Every single day…

17Jan

By TAO

My mother was asked by someone fairly close to her, if she still thought about me after all this time. The title was the immediate answer. Stop and think about what that means to a mother. To me, it means that not only did she think about me, she would have wondered if I was okay, healthy, happy, sad, alive. I can only begin to imagine the level of pain she lived with because without knowledge, I doubt that she would think only good thoughts, not have any worries about the life I was living, rather, they would include if I was living, what my new family was like, was I loved, was I okay. I compare her words with the length of time I thought of my son every single day – before I had days, and then weeks go by – without thinking about my son. That transition happened long before the first decade had passed, and having lived through that, I can’t imagine the pain that stretched decades, day in, day out, no relief, no forgetting. It’s incomprehensible, and makes tears roll down my face just thinking about it.

That’s the ugly side of adoption. The grief, the loss, the never-ending pain. If her truth had been she thought of me from time to time, around my birthday, holidays, that would have been accepted without question, or judgement, because of their relationship, a relationship that allowed complete honesty – instead she said – every single day.

How can anyone expect the child, the adult adoptee in the center of that – to only see the positive side of adoption. To not want to see family preservation when possible? To not feel the pain? To not see how to a greater, or lesser degree, that pain extends to every member of the family – the grandparents, aunts, uncles, and the circle that spirals out to encompass the entire family – that lost one of their own.

Adoption has its place – to find a good home for a child who needs a home – but there is a price, and that price should never be levied – unless it truly needs to be.

Sorry for the late reply. I am sad that is where you are at now, I hope that things get better. Perhaps the loyalty factor to his family played a role – perhaps not though, whatever it was that has created the distance I hope it resolves itself. Hugs

My mother said the same thing last year…and I feel a pull not just from her but from the family as well…and she doesn’t want to talk about it…I’ve spent my whole life living with the confusion of who am I…I have gone through the fear and agony of going from unknown to Yes this is Me…and she doesn’t want to talk about it. She’s dying…my best friend died this past week she was very ill and I was not able to see her. and it had been Nov. the the last time so I’m grieving this right now and it dawns on me …that this is an exquisite opportunity to practice saying good bye to my mother as well. It is my job now to take care of Little me . And while I understand my mothers pain (because I do not fault her in any way…she did what she needed to do)… though as the adult I need to protect little me and the fact is that she, my mother, doesn’t want to talk about this and I cannot take away her pain.

Your post is wonderful and it is what allowed me to find theses words and post…

Lesley – I’s so sorry for your loss and that your mother is ill too. Saying goodbye is hard and as hard as it is, I am also glad you have had time with your mother, that is a gift. Sometimes there is no way to remove the pain, it just is.

I can relate to “every single day.” For me its not a choice that I consciously make. It is similar to the thoughts you would have about your child while out of sight and at school during the day. The main difference is that the biological mother does not get to check in with their now adopted chid at the end of everyday, so the worry carries from day to day.

We struggle with the question all the time. How to talk about adoptions that are sometimes necessary–but at the same time, pointing out the huge cost to the original family and the child. As someone above said, even in an open adoption, there is little solace to be found.

My sister directly under me in age once told me my mother mourned my loss, they always knew when my birthday was near because my mother was inconsolable. My mother and I have spoken about her feelings often over the years, we have such different views over her giving me up. I am very much a pragmatist, knowing she did the only thing possible. She knows she did what she had to do, this knowing does not change her pain.

Val, pragmatist is a good term. I know realistically there wasn’t any other real choice. I also know more about what options they seriously looked at and why they weren’t feasible – the gift of finally knowing my story. Pain is part of life – sometimes it seems like some get far more than their fