

2011-09-20T20:44:00.000-04:00

The four months in the title are the worst months of the year for me. Not because of any adoption crap..but because they are the last months of the four Quarters that make up my job.

We're in crunch time at work...and I am sick and tired of feeling stressed and anxious, worrying about making my goals. I'm seriously done with being a Credit and Collections analyst. It's no fun...at all. I shouldn't dread walking in the door, wondering who's going to pay their damn five million dollar bill.

The thing is, I don't want to go back to my old standby of being a retail whore (no offense to any retail whores out there)...I'm just not nice enough to smile nine hours straight when really, I'd rather not be bagging up your shit and working holidays just to pay the bills. I did that for too long and it sucked.

So what do I do? I have to pay the bills...and while my job isn't fun, it DOES pay the bills and I can take care of my kids...with some help from my daughter's dad and my boyfriend..and to a very, very, very, very small extent, my son's father. (Was that too snarky? Sorry, his child support is pretty much nonexistent these days and I'm really sick of the crap.) I want to do something worthwhile with my life while still being able to live.

Frig.My.Life.

Four: Holy Crap, Really?

2011-09-15T18:52:00.000-04:00

Background on the blog author: Married..has five children entrusted to her care. Three biological, two adopted from Ethiopia. Large following on her blog...most comments on her posts are full of "Oh, you're so awesome..." and "Oh, I feel the EXACT same way..". What's scary is that the commenters probably DO feel the exact same way as this author.

~~~~~~~~~~

I'm really, really glad all my kids are back in school.

There. I said it. The three children that I birthed and nursed and raised from scratch, and the two children we begged and cried and screeched for and fetched from Africa...all five of these kids are in school. And I am happy, so happy, happy, happy, happy, hip-hip-hooray Mary Poppins happy.

Holy crap, really? Fetched??? Like a dog fetches a bone or a ball??? I can't fault her for being glad her kids are in school...but honestly, I was annoyed with this post the minute I read that.

~~~~~~~~~~

She then has pictures of the children she "fetched" from Ethiopia at the airport on the day they landed.

Underneath the photo of the girl, she captions it with this:

"I am crying with joy. R is ready to sprint like FloJo from the screaming white people."

Holy crap, really? First of all, why do some adoptive parents do that? Why subject a child who has just flown across the world, taken from all that they've ever known..everything familar..to a loud crowd of Rah Rah cheerleaders with signs and balloons at the airport? Wouldn't it make more sense, if you're going to take a child from his/her country of origin, their home, and bring them to a strange place to keep things quiet so they have a chance to adjust?

~~~~~~~~~~

Another picture, captioned:

"Insert audio of yelling and cheering. GAH, why was she so clingy?"

Holy crap, really?!? Is she really that ignorant that she could even say that?

~~~~~~~~~~

And then, surprise surprise, she laments about the end of the honeymoon period with the girl:

R gave us about 12 hours of honeymooning until her terror burst onto the scene. Sometimes her fear is so palpable, it literally takes my breath away. New places: terror. New faces: total insecurity. Transitions: help us, Jesus. She has asked us every single day since July 22nd if she is going back to Ethiopia. Every. Single. Day. When I discovered cashews to be a winning legume for her impossible palate, I told her:

"Yay! Good job! Cashews are good for you and will help you grow big and strong!"
"Big? Ah-Rrrremy? Big? Cashews?"
"Yes!"
She pushes them away and starts crying.
Once again, I am bewildered and befuddled.
"No! No Ah-Rrremy grow big! Me big, then go back to Ethiopia! No! Dis is no!"

Holy crap, really? My heart weeps for this poor little girl.

~~~~~~~~~~

And then we find out how she really feels:

"Actually, I haven't had a shower in three days, I lost my temper with my uncontrollable daughter this morning and had to walk outside, I'm constantly cleaning up pee because uncircumcised tee-tee goes sideways onto walls, and sometimes when my two littles are asleep and we're downstairs with the original three kids who are so stable and healthy and easy, it creates a nostalgia so intense, I think I might perish. But enough about me. How are you?"

Holy crap, really? Nice...refer to your biological kids as the "originals"...and excuse me if I don't feel bad that she's dealing with an uncontrollable daughter and not a stable, healthy and easy adoptee. It's just so sad.

Beautiful Mourning

2011-09-12T08:41:00.000-04:00

Eight years ago today I had just dropped off Chase with my ex. Drove through Dunkin Donuts and went to Barnes and Nobles to wait for them to open. It was a beautiful pre-Autumn day and I’d decided to hang out in one of the store’s big comfy chairs before going next door to the office supply store where I was working at the time. I didn’t have to be at work until noon so I had tons of time to relax and prepare myself for the day.

The time passed quickly though and I got my stuff together and at 11:30am headed out onto the sidewalk to go to work. My coworker came out of our store and said, “There you are…we saw your car but didn’t know where you were…you need…” I interrupted him…”Sorry…did you need me to start early?” He had an odd expression on his face. “No…Christina you need to call home.”

Okay..weird, but okay. I got into the building, put my stuff away and called my mother’s apartment. I was staying with her at the time with the kids, trying to get my feet back under me after my breakup from my ex. No answer. Hmmmm. Tried calling my sister’s house. No answer. Mom’s cell phone. No answer. I walked up to the front desk and dialed my father’s apartment. No answer but I left a message. “Hi…work just told me to call home but I can’t get ahold of Mom…can you call me back?”. As I hung up the phone, I looked up at another coworker, Eric, who was watching me intently. He quickly looked away and I started to get cold and hot. What was I missing here?

I went back to the Copy Center and decided to call my grandfather’s number. He lived in the same building as my father so I figured that if something was going on, he might have talked to my mother, or my mother might even be there.

“Hello?”

“Hi Bumpa! I just got to work and they said I needed to call home but I can’t get ahold of Mom or Cindy…have you talked to them?”

“Chrissy? Have you heard about Curt (my father)?”

“No…Bumpa, what’s going on??” (In hindsight, I should NOT have asked him that question)

“He passed away this morning…”

“Oh my God…What??? I’m on my way.” I dropped the receiver back down on the hook and realized that Carlos was standing next to me. He pulled me up into a hug and said, “Come on Christina..we’re going up front.” Then he used his walkie-talkie and said, “Linda and Maria, Christina knows. Can you meet us up front?”.

Someone grabbed my purse and keys and brought them to me in the manager’s office. Things get hazy after this point but Linda, one of the supervisors, drove me to my father’s apartment building.

As we drove into the complex, I saw a police car parked in one of the spaces. Then I saw my sister’s car. I wanted to tell Linda to turn around…to not leave me there…but instead, she got out of the car, gave me a hug and told me not to worry about work…to just keep them posted on anything that I needed.

She drove away and I walked to my grandfather’s apartment. They must have seen me coming from the window because the door opened before I had a chance to knock. My sister was standing there, clearly had been crying. My mother, Maddie and my nephew were all in the room talking to Bumpa.

They told me that it was a heart attack. A massive heart attack that had killed him. After a few minutes, my mother asked me if I wanted to go see him. My entire body wanted to scream…”NO!”. Instead, I nodded my head. There was a police officer standing outside his apartment…he tipped his head at us when we walked up to him. He opened the door and I saw him, sitting up in his rocking chair. There was another cop in the room and he moved off to another area so we could have some privacy.

He was clearly gone. And had been gone for several hours. I had never seen a dead body…well, let me clarify that. I’d never seen a dead body that wasn’t in an open casket. For weeks afterwards, I’d see him sitting there..the grayness..the mottled skin…the death.

Today is difficult. I’m torn. He was abusive. He was short tempered. He was a man whose moods could flip at the drop of a hat. But he was the only father I knew growing up and while I’m incredibly angry at him for what he did and for how he was…it’s difficult. I cannot forgive yet…but I still grieve.

Remembering

2011-09-11T08:59:00.000-04:00

I'm writing this just as they begin the first moment of silence, marking the exact second American Flight 11 crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center.

Watching the televised memorial ceremonies...the replays of the coverage from that fateful day in 2001...brings me back to the feelings of shock and dismay that I felt upon watching the second plane fly into the South Tower...knowing that while one plane could have been an accident, two planes had to be the work of terrorists.

I will never forget the men, women and children who perished that day...I will never forget their sacrifice.

Resting In Pieces

2011-09-06T10:22:00.000-04:00

The stress of the past few days has finally caught up with me. I am in the beginning stages of a horrible head cold. Never fails that if I’m dealing with a lot, I get sick.

It started Friday with my blowout with K, my ex’s wife. Admittedly, not my finest moment.

Saturday was actually wonderful…went out with Steven for our 8^th anniversary to a really nice restaurant. But that was kind of stressful too because even though I told myself I was being an idiot, I had hoped that it would have been “THE” night for a proposal. No go. But it was amazing to reconnect as a couple and the food was yumtastic. I’ve had people tell me that maybe I need to propose to him…but that’s just not how I envision things to go. And so, I wait. Usually patiently, but sometimes, not so much.

Sunday was laid back…spent a couple hours with Maddie at my mom’s pool then watched a movie with Steven.

Yesterday, I picked up Chase from K again and aside from me asking her how things went with a response of “Fine” and a side of her infamous stink eye on the side, I was outta there. Got home and was reading FBook and almost threw up. One of my good friends from Kindergarten through high school died in a car accident while on vacation in Germany. He was the first friend from school to die and I’m not quite sure how to handle it.

Makes your own mortality come zooming to the forefront of your mind.

I immediately called two other friends that I’ve stayed in contact with since school and had to deliver the news to them because I didn’t want them to see it on FBook first. What comforted me was telling them both at the end of the calls that I love them…and hearing them say it in return. We may not be invincible beings, but we are human beings and feeling love was something I really needed last night.

And so, to Brian, rest in peace my friend. You were an amazing person and I will never forget you. We spent many a car ride home from school and Peer Leadership meetings blasting the radio, singing along to Elton John and Neil Diamond at the top of our lungs. You were the person who coined my nickname “Steener”, said in the funny voice of our Physics teacher. You were the one who helped me pass Geometry in our sophmore year. You were the one who was unafraid to get up in front of the entire school and lip sync to Copacabana, dressed like Barry Manilow. You were brilliant in life..and you are brilliant in death.

Calm, Cool and Cat Hair Free

2011-09-03T07:59:00.001-04:00

I've had the night to think about the events of the past week and have decided that since what I set out to do was ultimately accomplished, I need to move on and stop getting myself worked up about the situation. Because of that, I've edited the two posts I had written about the cat hair debacle and saved them as drafts.

What I *should* have done yesterday instead of letting myself get goaded into a fight was to just say, "There are Chase's clothes...Here is a box he can use for his clothes while he's at your house...if B needs to speak to me, he can call or email." And just gotten in my car and left. THAT would have been the "bigger person" thing to do.

Instead I found myself getting defensive for not wanting my son to bring cat hair home after a weekend at his father's house.

::thud::

Back to your regularly scheduled Christina very soon...promise..lol.

First Day of School Daze

2011-08-31T20:30:00.000-04:00

On The Brink

2011-08-30T21:04:00.000-04:00

My girl's going to be in sixth grade tomorrow. Middle school.

Let's just sit with that one for a few moments, shall we?

.....

.....

.....

Sorry, I had to breathe into a paper bag...was hyperventilating there for a second.

When I went to middle school, I had to wear my sister's hand me downs (not that there is anything wrong with hand me downs, but when your sister had to wear "the wrong" kind of clothes, and you get to wear them four years later, things are bound to start off badly. I also still had my ugly ass glasses...and the lamest haircut known to man, woman, child and poodle. Sigh.

I think back to those horrible years and then I look at Madelyn with her long, brown hair, face full of cute freckles, eyelashes that which even Snufflelupagus would be jealous...and I'm happy. But what's even better? She's happy. She's everything that I wanted to be...and that means the world.

Does that make me sound shallow? I don't mean to sound that way. I just mean that I always wanted to be one of the "cool kids"..and I don't mean one of the cheerleaders or jocks...I mean that I wanted to be confident. I wasn't...Madelyn is. It's pretty awesome to watch her grow.

My a-mother called me on the way home from work...this is how THAT went:

Me: Hello?

AMom: Hi! Just calling to see what time the kids are getting on the buses tomorrow?

Me: Well, Maddie catches the bus at 6:50 and Chase's bus comes at 8:10.

AMom: Wow, Maddie has to leave early, huh? Well, do you mind if I come over and take pictures of them getting on the bus?

Me: (short pause) Ummmm, so, I don't think Chase would mind if you took a picture of him getting on the bus but I doubt Maddie is going to want us to snap a photo of her leaving for middle school..(nervous laugh).

AMom: (long pause) Oh...OH..right! Well, how about I come earlier and we can take some pictures in the driveway?

Me: (huge sigh of relief) Sounds good..we can have coffee after Maddie leaves, while we wait for Chase's bus.

AMom: Great! See you then!

Dodged THAT bullet. Sheesh.

And yes, I'll post the pictures tomorrow for you all. *wink*

Three: Holy Crap, Really?

2011-08-29T18:54:00.005-04:00

This.is.horrifying. (And now the icon actually links to the site..sigh...I'm technically challenged).

The author of the post is an adoptive mother..of a girl from Guatemala.

Let's break the post down, shall we?

"Earlier this month, a family’s world was destroyed. A Liberty, MO family received notification that a

Guatemalan judge had ordered the return of their seven-year-old adopted daughter.
This story caught my eye because I have a six-year-old Guatemalan daughter, and Liberty is only 40 miles away from where I live. So, it was hitting rather close to home. When I first read about the case, my heart went out to the family. For five years, they have loved a little girl they had adopted. I am sure they had official paperwork, and had jumped through all the hoops required in an international adoption. They hadn’t done anything wrong."

Holy crap, really? First of all, a family was destroyed the instant that the little girl was taken from her mother's arms. For five years, the family from Liberty, MO was taking care of a kidnapped child. Not a child that had been put up for adoption...a child who was kidnapped. Admittedly, to some of the adoption community, the lines between adoption and kidnapping are blurry anyway but this seems pretty clear cut. And how the hell can the family have "official paperwork"? It's paperwork based on lies and omissions...and it's pretty sick to support the hoops that were required in this case...since they were lies too.

But, a judge 1700 miles away ruled differently. According to CNN International, the little girl was walking home with her mother when she was snatched and disappeared into a taxicab. The mother exhausted every effort to find her child, ending in the review of 2000 international adoption case files. Once she found her daughter, DNA tests confirmed the little girl in Missouri was hers. And she wants her back.

Holy crap, really? "And she wants her back." Yeah, annnnnd? If my child was snatched from my grasp and given away by kidnappers I'd want her back too.

After reading stories about Baby Richard and birth mothers changing their minds and wanting their children back, my husband and I decided to adopt internationally. We assumed that once the adoptions were final…they were final, and we needn’t worry that one day, someone would come back and demand the return of our daughters.
When I read about the family in Liberty, I had a disconnected feeling about the case. It was happening to someone else and it had no effect on me personally. But, then I thought…wait…I have a Guatemalan daughter and she is six. Could something like this happen to us?
I get sick at the thought.

Holy crap, really? You know what they say when you assume, right? How does this adoptive mother know that the girl she's raising as her own doesn't have a mother and father back in Guatemala who are weeping tonight because their daughter was taken illegally? Answer: She doesn't.

I keep wondering what is in the best interest of the little girl. I realize she was kidnapped at the age of two. But, she has been in the US for five years. She has a family that loves her. If she was returned to a birth mother she probably doesn’t remember, she would be taken away from her family, to a country where she probably doesn’t speak the language. What effect would that have on her development? On her emotional health? Would it destroy her?

Holy crap, REALLY? She had a family that loved her in Guatemala. She wasn't given the chance to grow up with her natural mother...she was KIDNAPPED. Who is anyone to say what a two year old remembers about her mother...and why does that matter at all anyway?? She was taken away from her family...taken away to a country where she didn't speak the language. I'm sure that had a huge effect on her development..both physical and emotional. I can't speak for the little girl in this case, but I can tell you that as an adoptee, the thought of anyone supporting her staying with people who had a part in taking her from her homeland destroys me and hurts my heart.

Blustery

2011-08-28T10:43:00.001-04:00

Sorry for the jumpiness of the video..I suck as a photographer..lmao.

Bands of Craptasticness

2011-08-28T08:29:00.001-04:00

Bands of heavy rain and wind, that is. We're still hanging in...although the lights just flickered so it may only be a matter of time before we lose power.

Just heard from my n-mom. A tornado touched down a few miles from my grandfather's house in Delaware last night. Thank goodness they were smart and evacuated when they were given the order. Yikes! Still waiting to hear from my n-aunts down in Corolla, NC. I hate waiting!!!

Battened Hatches

2011-08-27T17:04:00.000-04:00

She's coming...Hurricane Irene is heading up the East Coast towards Massachusetts and my front door.

This morning's weather was quiet...even sunny for awhile. The kids went outside to ride their bikes with their friends up the street, I went out and topped off my jeep's gas tank and picked up some cash from the ATM while Steven puttered around the outside of the house getting things put away.

We went out to lunch..it was cloudy but not a speck of rain yet. Fast forward to an hour later and we left the restaurant (Red Robinnnnn...YUM!) in tropical, torrential downpouring thunderstorm. Yikes. It died down as we drove north to our house but now, three hours later it's pouring again and the road outside has become a river.

We're bracing for over seven inches of rain here along with strong winds and wind gusts. Now I'm hunkered down in front of the television watching the weather updates.

My natural mother and grandfather's wife have evacuated from coastal Delaware and moved inland. I believe they've moved my grandfather to a hospice/rehab facility for the duration of the storm. My natural aunt and her partner live on the Outer Banks of North Carolina...last I heard via FB update, they were staying put but in the next breath said that the neighbor's siding had started to fall off.

Steven and I kept ourselves busy this afternoon and cleaned and organized Chase's room...it's amazing how many clothes one little boy can have but we did weed through all of it and have figured out a better, more manageable system to deal with the remaining items.

Madelyn is in her room, also cleaning and organizing. I told her that she needs to get rid of the "little girl" stuff that she's kept since she was four and start moving towards making it a room fit for a middle school tweenager. Yikes. That scares the bejeebus out of me just to say..lol.

I know this post is all fluff but I am a bit nervous about this stupid storm and just had to babble for a few. I'll try and update later tonight with our status.

Two: Holy Crap, Really?

2011-08-25T20:52:00.000-04:00

Apparently I'm back in the game folks...lol. I was going to write one HCR post a week but the blogs/sites keep falling in my lap.

I was perusing my Google Reader yesterday, right after I wrote my last post, and came across this gem.

Actually, I could just post the title of the post, "You Know You Are Ready to Start Thinking About Maybe the Possibility of Adoption When…" (Holy Crap, Really?) and leave it at that but I'll choose some of the items from the list and go from there.

You find yourself noticing families that don’t obviously match and wonder if they were created by adoption.

Holy Crap, Really? Yeah, actually I do the same thing...and then I think about the child and weep.

You make note that these families act kind of like other families.

Holy Crap, Really? Funny how necessity is the mother of invention.

You make a second note that these families, especially the parents, look happy.

Holy Crap, Really? Wait...WHAT???

When you hear of a tragedy in another country, such as the Haitian earthquake, rather than just thinking “How sad”, you think “Hey, there may be kids who need parents, and here we are parents-in-the-waiting who need kids. Humm, I wonder???”

Holy Crap, Really? YOU DON'T NEED KIDS. Period..end of story.

Just the tiniest little piece of you is more curious than afraid of the thought of adopting, while the rest of you is still terrified and feels like adoption would be giving up.

Holy Crap, Really? Wow. At least this person is honest, right?

You start to find those lists of famous adopted people fascinating http://www.creatingafamily.org/adoption-resources/famous-adoptees.html. Who knew that Steve Jobs and Faith Hill were adopted? They even seem pretty normal.

Holy Crap, Really? "They even seem pretty normal." Oh, what, as opposed to all of us angry, bitter adoptees floating around the blogosphere??

One: Holy Crap, Really?

2011-08-24T19:10:00.001-04:00

The blog that I have chosen to highlight for my first HCR post is that of a Potential Adoptive Parent.

The nursery is being painted..furniture is being bought...paperwork is being completed...the fate of seeing "their" baby's face is in the hands of another person...and if you don't watch your back, she'll call her Case Manager on you!

Holy Crap, Really?

This couple is going to be adopting from Ethiopia. Currently, they are 15 in line for a girl and 5 for a boy.

She offers up several reasons for why things might slow down for them though (I'm not quoting all of them here but you can read the post for yourself):

It is the "rainy season" in Ethiopia. This happens every fall for about two months. This season means that courts are closed, so families that have not been to court will have to wait until October when court reopens to go or be given a court date. This always causes a backlog, so the next few months will slow down. Add to that, the Ethiopian MOWA department is processing fewer cases than years before, so families are not typically passing court when they go- a specific letter has been delayed for most families so the families have to come home from the first trip and wait until they get court clearances to then be given an embassy date... this means the whole process of the two trips takes longer. So the babies that are already at Hannah's Hope will be there longer than "normal" so it means less children are coming in... does that make sense?

Holy Crap, Really? I mean, this woman is actually lamenting the fact that there will be less kids coming into the orphanage??? And damn those court backlogs too...Don't they know that nothing should keep a person from getting child? Not even the Ethiopian rainy season!!

Several orphanages closed in Ethiopia, including one that AGCI contracts with. Hannah's Hope, the transition home that our baby will come from, partners with several government orphanages including one that just shut down. These orphanage closures were for many reasons, including the Ethiopian government wanting to find an alternative solution to the orphan problem aside from international adoption.

Holy Crap, Really? Let's gloss over the fact that the Ethiopian nation probably wants to be sure that the kids they are giving away weren't actually stolen from their families, shall we? Shame on their government for wanting to get away from child trafficking, right?

Some families have been referred children that were at one of these now closed orphanages, and their cases will require more time and work- so these children won't come home on a "normal" time frame. (Please pray for these families and children!!!)

Holy Crap, Really? I mean, REALLY? I'm supposed to pray that orphanages open back up so children "come home on a 'normal' time frame"? What the hell does that even mean?

And then there is this:

We knew we had a desire to adopt, but we didn't know from where. The domestic options were much more affordable, but they tend to be much more unpredictable and sometimes a longer process. Additionally, we do not know how long we will live in North Carolina, so we didn't feel that a domestic adoption would suit our situation.

So with the decision made to go international, the options seemed to be too numerous to count. However, we quickly realized that our options were actually very small. Each country has certain criteria you must meet if you want to adopt. We realized that our age, our length of marriage, and our income limited us to only two countries: Bulgaria and Ethiopia. After conversations with our friends who have adopted from Ethiopia as well as our agency, we decided that Ethiopia was the right choice for us.

Holy Crap, Really? They aren't adopting domestically even though it's cheaper because it's a longer process...WE WANT A BABY NOW! Their options were limited though because they didn't fit certain criteria...they are young, haven't been married long enough and they don't make enough money. Excuse me if I don't have ANY sympathy for this couple.

And yes folks, they WILL be celebrating Gotcha Day..you can bet on it.

Milestones. As an adoptive parent, milestones are treated differently. You may miss significant milestones, like the first smile/craw/laugh/walk/birthday. But with adoption, you get to not only celebrate birthdays, but can also celebrate "gotcha days" when a baby finally becomes an official part of the family. With pregnancy, you get to watch the milestones from the beginning, even with the development in the womb during ultrasounds.

Slight Delay

2011-08-20T09:12:00.000-04:00

No fret my pets...the first "Holy Crap, Really?" post is brewing. Just gathering my thoughts and trying to quiet my mind a bit.

Been dealing with a lot lately...or rather, NOT dealing with a lot. After that one email from P on Facebook, he's gone silent again. His wife has been on her page, but hasn't emailed me either. I suppose I could email him again but honestly, I'm not sure I have the strength to do that yet...and not sure I really want to hear his answers.

Had to put a lot of work into my jeep lately...brake pads, rotors, new tires, replaced a lower ball joint, front end alignment...you name it, I've done it. All within the span of one month. Takes quite the chunk out of my bank account.

And yet, I still continue to pay for everything related to my son with little to no court ordered child support being collected. I'm angry. And have to try my damndest not to snap at my ex or his wife when I see them. I think I do a pretty good job with that too. I think that my ex's wife is reading my blog so if she is, sorry that you are reading about my frustration here but better here than at the drop offs/pick ups, right? ;) I've let A LOT go in regards to the situation...I've had to...but honestly, my ex isn't hurting me by not paying and not working more than a day here or a day there..he's hurting a little boy in the long run.

The money that is sent for child support doesn't go towards my needs..it's used for clothes, supplies, food, etc. for Chase. Problem is, you can't buy clothes with $0 coming in for five months. Try it sometime...see how well you do..lol.

Okay..rant over...going in to Boston's North End with Steven, his father, stepmother and niece for the day to celebrate Steven's 40th birthday. I promise to get to the HCR post tonight or tomorrow..lol...pinky swear!

Name Change

2011-08-17T10:32:00.000-04:00

I get bored easily. And so, maybe it’s a blessing in disguise that I’ve decided to table the format for the Blog O’ Shame awards. It’s forced me to step out of my boring ol’ routine and come up with a better way to get my points across.

The new and improved award will now be titled the “Holy Crap, Really?” award.

::grin::

Stay tuned...working on the first HCR post.

Speed Bump

2011-08-10T18:45:00.002-04:00

As you all remember, I was reunited with my natural father in December 2010. Things were going really well...we were all (my natural mom, dad and his wife) emailing via Facebook on a regular basis. I'd even talked to P (n-dad) on the phone right around Easter and was extremely hopeful that things were going to work out..and I'd finally have the father that I never had.

I think I jinxed myself.

The emails slowly dwindled down to nothing...especially after my n-mom went down to Delaware to care for my ailing grandfather. She still writes, calls and texts me almost daily...but P has been MIA. He emailed once to thank me profusely for the Father's Day card I'd sent...but other than that...nothing.

N-mom was back up for a visit last week and asked me how things were going. I was truthful...but also slipped back into my old ways...making excuses for him. "He's probably busy with his wife's grandkids..." and then, in a moment of self-pity, "At least I have you...it doesn't matter whether he wants to have me in my life". Yeah, I'm a liar.

She got upset...like it was somehow her fault that he'd dropped off the face of the earth and I was quick to tell her that no...it ISN'T her fault. Whatever the reason for the silence, it's not either of our faults.

Unbeknownst to me, while she was home, she emailed P...presumably on the guise of wondering how things were going for him and me.

The very next day, there was a message on Facebook from P:

hi doll, it's been too long, I know. I think whenever we get out of routine and my comfort zone I tend to withdraw and become self-absorbed. It hasn't been 'normal' here for almost 2 months, finally though, getting back to routine. I apologize for the dead air. It has nothing to do with you sweety. Anyhow, I'm trying to get back to good. I love you ♥

Still trying to believe that he's not going anywhere and that he's just busy...but something tells me, the tide is changing. I'm not sure whether I'm okay or not with that..which probably means that I haven't allowed myself to think about it too much yet.

Humbled

2011-08-09T19:37:00.001-04:00

I had no idea how people would take my last post. I had the full gamut of comments and emails thrown my way though. Whether it was understanding, sorrow, confusion or an offer to take over the Blog of Shame award segment (love you Linda)...it all was taken under advisement.

The truth of the matter is...I WANT to change PAP's/AP's minds. I WANT to be the catalyst for them to suddenly "understand" why I say what I say and believe what I believe about adoption. I cannot promise that I won't continue to swear or use language that may be harsh at times...that would be asking too much of me and would change my personality...but perhaps I can tone things down a smidge. ;) Don't worry all...I'm not getting soft in my old age...just a little more cautious.

Updated: For the short term, I've archived the old Blog of Shame posts here. You'll need a password so email me and I'll pass it on to you.

Blogs of Shame Posts

2011-08-06T08:43:00.000-04:00

You'll notice that the blog posts I'd written with the label "Blog of Shame" are gone. Or maybe you won't notice..lol..but I'm hoping you do. I believe that one of award winners has been in contact with a lawyer and that that law office has been reading the posts. For what reason? No clue. But I've chosen to take those posts and move them to a safe spot that only I have access to. Will the posts still show up on Google cache? Yes...but since they've been deleted, at least soon they won't be on the front page..lol.

I've decided to figure out a better way to get my message out there...still a work in progress. I've been thinking lately that if I want to be taken seriously as an adult adoptee, then perhaps "shaming" the PAP's and AP's isn't the best way to go about it.

I hope you all can support me in this decision...and I'm open to suggestions on how to go about revamping the posts.

Do You Believe Us Now?

2011-07-27T21:22:00.000-04:00

Trafficking Jam

This, That and The Other Thing

2011-07-18T11:14:00.000-04:00

Life’s been quiet the past few weeks. The third anniversary of my first contact with my natural mom has come and gone. She’s still in Delaware with my grandfather but might (fingers, toes, arms, legs and eyes are crossed for luck) come home for a week soon. Haven’t been talking much with my natural dad though. He and his wife were busy taking care of her grandson for awhile and then were going on vacation. Still feeling a little hurt that he didn’t remember my birthday but that’s just how it goes I guess.

Spent the weekend with my friend from work and her twin daughters, along with my two cherubs. Went to the pond near her house on Saturday…managed to avoid getting sunburned even though we ran out of sunblock after the four kids and Robin were doused in it. I was skeered there for a little bit because normally I can only be out in the sun for ten minutes before I look like a lobster..lol.

On a brighter note, it’s been five months since I’ve received any child support from Chase’s father…until last week when I finally got something. Although, if you take the $87.20 that was deposited and divide that by 5 months (roughly 20 weeks), that works out to be $4.36 a week. Whatever. No, really…whatever. I don’t bother getting upset about it anymore. It’s up to the Department of Revenue to deal with now. And from the correspondence I’ve been having with the DOR lately, things are catching up to my ex. ::shrug:: Again, whatever. If I get money for Chase, great. If not, it’s fine. I have tons of other stuff to worry about..like the fact I need more coffee..lol. I just show up for the drop offs/pick ups with a smile on my face and know that being civil to him and to his wife is the best gift I can give Chase. I do have to admit that I was snippy in an email thread my ex and I had the other day. See, he’s a SAHD to his two other daughters, younger than Chase, and was saying that he had gone on a field trip with the kindergarten to the fire department and how great it was to be able to see things like that through a child’s eyes. Now, I agree…but was feeling a bit snarky at that particular moment and retorted, “Sadly, working full time Monday through Friday doesn’t give me time to go on field trips with the kids…nice you got to go though.” Sigh. Not my finest moment but I was irritated..lol. (This was NOT a jab at any SAHParents in my viewing audience…but if you have children you need to be supporting, sitting at home and not providing is just plain wrong).

Ugh..rant over.

Storm The Castle

2011-07-07T21:14:00.004-04:00

Yesterday, after I got home from work dark storm clouds rolled into town. They danced angrily in the sky, swirling and breathing strong winds through the air. You all know the story of my issues with thunderstorms and why they bother me so much...but strangely, I didn't panic like I usually do.

Instead, I went for a drive and drove up to an apple orchard, high on a hill.

I didn't freak out people...I didn't freak out.

Ummmm...Clearly Posting Isn't THAT Hard...

2011-06-29T13:26:00.000-04:00

I received the following comment on one of my other posts:

ece99dfa-a266-11e0-8b40-000bcdca4d7a said...

Don't post this, it's on the wrong page anyway. I tried to comment on your RAD post, but it's interesting that even though your home page says you want to hear others' views, you make it quite hard to post. I have a RAD kid, and unless you have walked these steps I think you should tone down your rant against her. Her son did not ask to have RAD, but neither did she. This woman has probably endured YEARS of: abuse of her other kids, destruction of her home and her relationships, and loss of the dream for her family she once had. And I think she does still love this kid, she's just tired of it all. She has probably earned the right to vent.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011 11:46:00 AM EDT

So, first of all dear ece99dfa-a266-11e0-8b40-000bcdca4d7a (big ass eye roll), you were able to post on this entry so I'm not sure why it didn't work on the Blog of Shame post below, but we'll just chalk it up to operator error (on your part) and leave it at that. And as for not posting the comment, you already did so sorry, but I'm not deleting it. I don't delete comments...ever.

And yes, you're quite correct...the "mother" in question didn't ask for a RAD kid...but she did decide to adopt those children and for her to belittle and bemoan the situation now is just ridiculous and downright disgusting. So pardon me for having NO sympathy for the fact that she is regretting the decision. She's treating that boy badly, "RADish" or not.

Highs And Lows

2011-06-19T20:45:00.001-04:00

Today is my birthday. My adoptive mother woke me up at 7:00am to wish me a happy birthday. It was nice but I probably would have appreciated it more two hours later..lol.

And then I got a text message from my natural mom. She's far away in Delaware with my grandfather and it's hard to not be able to take off for the day to go see her.

This was the message:

I can't believe I'm so far away again on your birthday...
hoped this would never happen again. :(
I love you like crazy and miss you like crazy!!
I hope you have a wonderful birthday my dear firstborn...
sat in bed this morning and re-lived the day you were born.
(We spent the day at the beach...you didn't tan that day either).
As soon as I get home...a weekend is in order!!!
You are everything a mother could ask for and I'm blessed to have
you in my family, life and world.
Have a perfect day my perfect daughter!
Happy Birthday!
XOXO

Thankfully Steven and Maddie were still sleeping so they didn't watch me fall apart on the couch after reading the text. I sobbed and sobbed...feeling cheated out of so many years of having a mother.

And from my natural father? Nothing. Not a word on Facebook. I know that he and his wife have her four year old grandson spending time with them right now but I had kind of psyched myself up for a call or an email. But, nothing. I mailed the Father's Day card I'd bought last Thursday so he'll probably get it within a few days. I'm wondering if he'll even realize it was my birthday.

My favorite part of the day had to be watching Steven open his Father's Day gift from me and the kids. I got him a set of golf clubs...now he can actually play with the big boys instead of being a pro on Wii Golf. Technically, he's not a father...but to my daughter, he's a loving stepfather and to my son, he's his "other" dad. He's all that a father should be...and deserves all the recognition that Father's Day affords.

Thank you all for the birthday wishes here on my blog and on Facebook. I love you all for making my day special.

My First Post At Lost Daughters

2011-06-17T16:53:00.000-04:00

I have started a list in the right sidebar of my Lost Daughters posts for easy access.

I published my first post this morning, but for those of you who are lazy on this Friday afternoon and are too tired to scroll over and click in the sidebar, here's a quick link for you. ;)

The Other Side Of The Fog

The Day-That-Must-Not-Be-Named

2011-06-15T20:19:00.001-04:00

It's been almost eight years since my adoptive abuser died. Dead of a massive heart attack at the age of 68. In the years leading up to his death, we would "celebrate" Father's Day at my sister and brother-in-law's house...giving gifts to a man for whom I'd lost all respect. I never gave him mushy cards...instead I gave humorous cards...and just signed my name. I felt like a fake. But I had to grin and bear it..because it was expected. And I never went against the grain...never rocked the boat.

This year...oh, this year...it's even more complicated. I have a father again. And it's weird.

I just went out to the store a little bit ago and bought a card for him. Except I froze in the aisle. Much the way I freeze picking out a Mother's Day card for my n-mom.

"Happy Father's Day, Dad"

"I love you Daddy"

"You were the best dad while I was growing up..."

Ummmmm...fuck.

I ended up turning my back on those cards...feeling incredibly awkward. I picked out one of those sappy generic cards with a ton of writing on them.

Because I trust you all, I'm going to quote the card...it was written by Cheryl Hawkinson.

I wish you were within hugging distance.
I wish you were right here face to face,
and that we were laughing and talking
about anything and everything
that comes into our heads.
I know there are many ways
to keep in touch these days,
and I am thankful for all of them,
but what I wouldn't give
to have you
in the same room as me.

But I can still imagine it, of course,
and that's what I'm doing right now.
I'm smiling to think about
how much you mean to me,
how lucky I am
to have you in my life...
and I'm hugging you in my heart.

Are you all vomiting from the sappiness yet? What do you think?

I'm focusing on this more than I probably should...but it's keeping me from thinking about the fact that Father's Day is also the day I entered the world almost *gulp* 29 plus 8 years ago...the day I became lost.

Lost Daughters ~ Spread The Word

2011-06-13T20:30:00.000-04:00

After being away from blogging for a few (okay, many..I know, I know...naughty Christina) weeks, I came back to the Adoptee Blogosphere with a renewed passion for writing.

I count myself lucky to be part of a new blog that Amanda at The Declassified Adoptee started. It's going to be written entirely by female adoptees...and I can already feel my creative juices flowing. I just drafted up my first post and it was just so cathartic to feel a part of something...anything...again.

The blog countdown is on. Just two days off until the kickoff.

Please help spread the word about Lost Daughters!

Like A Brand New Hoover...

2011-06-10T15:39:00.003-04:00

I completely and utterly suck big dustballs.

You’ve heard all the usual excuses….work, kids, life. It’s more like avoidance, fatigue and irritation. Those are the reasons I’ve been gone so long this time. Sad that there was a “this time” again..but there it is.

Went on a road trip with my mom and sister (both of the natural persuasion...and for the purposes of this story, since I have no intention of discussing my adoptive mother on this post, I’m leaving off the “n” in front of mom and sister but they are who I’m talking about).

We drove down to Delaware to visit my grandfather…I’d mentioned him in this post. It was a bittersweet weekend. Sweet because I feel like he was really glad I’d come too. On our last sit down with him, he held my hand and my sister’s hand and just looked from me to her, smiling. At the end, we both hugged him…he said to me as I bent over him, “I’m so glad you came to see me..”.

This trip was a bit marred though at the very start. My mom and I had gone to a restaurant for dinner the night before we left for Delaware and while we waited for my sister to arrive we had a very revealing, and painful conversation.

C (mom): So, I found something out from P (natural dad) the other day.

Me (questioning look): What did he say?

C: Well, he told me why he’d broken up with me before my family moved back up North from Maryland.

Me: I thought he was cheating on you…

C: That’s what everyone else told me…but he said that the real reason is that my dad told him to. He didn’t want both me and M (mom’s sister, my aunt) to stay behind. He knew he couldn’t stop M but wanted to make sure I came back with them. He told P to break up with me and to not contact me anymore.

Me: …..Oh my God.

C: P told me that he’d never stopped loving me..that he’d imagined we’d be together forever. I keep thinking how different things would be if I’d stayed and we hadn’t broken up. (She looked at me then with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen…which is when my eyes began to well up.)

Me (after a long pause): But we wouldn’t have C and G (my sister and brother). I can’t imagine not having them in my life…and I know you can’t either.

C: I know..I just thought you should know. I love you Christina.

Me: I love you too.

My sister arrived at that moment and the tears dried up quickly but that conversation has haunted me ever since. Especially going to visit my grandfather. I know in my heart of hearts that he meant well at the time…but would he have made the same choice if he knew that C was pregnant with me?

I know it’s unhealthy to play the “What if?” game but I can’t help it this time.

I’ve missed you guys. I need you…and I need this blog. Clearly trying to work through this crap on my own isn’t doing me any good.

Good News and Horrible News

2011-04-24T18:42:00.000-04:00

Let's start with the good news, shall we?

Friday night I had written my ndad on Facebook and in the course of us "talking", he asked me for my phone number again because he'd misplaced it. No big deal, I wrote it and pressed send. Not two minutes later, I got a response.

"Great, thanks! I'm off to bed since I have to get up at 3:45am but I'll call you tomorrow night around 7:30...love you Dollface..."

My heart stopped. Did he just say he was going to call??? Me??? Holy crap.

And so, at 7pm last night I went for a drive and tried to calm myself down. Drove around town...freaking out. Watched the clock on my car's radio obsessively...counting down the minutes. And then...7:30 came.

And went.

No call.

I drove around for another fifteen minutes and headed home. Got things ready to color Easter eggs with Steven and the kids and then at 8:15 just as I was pouring the vinegar into the egg cups my phone rang.

It was my father's wife. Apparently my dad had had to work at the prison and there had been an escape so because he's on the Emergency Response Team, he'd had to work late. He'd been frantic when he realized he wasn't going to be able to call me on time and had asked her to call me to tell me that he hadn't forgotten and that he was on his way home soon. We chatted for a few minutes and hung up.

We colored our eggs and just as I'd finished my last one, the phone rang again.

The call was a bit awkward...neither of us really knew exactly what to say but it was enough for me to finally hear his voice. And at the end of our twenty minute conversation, I heard the words that both lifted my spirit and broke my heart...

"I love you sweetheart..."

Steven couldn't wait to hear all about it and I told him what had been said. And I said, "You know, it's like I finally have a father after 36 years...amazing."

Unfortunately, the horrible news now.

Yesterday my nsister came out to visit for a few hours before she headed off to an 80's party with her friends. We had a bit of bonding time since I had to go to the store to "help" the Easter Bunny out and dragged her along. As I drove to the store, she turned down my radio and said, "I have to drop a bombshell on you now...Mom was going to email you last night but I told her I'd talk to you today since you should hear this face to face from one of us. Grandpa's only got three to six months to live...his heart is giving out."

I put on a brave face and we talked about driving down to Delaware to see him before he gets much weaker..but truthfully, I wanted to just pull over and cry. I barely know my grandfather...and now, my time is limited.

I met him for the first time back in March of 2009 when I traveled down to his 80th surprise birthday party with my nmother, n-uncle and sister and met the rest of my relatives too. I remember walking into the restaurant that first night of the trip..watching my mother lean in and whisper to him that she'd brought Christina. His face lit up and he searched the family for my face. I stepped forward and gave him a hug...he hugged me back and said, "You're so beautiful...I'm so glad you're here".

It hurts that I'll have to say goodbye before I've really had a chance to say hello.

Mercury Rising

2011-04-21T20:36:00.000-04:00

Did you all know that Mercury is in retrograde until Saturday? Well, it is and all I want to do is crawl into bed and emerge on Sunday once it's over. Here's a run down of what's been going on.

A week ago Tuesday I was driving to work with one of my coworkers...buzzing along happily in my Jeep, talking and laughing about the fact that there is NOTHING good on the radio in the morning. I was in the fast lane and saw a contractor's pickup truck pass us in the middle lane at a faster speed. My coworker Chris said, "Uh oh..." and I saw five 2x4's lift up from the bed of the truck and come up into the air in front of my Jeep. And then they made contact. Chris had the presence of mind to write down the truck's license plate..which was good in retrospect since they took off. I pulled over and we assessed the damage. And folks, we were lucky. Very, very lucky. The only thing that happened was that one of the boards knocked my license plate loose. I mean, you hear these horrible stories of people getting decapitated by flying metal and wood on the highways and honestly, if some of the boards hadn't flown over my roof, I'm not sure what the hell would have happened.

One of my other coworkers and one of the managers each lost their fathers this week within one day of each other. I just went to one of the wakes tonight after work. It was so difficult to go into the funeral home and have to view the casket. The last funeral I was at was my grandfather's...and before that, my adoptive father's. It will never get easier. I still miss my grandfather...and still wish that my father was alive..if only so I could get the chance to tell him how much of an asshole he really was. Lol..nah...I don't have any issues, right?

Yet another coworker lost one of her good friends last week...in a house fire. She died with her mother by her side...leaving behind her father, two brothers, sister-in-law and best friend, and her nephew. She was only 23.

Yesterday, my natural mom texted me and told me that her father, my grandfather, is in the hospital. He's had heart problems and he'd gotten really weak and my step-grandmother couldn't get him up and had to call the ambulance. I'm really scared that something is going to happen to him...and yet, I still feel like an outsider, like I don't have "the right" to care as much as I do since I only met him 2 years ago.

Wake me up on Sunday...I can't handle all the heartache that my friends and family are dealing with.

Poking My Head Back In

2011-04-11T22:04:00.000-04:00

The longer this blogging hiatus has gone on for me, the greater my anxiety and depression have been. You'd think this would have catapaulted me back to writing on a semi-regular basis, but noooooooo...not this girl. Instead I shied away even more....

So what's been going on in my life? Errr, that question should probably be, what have I been dwelling on in my life...

~ Made it through another Quarter End at work...with most of my sanity intact. I'm struggling to find real purpose in what I do though and that's causing me stress. I hate my job...but I need my job...and that just makes me hate it even more.

~ Even though Steven hasn't proposed yet, I know it's coming eventually (heard from a reliable source) and it's stressing me out not to know when.

~ My son's father is now almost $6,000 behind in child support and arrears and while I make good money at the-job-that-I-hate, it makes me really sad for Chase. Not that he knows any of the money aspect of things..not at all...but it's not really about the money...it's about respect and being responsible for a child. (Sorry Ex'sWife if you're reading this, but it's my blog and I can only hold my tongue for so long before I blow like Mt. Vesuvius. I'm mad and have been really working on forgiving Son'sFather but it's difficult. If there's one thing that I hate most in this world, it's apathy. For heaven's sake, why can't people just give a shit once in awhile?

~ I finally mustered up the energy to clean our bedroom. Lol..Steven's side of the room is spotless..and while mine wasn't "dirty", it was definitely not up to par with how I wanted it to look and feel. I want an oasis for us..a romantic place that we can go chill out in together and sadly it was more utilitarian and functional but not very conducive to connecting. (Get your minds out of the gutter...I wasn't even talking about you-know..lol...).

~ Still corresponding with my father and his wife. We are all friends on my third super secret Facebook page, along with my nmother. It's quite the ragtag group...we've been asking each other questions, like a quiz kind of, to get to know each other. Some of the questions have been difficult to ask and to answer but we're muddling through. Haven't told my amother or asister that I've found him...or that we're in such close contact and that's just adding to my anxiety. I know that I don't technically have to tell them...but I just feel like I should. Why? Because I like getting the cold shoulder from my amother. I thrive on the abuse.

~ Lastly, I'm going to be honest here...I've been really thinking about what PP2.0 said on her blog about me. And it's made me a bit gun shy. I was bullied in high school...horribly...and while I want to be able to get my points across, I certainly don't want to stoop to her level of meanness. I'm trying to figure out how to reinvent my blogging style so I don't come off like a total bitch.

What do you mean, too late?????

Well, There You Go Then

2011-03-17T20:34:00.000-04:00

I need to STOP looking at my Google Reader.

Chinese Infant Adoptees Form Attachments Quickly

I formed an attachment to MY adoptive mother too, but I think it was more out of necessity and the fear of being abandoned again than anything else.

Wearing Someone Else's Genes

2011-03-16T19:21:00.001-04:00

My a-Great Aunt Eleanor turned 90 last weekend. Her sister, my other aunt, threw a birthday party for her and I went with my mother. The party was actually really nice, I've always loved Aunt Eleanor..she's a spunky lady. Her husband died back in 1981 after a drunk driver plowed into their car...killing him and the husband of the couple they were with while my aunt and the wife survived. They never had kids so she spread her love among her nieces, nephews and their kids (myself included).

At the end of the afternoon, my mother's cousin's wife..Jesse..was talking to amother and me.

Jesse: Aunt Eleanor is just amazing...still driving, volunteering...just so wonderful for her age!

Mother: Yes..the lifespan in the family is remarkable.. ::chuckles::

Jesse: Well, you two (looks at me and my amother) are so lucky to have those genes!

Mother: You're right about that.. (uneasy look at me)

Me: I'll bring the car around.

I mean...I know that Jesse might not know that I'm adopted but it really bugged the shit out of me.

Coffee Talk: Part Four

2011-03-07T19:44:00.000-05:00

I'm gonna blame my extended absence on work, being sick and just generally being lazy. But to jump start my brain, I'm going to answer Melynda's question from my last installment of Coffee Talk.

Here's another question: Do you feel that as you raise your own (fabulous) children, you are getting the chance to "re-parent" yourself at the same time? I don't know if that makes any sense or not...I guess I have found that as I have raised my children, I am finding a great deal of satisfaction in being the kind of parent I always wanted to have. It can't undo the type of parenting I had growing up, but it does seem to ameliorate some of the pain of having crappy parents.

Unequivocably, yes. I am re-parenting myself. I've had to work REALLY hard at not being the kind of parent (and I'm using that term extremely loosely) that I had to deal with. The comical thing is that my amother thinks that I'm sometimes too strict with my kids. Oh, why? Because I got upset when Madelyn scratched designs in the top of her antique dresser? Or because I sent Chase to his room to calm down when he got out of control?

The difference is, I don't throw my kids across the room when they mess up. I don't keep them up until 3am screaming and ranting and raving about God knows what. At the end of the day, they know that I love them and care about them, even when they might disappoint me. Another difference? I can recognize that I might just disappoint them too sometimes...I'm human. I make mistakes. I allow myself to make mistakes. I allow them to make mistakes.

So Funny I Forgot To Laugh

2011-02-22T19:03:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite websites is "Damn You Auto Correct". I read it daily to get my fix of stupid humor. On one of the message boards I'm a member of, someone posted an auto correct that a lot of the other members were laughing at.

Read it first, then come back.

I guess my inner adoptee hackles became raised because I didn't find it funny, and asked the other members why they thought it was.

The answers varied, but basically I was told that not everyone has a negative attitude about adoption and that many kids will torture their siblings with the dreaded "You're adopted" line. And that I shouldn't read too much into the link since not everyone feels the same way I do. Okay. Yeah. Uhhhhhh...no...still not funny.

I know that they are coming from a different place than we are. I get that. I understand that there are people out there who are so far in the fog that me saying I'm angry that adoption exists gets them defensive.

I shut down while I read their responses...and if any of them are reading this, I'm not directing this to anyone person. It just really was a rude awakening to read some of the comments and to see how adoption is viewed by a lot of people.

I'm just tired of the jokes, you know? I'm tired of hearing the punchline and realizing that it's me.

Crappy Analogy or Plain Stupidity?

2011-02-18T14:38:00.001-05:00

So, I usually keep my "adoption stuff" off of my IRL Facebook profile. I have both adoptive relatives and natural relatives on there so I tread a thin line of posting stuff that's all inclusive, if you know what I mean. But honestly, what I'm about to copy and paste seriously made me angry.

I'm changing names here...just because I can.

My natural mother has a friend Andrea. Now, Andrea has a friend named Josephine who is now friends with nmom and I, by default. She knows about nmom finding me and that I am adopted.

Yesterday Josephine posted the below status on Facebook and it was all I could do not to throw my monitor out of my office window. I didn't though...just vented about it to my nmom who said she was pissed too.

Josephine ~ is thinking of selling almost all of my purses on ebay to fund that one really big purse purchase! It's like giving my kids up for adoption.

Vera ~ What really big purse purchase?

Crystal ~ My purse just broke yesterday I'm in the market for a new one it could be an open adoption

Christina (Yours Truly) ~ ‎: /

Nmom ~ I'm with you, Christina...hanging onto my purses...

Nmom ~ Ps...crappy analogy.

Josephine ~ Lol I don't know I do love them purses but they don't talk back. No offense intended ladies.

Lisa ~ You could probably buy a nice used car with the profit you would make on those babies!

Jennifer ~ LMFAO!! Like a bandaid honey...just do it!!

I just hate that people can be so nonchalent about adoption when they have NO IDEA what it's actually like, for anyone.

Get Out The Barf Bag

2011-02-16T16:44:00.001-05:00

ABUSE ABUSE ABUSE ABUSE ABUSE ABUSE ABUSE ABUSE

ad nauseam*

Etymology: L, ad, to; Gk, nausia, seasickness

to the extent of inducing nausea and vomiting.

*definition taken from here.

Are you vomiting yet? Feeling a bit sick to your stomach? After all, I talk about being abused ALL the time, right? I mean, why can't I just shut up about it? Wouldn't everyone feel a lot better not having to hear about me being thrown across the room or molested by my adoptive father? Shouldn't I be shitting rainbows instead???

Sorry, if that's why you're reading my blog, then you've definitely come to the wrong place. I write about the abuse to help MYSELF. And if I can help others along the way then FRIGGING GOOD FOR ME AND FOR THEM.

I've been quiet this past week, blog-wise anyway. I'll admit it, after my last post, after I had some time to reflect on what it was that PP2.0 was saying, I was upset. Maybe that's what she was trying to do...make me feel as bad as she did after she received the Blog of Shame award. And then I got to thinking, should I stop that particular part of this blog? Stop calling other bloggers out on their words, trying to get them to think about what they write before they say it?

But along the same vein, do I stop writing about the abuse too? Make this a different kind of blog than what it started out to be? I know that I'm not as reflective or articulate as some of my blogging friends...but I never claimed to be. I'd miss you all but I wouldn't even need a single follower to continue writing, no matter the forum. Sigh.

What say all of you? Because at this moment, I'm really at a loss.

Anyone Want To Contribute?

2011-01-29T19:14:00.000-05:00

My beautiful friend Jen at Always In My Heart: An Adoption Journey emailed me the other day (sorry honey, I still owe you a return email..lol...I suck) and let me know about a great opportunity for us to share our "wonderful" adoption stories. It's here (click on the farting unicorn):

It'll take a few days for me to figure out how I want to approach the blog post that is brewing, but rest assured, there's one brewing.

Thanks again Jen...love you!

Next Time I'm Hitting Delete Immediately

2011-01-28T08:12:00.001-05:00

My amother sends me emails usually every day at work. Mostly forwarded emails…chain emails…prayer emails…blah blah blah.

Normally I skim them and hit delete. Today, I had a second and was reading the one she just sent. I wish I hadn’t.

The email was about this contest that was held to find the most caring child. The child below didn't win, by the way.

Teacher Debbie Moon's first graders were
discussing a picture of a family. One little boy in the picture
had a different hair color than the other members.. One of her
students suggested that he was adopted.
A little girl said, 'I know all about
Adoption, I was adopted..'

'What does it mean to be adopted?', asked
another child.

'It means', said the girl, 'that you grew
in your mommy's heart instead of her tummy!'

30 Days of Truth ~ Day Nine

2011-01-27T18:20:00.001-05:00

Day 9: Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.

I've been pondering this one for a few days. I couldn't come up with just one person. What I came up with is that I didn't let go of anyone. I let them just drift away.

I have a very hard time making friends. I'm sure some of the readers of this blog who don't adore me yet would say that it's because I'm angry and bitter and need to be prayed for. The truth is, I think that people find me awkward in social situations...and therefore, I don't get invited out a lot. And because I'm afraid that people find me awkward, I don't call anyone up to see if they want to hang out. Vicious cycle, yes?

My whole thing is, I can't allow myself to get close enough to people because they always leave or hurt me. It's worked to protect my fragile soul so far...but it definitely isn't conducive to forming long term friendships. I live behind a wall of my own building and am unsure of how, or even whether it's safe, to knock it down.

30 Days of Truth: Day Eight

2011-01-23T18:01:00.000-05:00

Day 8: Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like {poo}.

This was a difficult one for me. I was going to take the easy way out and choose one of my ex-boyfriends, or one of the mean girls or boys in high school. But that wouldn't be pushing myself. And for me, that's what this challenge is all about. Pushing myself...hard.

That doesn't mean, however, that I'll be able to write much for this post. I have my limits. Instead, I'll post a picture and let you draw your own conclusions as to why I chose this person. If you've been following along on my blog for any length of time, it shouldn't be that difficult to figure out.

30 Days of Truth ~ Day Seven

2011-01-20T19:39:00.000-05:00

Day 7: Someone who has made your life worth living for.

They have taught me...

how to make the silliest faces.

how to enjoy turning cartwheels in the grass during the summer.

how to snuggle.

how to be patient.

how to find wonder in the smallest things.

how to discipline without being abusive.

how jumping on the bed singing Hannah Montana is actually really fun.

how to laugh at myself.

how to trust another person unconditionally.

how to love.

30 Days of Truth ~ Day Six

2011-01-19T19:27:00.000-05:00

Day 6: Something you hope you never have to do.

I have already done something I hoped to never do....suffered a miscarriage. I wasn't very far along in the pregnancy, but it was traumatic nonetheless. I think about that child to this day, he or she would be fourteen years old now.

But like many of the other participants, my true answer to this one is a simple one. I hope never to bury a child.

My amother told me the below story in its entirety while I was pregnant with Madelyn. I wish she hadn't.

Back in the mid 60's, my a-uncle and a-aunt had a baby...their first child. She was eight months old and was napping in an upstairs bedroom of my grandparents' house while a family barbecue was going on. My aunt went inside to check on her and moments later started screaming. From what my amother said, the screams were the worst she'd ever heard.

Both of my uncles rushed into the house to see what was going on and they found my aunt holding my limp cousin out to my uncle. He performed CPR (or whatever it was called back in the 60's) on the baby but she was already gone. Not sure if SIDS was recognized back then, but that is most likely what claimed her life.

We used to drive past her tiny grave on our way to the family plot for the yearly flower planting and I've often wonder how my a-aunt survived the loss of that baby. Just horrifying.

"I Love Adoption" ::thud::

2011-01-18T16:57:00.000-05:00

I'm taking a one day break from the 30 Days of Truth challenge to rant and rave about a blog I've featured on one of my Blog of Shame posts.

She's disabled comments because of the anti-adoption trolls (muahahahaha) but I wanted to just point out WHY she remains one of the top Blog of Shame authors.

She and her husband are waiting to be put on the wait list with her agency still. But it looks like that'll happen soon enough. Want know why she loves adoption?

Here's her most recent post.

I've copied and pasted a list she included in the post.

I love adoption for so many reasons:

*opportunity to be a mom

*opportunity to be a family of 3

*meeting AMAZING people who have or are considering adoption

*the bond adoptive parents make...it is so instant, very similar to the bond I have made with other Army wives

Clearly, in her eyes, adoption is NOT about finding a home for a child for whom there is no other option. It's about her. It's about other adoptive parents.

It's not about the child, Folks.

30 Days of Truth ~ Day Five

2011-01-17T19:36:00.000-05:00

Day 5: Something you hope to do in your life.

When I was younger, one of my favorite television shows was The Brady Bunch. I loved the episodes where they'd go on family trips...my favorite being their trip to the Grand Canyon. I've always been fascinated by pictures of the huge expanse of the canyon, stretching out for miles and miles. Wondering what it'd be like to look over the edge and see the bottom, hundreds of feet below.

See, I haven't really traveled anywhere in my life. We never went on faraway vacations when I was younger. We'd spend a week in Maine every summer and once we went to a family church camp on Cape Cod when I was seven. The farthest north I've been was Prince Edward Island in Canada when I was pregnant with Chase and the farthest south was Virginia. Never been to Disney World and have never been on a plane except for a trip to Maryland once.

Steven is an only child and has traveled to many of the states in the USA. He's told me about horseback riding in Wyoming...seeing the Giant Sequoias in California..and countless trips to Florida. He's been to Europe many times and is very nonchalent about his travels.

I have to admit, I'm jealous. I feel sheltered...and I have made him promise me that we'll get to visit the Grand Canyon someday. (A trip to meet Mickey Mouse isn't out of the question either..lol).

30 Days of Truth ~ Day Four

2011-01-16T16:55:00.001-05:00

Day 4: Something you have to forgive someone for.

I don't know whether this person's spouse is reading my blog, so I'm going to keep this as brief as possible. (If she is, I hope she understands why I am writing about the situation on this post...strictly in the name of healing).

I've done things I'm not proud of in my life. And one of those things was sleeping with my son's father on the first date.

Phew.

Still here?

I've forgiven myself for that. It happened, we were together through my pregnancy and then we broke up (I'm grateful for that because things got VERY messy at the end) when Chase was 3 months old.

What I have to forgive my ex for is his disrespect to me as a person, and as the mother of his son.

He posted a Myspace profile when things were particularly rough between us after he returned from a 3 year fathering hiatus with a new wife and daughter in tow...I was angry at his nonchalent attitude towards our son and he was angry because he believed I had kept him from Chase.

It was bad enough that the url for the page ended in "fuckucw"...but the profile picture he posted made my blood boil.

After things had gotten better and more civil between us, he removed the picture and deleted most of the page's content..but the hurt remains..even all these years later. I know, I know...just one more thing I should just "get over". And I'm trying. But some days the shame just washes over me like a tsunami.

30 Days of Truth ~ Day Three

2011-01-15T18:29:00.000-05:00

Hmmm...

Day 3: Something you have to forgive yourself for.

When I was a teenager, I wrote in a journal. Stupid stuff usually, nothing too deep because thinking about the deep stuff would have surely driven me crazy. But I remember a lot of times, just filling up the pages with the words, "I hate myself". Over and over and over. I'd look at myself in the mirror and just cry, wondering why I wasn't pretty...wondering why I wasn't good enough for any of the kids in school to be my friend. Page after page I'd write those words and then I'd read them back outloud. Sobbing and alone, I built a wall up around myself, locking my scarred soul away like a captive in a dungeon.

I want to forgive myself for that hate. I want to fill up a journal with the words, "I love myself".

Hopefully someday that will happen.

I'm not there yet.

30 Days of Truth ~ Day Two

2011-01-14T19:05:00.001-05:00

Yesterday's post...easy peasy. I could have come up with a gazillion billion things that I dislike about myself..but today's prompt is ~~a gazillion billion times~~ a little harder.

Day 2: Something you love about yourself.

Ummmm...yeah. ::whistles while staring up at the ceiling::

When I was a child, I was abused. Emotionally, mentally, physically and sexually. I survived.

When I was an infant, just six days old, I was given up for adoption. I survived.

When I was thirteen months old, I contracted Reye's Syndrome and was in a coma for four days and in the hospital for eight days. I survived.

On the first day of junior high school, my best friend of six years stopped talking to me. I survived.

Kids in school taunted and teased me mercilessly. I survived.

When I was pregnant with Chase, Madelyn (eighteen months old at the time) and I were in a car accident that totaled my car. I survived.

When I was pregnant with Madelyn, I choked on a sandwich and turned blue. I survived.

Madelyn's biological father left me when I was three months pregnant because he wasn't ready to be a father. I survived.

Chase's biological father abused me emotionally and took advantage of my fragile heart. I survived.

I got the shock of my life on July 11, 2008 when I was found by my natural mother on Myspace. I survived.

I began experiencing flashbacks of the abuse I suffered at the hands of my afather in August of 2009. I survived.

I found out that a close relative has a chronic illness that will one day take their life. I survived.

I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to write this post. I survived.

I am a survivor. I love that about myself.

30 Days of Truth ~ Day One

2011-01-13T19:54:00.002-05:00

I know that I gave her a Blog of Shame award...but I'm actually turning my thinking around about Laura of "The Lola Letters" fame. I honestly think it's admirable that she was able to acknowledge that maybe her words had hurt, rather than helped...something I work on figuring out every day.

Laura is doing the "30 Days of Truth" challenge. I think it was supposed to be 30 weeks, but honestly, I sometimes forget to put on deodorant..do you really think I'd be able to stick to 30 weeks of posting???

And so, I'm starting today, with Day One.

Day 1: Something you dislike about yourself.

I dislike the fact that I stutter. Haven't talked about that in awhile, but I'm bringing it to the forefront right now. I haven't answered the house phone in years, unless I know who it is. Truthfully, I have some sort of "block" on the word "Hello". A simple word really. And one that I can say in normal conversation, but call me on the phone and I block.

Blocking means that I pick up the phone and cannot physically say the word "Hello". Weird? Yep. I know. That's what frustrates me the most. It's just so random and awkward. 9 times out of 10 I let the call go to voicemail. The tenth time, I switch it up and say, "Hi, this is Christina" instead.

Speaking of "Christina", I can't say that either. If I'm in a group of people and we're all introducing ourselves, the logical thing would be to just say your name while shaking the person's hand. Nope, not me. I have to say, "My name is Christina". Drives me batshit. I hate social situations in which I'm trapped into speaking. That's when my anxiety is at its highest.

Why does this happen to me? Why does my heart start to race when the phone rings or when I have to say my name? No clue. But again, it drives me crazy and just adds to my feeling of self-loathing.

Have you cringed yet? I hope not. I'm learning that it's just something I'll have to deal with for the rest of my life..it's part of what makes me, well, ME. I can't change it, might as well learn to live with it.

In A Nutshell

2011-01-13T15:56:00.000-05:00

I was going to give this natural mother a Blog of Shame award, but I just couldn’t bring myself to bother. I’ve commented on her blog before and have always been struck by the angry way she discusses adoptees and their feelings. She’s a first mother…and from what I recall, her daughter doesn’t speak to her any longer. This is going to come out sounding bitter, but really, I can’t really blame her daughter for cutting ties if this is how her mother feels and expresses herself.

“People, I am just going to say it, being angry is ok. Yep, definitely. Being silly about hiding how you feel is ok. Being hurt is ok. These are honest emotions. But good grief! You are not babies anymore! If you are hurt, angry, feeling less than, take a look in the mirror. Ask yourself honestly if the words you are saying are not part of the problem. Ask yourself if telling someone who may or may not have been waiting for over 20 years to meet you that you are happy to have been adopted, that you don't care if their families don't know, that you hate them, ask yourself exactly how you would feel.”

So we should lie? We should deny our anger and just get over it? While I don’t understand the mindset of adoptees who are happy they were adopted, I’d never discount their feelings. One of my best friends is adopted…her adoptive parents went on to have a biological daughter four years later. She has never once, in the two and a half years since my reunion, said that she wished she could find her mother. She is content with her afamily and glad that she was adopted into a loving household. I’d never tell her she was wrong for being happy, but neither would she tell me that I’m wrong for my feelings of anger and pain.

In the words of my former therapist, you can’t take other people’s feelings personally. Those adoptees that Lori is ranting against aren’t ranting and raving against Lori. They are ranting against their own particular situation. One that only they have walked through. To tell them that they are part of the problem is just horribly presumptive.

Until you’ve walked a mile in someone else’s shoes and all that jazz…in fact, Lori says that adoptees should put themselves in their natural parents’ shoes…

“The fact is that you aren't in her/his head and you can't possibly know exactly what your words are doing to them. You can't possibly know if the person is being hammered down yet again, by YOU. You can't know.”

What about what your words are doing to adoptees who read your blog? Reading how immature we are for having feelings different from what you think we should have…

“You are, supposedly, mature, adult people. Yet you know you have issues with abandonment (in the very least) and that you should work them out and you don't. No, you don't. You would much rather beat the crap out of the person that you found/were found by, than face the fact that your problems are yours. After about 18 - 20 you can't blame your parents, none of them, for your problems. You can say they caused them, truly, but you are choosing not to deal with the problems in an honest fashion.”

I’d really like to know whose blogs she’s been reading…I think I’d like to add them to my blogroll if they aren’t already there.

Where'd It Go??? And An Update On Me

2011-01-12T20:43:00.000-05:00

I received an email the other day, I think from one of my readers..Tina (??)..that I looked at on my phone and then promptly did something that either deleted or otherwise banished to the great unknown. I can't find it and am hoping that Tina is reading this post and will resend the email. ::blushes with embarassment:: Sorry!

Things are going really well with P. We're trading almost daily emails and I'm just taking it one step at a time. He's excited to finally have a daughter of his own and is happy to get to know me and to exchange stories about our lives thus far. It's just so strange to say that I have a father, after my afather has been dead for seven years. My family orchard (can't say I have a tree...haha) has grown exponentially in the past month and I'm getting used to the idea of having two more brothers to add to the branches. I haven't asked him if they know about me yet...I figure I'll broach that subject eventually.

I'm stopping therapy for now. I know, GASP! Honestly, it's not because I want to, or because I think I'm "done". One of the drawbacks of getting hired full time at my work is that I had to switch health insurances and the therapist's office I was going to doesn't take the new insurance. I'm frustrated and can't even bring myself to start looking for another therapist because it's overwhelming to think about telling all of my crap to someone else. Guess that means I'll be blogging more frequently to get my feelings out. Aren't YOU all the lucky ones?

Coffee Talk with Christina : Part Three

2011-01-11T09:59:00.000-05:00

Remember back in August when I asked for questions because I was having writer's block? Well, I kind of am at the same place again...and am going to answer Lee's question now to jumpstart my creative juices.

Thanks Lee!

"What I might ask if we chatted over coffee would be how has your childhood informed how you parent your children today? I would ask this because although I am not adopted I had a very um odd family dynamic and found myself doing lots of sifting and casting out of things when I wanted to be a parent."

My childhood sucked. I was afraid of my aparents and felt lost and alone 99.99% of the time. I’d spend hours upon hours either in my room or outside in the woods by myself, inventing fairytale scenarios that I’d make up in my head. Often they’d involve a dramatic rescue…white horse, damsel in distress, the whole nine yards. My favorite book as a child was “A Little Princess” because for all intents and purposes, I WAS her.

As a mother, I’ve allowed my kids the freedom to be themselves. If that means that my son dresses up like Hannah Montana and prances around the house singing at the top of his lungs, then that’s okay with me. If that means that my daughter dresses in jeans and t-shirts all the time and rolls her eyes at me when it’s time to brush her teeth, then so be it. There are boundaries, of course, but I am bound and determined that my children will NEVER be afraid of me. The hugs and the kisses and the snuggles are given freely and without any fear of a slap across the face in the next moment.

I always make sure to let the kids know that I’m proud of them…that no matter how Maddie sings, or how Chase does on his spelling test, I’m proud. I never quite was able to obtain my aparents’ approval. My asister was the smart one…the one who made it farther with our piano lessons than I did…the one who got accepted into a better college than I did…the one who made straight A’s every time. Now I know that she did all those things to prove to our aparents that she was worthy enough of their love, but maybe a part of me was rebelling against them. And getting a B on my report card, while not really rebel worthy, was the best (or worst) I could do.

While I know that I need to make sure my kids are safe, I will not suffocate them. I know that they need to have their own lives and experience things that I never got to experience. I had to beg…literally beg…to be allowed to go out with my friends in high school. And when I’d get home I’d get the silent treatment for a good day and a half because I surely hadn’t deserved to be allowed to go, but they’d relented and now I was going to pay for it. I just wanted to have a little fun in an otherwise dreary existence…not too much to ask for…and it WON’T be too much for my kids to ask for. Ever.

By the way, this is Chase, dressed up like Hannah Montana...

Live With No Regrets

2010-12-31T18:30:00.001-05:00

It's been a wild week. Quarter/Year End is over...and life can get back to normal. Once, of course, my darling son kicks this fever in the ass. Sigh. I've been writing to P pretty much every day..learning more about his family--my family. It seems like it's been more than a week since we started talking, but we're definitely taking our time.

We had messages flying back and forth last night and I realized just now that I missed the last one he'd sent after he'd started a fire in his fireplace. I wanted to share it with all of you because, well, just because..lol.

Fire...check. I got my camera working, need to figure out how to broadcast. This weekend I get home around 7 pm so I'll be online after I walk the pooch.

We were talking a few weeks ago about the past year and that it was one of our best. And then you happened to me. I am so thankful, I can't tell you. I don't like to use the word regret because I believe you do the best you can with the available information you have at the time but I wish to God you and I could've connected before this. Everything happens for a reason so I don't question why. I think we will all be alright now...I pray for it.

And my response:

And I missed your message you had sent so I am sorry for not responding to it.

When C found me, my friends would ask me how I was feeling about it all. I finally was able to put it into words after a while. It was like a hole had been filled in my heart that I didn't even know was there. THAT is how I am feeling now, talking and connecting with you. We can't change the situation in the past...but we can move forward...together.

Holy sappy message Batman..lol.

I'm in awe of him. And I'm in awe of the situation.

My Christmas Present

2010-12-27T20:44:00.001-05:00

It was Friday afternoon, Christmas Eve, and I was walking around Target aimlessly looking for last minute stocking stuffers and presents. My phone vibrated and I saw that my nmom had texted me.

C: Has he written??

Me: Nothing yet..

C: Well he just wrote me on Facebook and said "Wish me luck, I'm going in.."

Me:

C: Breathe

Me: I'm in the middle of Target.

C: Lol.

Me: OMG, I have to go home.

C: Keep busy and BREATHE. He's probably writing and rewriting his letter...

Me: ::vomit::

C: Lol. Love you. No matter what, I love you.

I went home and started putting together Chase's Zhu Zhu pets and their accompanying playsets. Put on some Christmas music and got lost in the spirit. Until my phone beeped with the notification that I had a Facebook message.

My favorite Christmas present this year? No...not an engagement ring. And my new silver earrings, personalized keychain and Kindle were pretty frigging sweet, but those weren't the presents that meant the most to me.

This was:

Hi Christina, I wouldn't call it a shock, more like a tsunami...HA! I am surprised, no denying it, not shocked though...I welcome this surprisingly peaceful news. Mostly I am happy and relieved that you and C are together with your gorgeous babies.

I talked about you with my wife M and she agreed that you and I should (re)connect. She is wonderful and at some point, with your permission, I'm sure you will hear from her as well. My road is a long and winding one and one that I look forward to sharing with you. M and I live in our new house on the family farm, though not really a farm. We grow veggies to put up each year and horses occupy some of the land. We moved here to help take care of M's parents when the time comes. I have three sons, C, who was adopted, M, who's in the Army, and D. C and D live in Virginia Beach. I have 2 lovely step-daughters A and L and they have tons of kids so "Poppee" is always busy when they visit.

This is a new start and one that I am looking forward to with much anticipation. I must now go and tend to the man stuff that goes with decorating for the family party later today. Merry Christmas Doll.

The Waiting Game...Again

2010-12-23T15:59:00.001-05:00

I sent it. I sent an email to P on Facebook. Now I wait for him to reply. Holy hell I'm in a fog...not an adoption fog...just a fog..lol.

Hi P,

I hope that some of the shock has worn off…I have to say that I’ve been in a bit of a daze the last few days myself. I have written and then rewritten this note to you a hundred times and am hoping that I can formulate complete sentences and thoughts this time.

The basics about me? I have two kids, a daughter Madelyn, who is 10 and a son Chase, who is 7. They are very active and quite the characters. I work as a Credit and Collections Analyst full time and have a long time boyfriend, Steven, who helps me with the kids and life in general..lol.

I’m really looking forward to getting to know you and hopefully exchange a few pictures since C has told me that we look a lot alike and that Madelyn in particular looks quite a bit like you as well.

In peace,
Christina

S.O.S.

2010-12-22T22:03:00.000-05:00

For those of you who aren't my friends on Facebook or the forums, I have news. Good news...fantastic news even! My nfather wrote my mom. He's in shock...but told her he's "definitely open to contact with our daughter".

So now, WHAT THE HELL DO I SAY TO HIM???? ::thud:: It was SO much easier being the "findee" and not the "finder". I am not sure how brief or how wordy to get with the first email.

I have no stinking clue what I'm doing and I'm panicking. BIG TIME.

I have no idea if his wife or step daughters know about me...and like C said, he might have "some 'splaining" to do. I feel like a fish out of water and really need someone to slap me upside the head to restart my brain.

Yup, It's Quarter End

2010-12-21T20:18:00.000-05:00

Work is kicking my ass. Actually, that might be a good thing...it's taking me away from fretting and stressing out about the holidays. I mean, I am still stressed out thinking about balancing my time and figuring out how I'm going to see everyone since the adoptive family isn't comfortable being in the same ~~zip code~~ room as the natural family but it'll work out...somehow.

Maddie will be with her dad and Chase will be with his father from noon on Christmas Eve til 10am Christmas Day. My friend at work was saying, "Oooh! Christmas Eve with just you and Steven...maybe he'll pop the question!!". My response? "Bwhahahahahahahahahaha!!!".

See, whether or not Steven and I get married tomorrow or the day after that or next month or within the next few years, he's my husband already. In my heart. Do we have a piece of paper that says that? Nope. But we work. We fit. We're happy. And what puts the icing on the cake? My kids adore him. And I'm really okay not being married. For God's sake, if we lived in a different state than Massachusetts that had Common Law marriages, we'd already be "hitched"...lol.

Don't get me wrong though...were Steven to ask me, I'd say yes.

Holy shizznit. I'm tired and talking about marriage...I need sleep.

I promise that after this Quarter (and Year) end is over at work, I'll be back and better than ever. For now, I'll leave you to guess. Will he or won't he pop the question? :) Inquiring minds want to know!

Okay, Okay...I Get It Updated

2010-12-06T04:45:00.002-05:00

Of course you're all right. I SHOULD be the one to contact my natural father. I guess I let the shock of it all carry me along and I ignored the little voice in my head telling me the same thing.

I just emailed her and asked her to hold off on contacting him.

You know how we were talking about "Him" this weekend? And how you were going to write him?

If you haven't written him yet yourself, can you hold off? See, the thing is, for my whole life, I've let others do things for me...because there is less chance of getting in trouble if someone else takes the heat, you know?

But now, I feel like I'm supposed to contact him myself...to let the chips fall as they may. I'll let you read my email to him before I send it...but I really think it needs to be me to do the driving on this.

Does any of that make sense? I love you and don't want to offend you by even suggesting all of this but at some point, I need to step up and take the heat for myself :)

So now I'll wait to see what she says...but in the meantime, I'm going to start drafting a letter...to "Him".

Updated on 12/6/10: Soooo, she had already written him. And now feels lousy about it because she's afraid I'm mad. I did tell her though that regardless of his response to her, I'm going to write him myself.

Dad?

2010-12-05T15:01:00.000-05:00

My natural mom and sister came out to visit for the weekend and to see Maddie sing at the Holiday Stroll in town. My sister ended up going out to see some of her friends in the area Friday night so my mother and I got a chance to talk.

C: I found him. On Facebook.

Me: Him? Who, my ex? Yeah, I found him too..haha.

C: No, HIM. He's in North Carolina...married, looks like he has two step-daughters.

Me: (shocked)

C: I wanted to tell you before I wrote him...to see what you thought. To see if you WANTED me to write him. I'm not sure what he'll say. He might end up telling me to fuck off...but I'd rather he say that to me, than to you.

Me: Makes sense. I guess I'd just want him to know that I only want to talk to him if he wants to talk to me, you know?

C: (hugging me) I know.

She showed me his Facebook profile picture. The rest of his page was relatively private. His wife looks a bit kooky...but whatever. Couldn't really see details on the picture. But now I find myself obsessed with finding out more. I'm not sure whether he'll want to talk to me...seeing as he sent back all of C's letters and never responded to her phone calls before I was born...but maybe he's changed. Stranger things have happened, right?

I'm prepared for whatever...just still in shock I guess.

Well, Thank Goodness THAT'S Over

2010-11-30T21:16:00.000-05:00

"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.

Little Girl Lost

2010-11-28T19:12:00.000-05:00

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.

What Is An Object?

2010-11-23T15:26:00.000-05:00

Definition of OBJECT

1
a : something material that may be perceived by the senses
b : something that when viewed stirs a particular emotion (as pity)

2
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
3
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?”.

Stormy Fear

2010-11-09T20:08:00.001-05:00

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.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THE MATTER WITH YOU, YOU STUPID BITCH?? THE CURTAINS ARE SOAKED AND THERE'S WATER ON THE CARPET...YOU GODDAMN FUCKING IDIOT!!!"

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.

I Am A Biological Mother

2010-11-08T20:10:00.001-05:00

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.

Fluff

2010-11-03T16:41:00.000-04:00

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?

NAM-arama Ding Dong: Is It December Yet?

2010-11-01T20:49:00.001-04:00

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.

Comments From Someone Who Obviously Knows Everything About Me And What I'm About

2010-10-28T19:41:00.000-04:00

I received some very enlightening comments on my Pity, Party of One..Your Table's Ready post. Her name is Chris and she's the blog author of 2 Chicks 1 Hatchling.

Here's the first comment from Chris:

With all due respect from one human being to another, if you would stop attacking other people's writings that you disagree with, perhaps you could focus your energy in a more positive direction. I think its very sad that your blog is directed to making judgments on others. People want to be friends with others that are happy. I dont know what it will take for you to come to terms with your life at it is, and not how you wanted it to be, but I hope you find it. I sincerely doubt that seeking out "Blogs of Shame" and judging other peoples lives is helping you to find what you seek. Perhaps you could volunteer your time to a more worthy cause.

Sincerely,

friend of a happy, healthy, adopted child

And my response:

Chris, with "all due respect" the fact that you are a friend of a happy, healthy, adopted child doesn't mean shit to me. Come back and comment on my blog when you're the friend of a happy, healthy adopted adult.

See, what you don't understand is that I don't discuss my issues with being adopted with the "real world". To the outside world, I'm a mother, a girlfriend, a working professional, a good listener, someone who would drop everything to help people out...but here, I can let my feelings out. Much like the AP's I come across in Blogland let all their feelings out.

I have the right to disagree with them. Sorry...but last time I checked, AP's don't hold a monopoly on blogging. Last time I checked, it's not normal to covet someone else's child or to call pregnant women "Breeders" or to pray that a grieving father gives his infant child up simply because there's an infertile couple waiting to scoop the baby up.

Not all the blogs I gift the Blog o' Shame awards to are ones that I've found. Often, they are passed on to me from friends and even complete strangers.

Perhaps you should volunteer at an adoptee support group to see what I'm talking about and what issues you think I should be able to just get over.

So, she decided to post a rebuttal:

My apologies, I said "child" because she was a child when she was adopted. She is now 43. (A former boyfriend of mine lived his whole life in foster care. He was never adopted, and now resides in a prison.)

Also, I did not suggest that you should "just get over" anything. I said that seeking out and attacking others that disagree with you wasn't helping your cause. You have every right to disagree with whomever you choose and use whatever hurtful words you like. If that's what makes you happy, then go for it. The only reason I posted to start with at all was because you mentioned you were unhappy. I think that your negativity may be part of that. Acceptance, forgiveness, and love do amazing things for the soul.

Rather than reply there, I've decided to write down my thoughts in a new post.

The problem, Chris, is that many times adopted adults are treated as children. We are told to just "get over it" (it being our adoptions and displeasure at growing up with strangers)...that our heritage doesn't matter at all...that we should be thankful for being saved from a dumpster or a crack addicted mother or name-another-horrible situation.

What amuses me is that you give two examples of adopted persons that you know. One is 43 and is a "happy, healthy, adopted child"..and the other was in foster care, never adopted and is now in *gasp* prison. Poor foster care boy, huh? If he'd only been adopted, he NEVER would have ended up in prison, right? I know people who grew up with their natural parents who ended up on the wrong path...so your implied theory is crap.

I speak out for adoptees who can't yet speak for themselves. I speak out for adoptees who CAN speak for themselves. I speak out. And if you're offended by my tone, then it's your perogative to click the little red "X" in the upper right hand corner of your monitor. I'll continue to read blogs...I'll continue to write my posts.

I'm NOT happy that there are blogs out there that proclaim that waiting for a mother to give up their child is the same as being pregnant..."paper pregnancy". I'm NOT happy that there are blogs out there that say that God called them to adopt. No..the Creator didn't. They called themselves to adopt. I'm NOT happy that there are adults who aren't allowed to have their original birth certificates. I'm NOT happy that there are people who can go to a sperm bank and pick some swimmies and make a child that will never know his/her father.

That doesn't mean that I don't have happiness in my life. I have a solid support system. My boyfriend has stood by me through very bad times...he knows about the abuse..knows about the issues I have with my adoptive mother and adoption in general and loves me all the more for what I've been through. My children make me happy...24/7. They are my flesh and blood. And before I was found by my natural mother, they were the only people in whose eyes I could see myself. My reunion makes me happy. Regardless of the pain and the what-ifs that I deal with, I am happy that I was found and that I have natural family members who love me unconditionally.

You told me that "Acceptance, forgiveness, and love do amazing things for the soul". Yes..they do.

I've accepted that I was adopted into an abusive shithole of a household. Do I have to like it and keep my mouth shut about it just because I accept it? Nope.

I've forgiven my natural mother for feeling scared and giving me up for adoption. Do I have to like THAT and keep my mouth shut about it just because I've forgiven her?

I have love in my life. Great love. But that does NOT mean I have to keep my mouth shut and not say things that I think need to be said about the atrocities that are caused...yes, caused...by adoption.

Pity, Party of One..Your Table's Ready

2010-10-26T10:55:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I wonder what's wrong with me. Well I mean, aside from the obvious adoptee issues I struggle with on a daily basis. I told you all about how my best friend had "broke it off with me" back in May. And I guess I thought, hey, I don't need her. I have plenty of other friends to keep me busy!

Lie. The truth is, I don't have plenty of other friends to keep me occupied. The only people who call my cell phone are my boyfriend, my ex (my daughter's dad), my amom and my nsister. Everyone else just Facebooks me, or..it seems like…can't be bothered. This past weekend, both my kids were essentially gone from Friday night until Sunday night. And while it was relaxing…I was lonely. Very lonely. Steven was off doing some errands and helping one of his buddies for a couple hours on Saturday and I just sat on the couch for those two hours, wishing I had someone to call. Someone who I could go visit and have a cup of coffee with. A "go to" person, you know?

Maybe I've done this to myself. But, on the advice of my therapist, I HAVE been trying to be the kind of friend that I'd want to have. And, it's not working. Do I realize I'm whining? Yep. I guess I just need to whine and feel sorry for myself before I can truly get over it. It just sucks.

That's not to say that I don't appreciate all of you. That I don't know that you are all my friends too. You're all just so far away…and while I desperately wish I could, I can't just call one of you up and say, "Hey, want to meet for coffee?". I have work friends…but they live close to my job and that's an hour away. On the rare weekends that I could get away for a night for girls' time…they are usually busy. I spent the bulk of my growing up years being alone and learning to deal with it but now that I've experienced what it felt like to have a best friend, I long for that again.

Chameleon

2010-10-07T20:58:00.000-04:00

Had therapy tonight. We've been actually dealing with a lot of my feelings about being adopted and growing up in the family that I was ~~so lucky to have been taken in by~~ bought by. Tonight I talked about how hard it was not looking like the rest of my afamily. I mean, the likeness between all of them is astounding..or maybe it just seemed that way because I didn't have any other frame of reference. Holidays were hard because we were all in the same place, and the differences were glaringly obvious. Their faces all were shockingly the same...and then there were my sister and I with our thick plastic BCG's and cheap thrift store clothes that never seemed to fit correctly...just didn't fit in.

But I tried. I became a master of disguises. I said what was expected of me..smiled when it was appropriate...laughed at the jokes...listened while my cousins talked about the latest song on the radio or the newest television heart throb...and took on their opinions. Because it was easier. I pretended that my family wasn't "off". That we really WERE one big happy family...that when we went home, the screaming and yelling and scary days and nights were just bad dreams. Because it was easier.

I still listen to others to find out what the majority is thinking and then I just go along with the crowd. I don't even know if I could say what I wanted or what I thought because I've never really forced myself to do that. I am 36 years old and have no idea who I am. I know the roles I play in my life...mother, daughter and sister to two different families, girlfriend to one, EX girlfriend to a few, employee, neighbor...but those really are just roles. They aren't WHO I am on the inside. They aren't my feelings or emotions.

Sometimes I feel like a blank slate...waiting for people to come to me and draw my life in for me. But, like I told my therapist, I want to draw my OWN picture eventually. It's terrifying though.

She said that hopefully someday soon I'll be able to figure out what I want to do...if it's Credit and Collections, then great (not likely). If it's not, then what is it?

I told her I've always wanted to write...she was very encouraged and asked me if I'd ever written anything. I told her about this blog...and my other fluffy one. Can't believe I told her about them, but I did. She was so excited about it I thought she was going to jump out of her chair. Truth be told, I'm a bit excited about it too. I didn't have to think about it for one second. The words, "I'd love to be a writer" just came out of my mouth.

And so, the point of this rambling post is to say that I'm going to really try and focus (yeah, yeah, heard that before?) and just...write. And write my own story...and draw my own life's picture. And find some oasis in this world...for me.

Knock Knock...

2010-10-05T07:36:00.000-04:00

Me: Knock knock...
You: Who's there?
Me: Nacho...
You: Nacho WHO?
Me: Nacho Mama!

For some of the adoptive mothers out there who are looking for shirts to proclaim their rightful place in the family, here you go:

Clearance Section

Sometimes WTF just doesn't cut it.

Adoption Screening?

2010-09-30T19:12:00.001-04:00

Please read: The Benefits of Doing an Adoption Screening

I'm confused by the whole "like with like" statement. Let's say the child is adopted as an infant. How exactly can you match that baby with adopters who are like him or her? I guess you can match a blonde haired, blue eyed girl with blonde haired blue eyed aparents...but what other criteria would be suitable?

In my case, I did semi-resemble my adoptive parents with my looks...but I definitely wasn't loud or mean. I went to church because they went to church, but not because I had been born wanting to go. I listened to Elvis Presley and Hooked on Classics, not because I particularly cared for them, but because that's what my amother would play on the record player every Saturday while my sister and I cleaned the house. I absolutely hate seafood, while my family loved it, and they would always bitch and moan when they had to find restaurants in Maine on our vacations that would cater to my picky eating habits.

"In fact, adoptions were generally indistinguishable from indentured servitude at best, whereby room and board was provided in return for labor for a set number of years; it has to be considered a relative improvement when adoptions became much more like apprenticeships, providing at least some training in marketable skills."

It's good that adoption became less like slavery and more like apprenticeship how exactly? Because of the "training in marketable skills"?

I was trained in how to hide my feelings.
I was trained to not speak up for myself.
I was trained how to cower in the corner.
I was trained to pretend that our family was perfect.
I was trained to expect to be yelled at at least twice a day.
I was trained how to stop myself from crying to avoid being beaten.

Great marketable skills, huh?

A Blessing In Disguise

2010-09-26T13:44:00.002-04:00

Instead of getting upset at the car accident or at the cold that I have...I'm thankful. Cannot get into specifics here but suffice to say, I have a feeling that the universe is looking out for me.

Cheating Just A Bit

2010-09-24T18:19:00.000-04:00

I posted this on my favorite adoptee forum earlier and because I'm tired and cranky I'm just cutting and pasting. So those of my friends who have already read this whiny-ness, feel free to jet.

My daughter gave me a cold...a horrible, rotten no good "head feels like it's stuffed with cotton and rocks" cold. And, there's an elephant sitting on my chest.

I made it through work up until 3pm and then asked my manager if I could leave early, go home and sleep. (Didn't fucking help that my wonderful *ahem* boyfriend had used all the daytime cold medicine and DIDN'T FUCKING TELL ME).

Left work and all was well until I was a half hour up the highway. Was in the fast lane but the cars were all crawling because of road construction. The truck in front of me braked and then stopped. I braked and then stopped. The jeep behind me? Didn't stop. At.All.

My jeep's okay...relatively. The back door won't open, the bumper's possibly hanging on by a bolt and is scratched and ripped in a few places. What burns my ass too is that my friend had put on the tire cover I'd found at a flea market right before I left work today and now IT'S ripped too with pieces of glass in it.

I know it could have been a lot worse...and looking at the jeep that plowed into me, I am VERY lucky...but I just feel so lousy and tired and didn't need this today.

I should have just stayed at work and suffered.

Coffee Talk With Christina: Part Two

2010-09-21T20:44:00.001-04:00

Been feeling a bit out of it lately...again..lol. So it's time to jumpstart my blog with some more cawfee tawk, inspired by some very special friends/readers. What? You can't stop laughing about "cawfee tawk"? I AM from Massachusetts after all, gotta have the accent on my blog sometimes even if I don't have one when I'm talking..haha.

This installment's questions are brought to you by the lovely Von. Thank you...love you!

"Did you try "Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way"?"

Try it? No. Seek out the website and decide that I'll be seriously getting into it very soon? Yes!

"Where do you see yourself in 10 years time? 20 years time?"

Hmmmm, well in ten years time my kids will both be out of high school (OMG, that was difficult to write). I'd love to be working in a job that I want to go to rather than one that I'm at now. It's a daily struggle to drive there, knowing that I'm going to be stuck in front of a computer monitor all day. But the quandry is, I have no idea what I want to do. What am I good at?? I have no clue. Yikes.

In twenty years, holy jeebus, I just hope I'm still around to see my kids happy with the lives they are living. Perhaps I'll have grandchildren (HOLY JEEBUS)...or helping to plan a wedding. Most of all though, I hope I'll feel fulfilled and pleased with the progress I've made as a person. I picture myself healthier in the future...finally free from this stupid weight that I'm carrying around...not just the physical weight but the emotional baggage as well. It seems so far away some days.

"What adoption reforms would you like to see happen?"

First and foremost, open access for all adoptees to their original birth certificates. It's a civil right that is denied to millions of adoptees because...well, honestly, I'm not really sure why. Do I think that adoption will ever be entirely wiped out? Sadly no. But that doesn't mean that it's not worth fighting for...and striving for. Why not legal guardianship? Why does it have to be adoption? If it's truly about the best interests of the child, why is taking away their heritage okay? Answer: To me, it's not.

"What is your most precious dream?"

You know what? I've never allowed myself to truly dream.

I used to dream of going to and graduating from college...had to leave after a year though because dear ol' adad lost his job and I had to move home to help work to pay the household bills.

Then there was the dream of getting married and having kids...with a beautiful house complete with a white picket fence. Well, I have the kids..lol. And, you'll all be the first to know if and when I get proposed to by Steven... I'm going to be honest here...I get horribly jealous of my friends who did get married in their 20's. Like I'm not part of the club...and to which I can never gain entrance.

But I made choices in my life that crushed the "perfect life" dream and I've stopped allowing myself to even daydream about it because I just end up disappointed.

I have no idea if I truly answered your questions Von or just scratched the surface, but you definitely gave me food for thought.

Is Adoption Right For You?

2010-09-20T20:36:00.000-04:00

Please read Kim's post and find out for yourself.

Courtesy of the Marvelous M

2010-09-16T19:22:00.000-04:00

I just commented on M's blog and told her that she's going to be a guest Blog of Shame award writer one of these days. She's captured the emotion and horror that we all feel reading some of the blogs that are out there in cyberspace.

Thanks M.

Think You've Seen It All?

2010-09-09T09:30:00.000-04:00

Check out this lovely bit of vomitrociousness.

For Pete's sake, and once we all became defogged we thought Cabbage Patch Kids were offensive?

Blooming

2010-09-07T18:50:00.000-04:00

Seven years ago on this coming Sunday, the twelfth, my afather died. As I've written about before, every year on that date (or the nearest weekend) my family gets together and plants flowers and takes pictures of all of us surrounding the grave.

Creepy. Or, I should say, it creeps me out now to think about it. What's funny is that after he died, when I'd thought I'd forgiven him for being "inappropriate" with me when I was a little girl, I'd go to the cemetery every chance I'd get. I'd water his flowers religiously, loving how my mother would say, "Your dad would be so proud of you".

Now, I want to take a can of black spray paint and write "Child Molester" across the lighthouse tombstone that I had found for his grave. It's taken me over a year of therapy and many sleepless nights to get to this point, but I'm here.

My asister called me at work today...here's the conversation:

Me: Hi, this is Christina...

C: Hey, it's your sister...bad time?

Me: Nope..just staring at this godforsaken spreadsheet, willing it to implode on itself.

C: giggles I see...sounds exciting..haha. So, Mom asked me to call you about Sunday.

Me: thinking and feeling a bit panicky

C: She said that she is pretty sure you weren't going to want to go to the cemetery this year.

Me: Yeah, that's pretty much where I'm at. I mean, if you guys are going out afterwards, we could probably meet for lunch or something.

C: That's what I figured. And, I don't blame you at all. Because it's Sunday this year I can't go because of church (my sister is a minister and has to preach on Sundays). Chris, I have to tell you, I'm a little surprised that you'd even come for lunch...since he'd be talked about, you know?

Me: I think I'd be okay. Emotionally...physically I can't do the cemetery but I should be okay for lunch.

C: Do you want to give yourself a day to think about it? See if you change your mind?

Me: laughs Well, I do have my therapy appointment tomorrow night...

C: Perfect!!! Talk it over and see what comes up. I'll tell Mom that I talked to you and you're going to think about it. No need to tell her that you're waiting til you talk to your therapist...

Me: Hahaha..yeah., good point.

More chitchat and then we ended the call.

Most of you reading this, well aside from the "Meanie Haters" and those who haven't joined me as minions yet, know how HUGE this is for me. I am finally speaking up for myself...I'm finally able to verbalize what I need. I've never been able to do that. My friend at work knows my whole story and after hearing what was said between me and my sister said, "Holy shit Christina, I feel like throwing you a party!!! That's awesome!"

::tosses confetti:: You're all invited ;)

Have You Ever Said This?

2010-09-05T10:01:00.000-04:00

I'm linking from The Declassified Adoptee's (Amanda <3) blog today, because I think it explains an adoptee's angst much more eloquently than I could...lol...and probably more nicely too.

"But You Don't Know What It's Like!"

Coffee Talk With Christina: Part One

2010-09-04T20:49:00.000-04:00

Way back on August 6, I was ~~whining endlessly~~ lamenting the fact that I was experiencing writer's block. I asked for some help and I'm finally getting around to taking the time to answer the commenters' questions.

Diane, from An-Ya asked me the following (her words are italicized):

"Tell me about you when you were 10. Not quite a little girl...not yet a teen...what were your dreams? Did those dreams come true? Did your dreams change as you entered your teen years? If so, why did they change?"

I was an odd child. All through my childhood, I was strange. Never comfortable in my own skin...embarassed when people noticed me. Fifth grade was no different. I had the stupidest hair cut...ever. And my glasses...well, let's just say, I don't call them "ugly ass glasses" for nothing.

Don't believe me? Take a look at this picture. Second row, second in from the left.

It's okay, you can laugh. Hell, I can laugh now. But back then, I knew I was ugly...knew that I didn't fit in. Knew that my teacher hated me...but that there was nothing I could do about it. I loved the Fall and the Spring when I could escape to the woods and climb trees and make up stories of how I was actually a princess that was being help captive, far from my family and castle. THAT was my dream. That one day, my family would come looking for me and save me from the misery that was my life...a dungeon from which there was no escape.

My dream didn't come true until two years ago. July 11, 2008..the day of first contact with my natural mother. On that day, I was freed from the dungeon.

"If you could travel back in time and talk to yourself...what would you say? What words would you use to comfort your 10 year old self?"

I spend a lot of my therapy sessions comforting my five year old and eight year old selves. I am learning how to give them the love that I lacked from my adoptive parents...and to help them see that I can keep them safe now. That it's 2010 and everything that happened, happened in the past...it's over. I'd tell my 10 year old self to hold on. That one day, she's going to grow up and have friends to talk to and to love her. That it doesn't matter whether the teacher likes her, or teases her for her stutter. None of that matters...because I love her. And I haven't forgotten about her and the pain, loneliness and abuse she's going through.

"10 years old was a hard age for me. I am interested in how it played out for you...and anyone else who is reading along."

Every age was hard for me. Not trying to be a smartass here...it's just how it was. Oddly enough, I don't really have many "memories" of those years, per se. I just remember how I felt. Empty.

Anyone else want to share on the questions that Diane asked me? Feel free to use this as a jumping off point to discuss.

Thanks Diane...I'll be answering the other questions from that post in the coming days.

Not Only Mean But Crazy

2010-09-03T17:57:00.000-04:00

You, yes you...my readers...are mean. Not only are you all mean, you're crazy. And you are ALL my personal minions. No, really..you are.

Because SHE said so.

I feel like I should give myself a title..."ringleader" just doesn't roll off the tongue.

Yup..clearly she's right..and I'm wrong. I have no idea what I'm talking about...and neither do any of you.

I'm not an adoptee either, right? And she didn't really say that she wasn't going to encourage M to enter rehab before M handed over her child to her and her wife?

Sigh.

A lovely quote from the linked post...

"These people (meaning all of us mean, crazy, disturbed people who have nothing better to do than bother this poor woman) have only served to make me want to advocate for adoption all the more! All of them are really lucky to never have suffered the devastation of infertility, miscarriage, or adoption disruption. It makes it easy for them to judge people they know nothing about."

Ummmm...try being adopted and being out of the fog. It's no picnic either sweetheart.

Ummm, What About Adoptees?

2010-09-02T07:22:00.000-04:00

This blogger has put out a question to her readers..specifically her adoptive parent readers on what insensitve comments people have made to them and how they respond since there's another side of things apart from what "birthmothers" hear.

See, there's another side that she doesn't mention. The adoptees' side. It's not just natural mothers or adoptive parents who have comments hurled at them that hurt.

And while I know I've blogged about that before, I'm blogging about it again.

For example, after being found by my natural mom, I received comment after comment about how angry I should be that she disrupted my life. They wouldn't ask me how I was feeling about it, just asked, "Oh, how is your mother doing?". Literally, that was the first thing people said. Yeah, because my world hasn't just been shaken to the core or anything..::big ass eye roll::.

They say, "How can you love someone who'd just give you up to someone else like that?" but in the next breath say, "Adoption is wonderful for everyone, all of the time". It's hypocritical, don't you think?
"You could have been aborted..isn't it better that you were adopted into a family?" First of all, everyone on the planet could have been aborted. And second of all, yes..I was adopted into a family, but most of the people who say that have no idea of what that family life was like for me or my adoptive sister.

"Aren't you grateful to your parents?" If by grateful you mean that I'm thankful they didn't kill me? Then yes. They had the good grace to keep me alive. But if by grateful you mean that I should be grateful for them saving me from a horrible life with my natural family, then no. I'll never be grateful for that.

"Heritage and biology don't matter..it's love." This irks me too. How many of you have had family tree projects in school? And how many of you have had to lie on those projects and put down names and relations and the countries they came from..only to feel like a fraud after the project was done. And how many of you have had to consistently write "Adopted ~ N/A" on medical forms your entire life because you have no idea what diseases may run in your family.

My adoptive mother once said to me, "Oh, you'd better get that checked out, XYZ runs in our family."

Yeah Mom, about that...

No Unicorns Allowed...Meanies Unite!

2010-08-31T21:53:00.002-04:00

Hi..my name is Christina.

(altogether now) Hi Christina!

I'm probably one of those meanies that you are afraid of. And before you go jumping the gun and automatically assuming (you know what happens when you "assume" right?) that I'm a birthmother-who-was-forced-to-give-up-her-baby-but-things-are-different-now-don't-you-know...I'm not.

I'm an adoptee.

I speak for myself...I have my own opinions...and sometimes my comments get deleted off of blogs because my voice doesn't count. ::shrug::

Oh, here's the comment that wasn't allowed on this post that was discussing using the term "birthmother", by the way:

@David and Amy...I'm sure that my adoptive parents said that their love for me was perfect as well. And I suppose that in their eyes, it was a perfect love. But you're right, you DON'T know my situation...and let me tell you, my childhood was hell. Again though, even if my childhood had been full of and unicorns and ponies and puppies, I STILL would have rathered to have had my natural mother and my natural family in my life. That's just my personal experience..and I'm not trying to speak for anyone else.

A woman DOESN'T stop being a mother after they give up their child. They carried that baby for nine months, nurtured the baby with food and comfort and love. And to say that doesn't make someone a mother sounds very righteous and spoken like a true martyr, in my opinion. I should know..my adoptive mother would have said the SAME EXACT THING. You say you spent 8 1/2 years trying to figure out what a mother is...I've spent 36 years of my ENTIRE LIFE trying to figure out the SAME THING..and I am so glad that I can say that, for myself, my natural mother has ALWAYS been a mother to me, even though we were separated for 34 of those years.

(By the way, I think it's rude when people use caps lock when commenting on someone's post, but that's just me.)

@Sterling..Thank you for your email that you sent me, I'm in the process of responding. I have to admit that I wasn't expecting it, but I appreciate you taking the time to write me to explain your thinking.

The blog author, after I told her that I thought it was distasteful that she allowed flippant humor about adoption through, but deleted my comments, told me that she'd emailed my comments to the people I was addressing in the above paragraphs. She then asked me if I was referring to Ashley's comment on her blog being flippant and I said:

You don't need to delete it...but yes, I was referring to Ashley's comment.

I guess I'm just used to having a free forum on my blog where discussions can be had without comments being deleted. I need to remember that not everyone feels the same.

By the way everyone, this was the part of Ashley's comment that I specifically took offense to...

"Seriously, how lucky am I to have someone loving my daughter so much??? Poor people who haven't adopted. I've got twice as much mommy love going toward my daughter. Neiner neiner neiner...".

If it's mean of me to call someone out for being rude (not to mention the fact that she spelled "Neener Neener Neener" incorrectly), then I'm proud to wear that title. I'll add it to the list.

And if someday I get banned from someone's clubhouse for speaking my mind...then pass the cold risotto because by God, I'll eat all of it.

Let Me Introduce...

2010-08-30T19:26:00.000-04:00

Keeper.

I was going through some random Photobucket pictures, specifically searching for "Speak No Evil" photos and I came across the below image. It is haunting me tonight because it really does look like an older version of my eight year old self...aka Keeper. In my therapy sessions, I've described Keeper as having very piercing eyes, but no mouth. Here she is:

Out of the Fog

The Best of Intentions

Oh Dear

A Christmas Miracle!

Dismissal

Dear Dads

Backlash

A Must Read

Five: Holy Crap, Really? *Updated*

Who's Got The Power?

Dear Mother Nature...

Clarification

Leaving Him In The Dust

Connections

Friends

Totally Gutted Tonight

The Cruelest Month

March...July...September...December

Four: Holy Crap, Really?

Beautiful Mourning

Remembering

Resting In Pieces

Calm, Cool and Cat Hair Free

First Day of School Daze

On The Brink

Three: Holy Crap, Really?

Blustery

Bands of Craptasticness

Battened Hatches

Two: Holy Crap, Really?

One: Holy Crap, Really?

Slight Delay

Name Change

Speed Bump

Humbled

Blogs of Shame Posts

Do You Believe Us Now?

This, That and The Other Thing

Storm The Castle

Ummmm...Clearly Posting Isn't THAT Hard...

Highs And Lows

My First Post At Lost Daughters

The Day-That-Must-Not-Be-Named

Lost Daughters ~ Spread The Word

Like A Brand New Hoover...

Good News and Horrible News

Mercury Rising

Poking My Head Back In

Well, There You Go Then

Wearing Someone Else's Genes

Coffee Talk: Part Four

So Funny I Forgot To Laugh

Crappy Analogy or Plain Stupidity?

Get Out The Barf Bag

Anyone Want To Contribute?

Next Time I'm Hitting Delete Immediately

30 Days of Truth ~ Day Nine

30 Days of Truth: Day Eight

30 Days of Truth ~ Day Seven

30 Days of Truth ~ Day Six

"I Love Adoption" ::thud::

30 Days of Truth ~ Day Five

30 Days of Truth ~ Day Four

30 Days of Truth ~ Day Three

30 Days of Truth ~ Day Two

30 Days of Truth ~ Day One

In A Nutshell

Where'd It Go??? And An Update On Me

Coffee Talk with Christina : Part Three

Live With No Regrets

My Christmas Present

The Waiting Game...Again

S.O.S.

Yup, It's Quarter End

Okay, Okay...I Get It *Updated*

Dad?

Well, Thank Goodness THAT'S Over

Little Girl Lost

What Is An Object?

Stormy Fear

Five: Holy Crap, Really? Updated

Okay, Okay...I Get It Updated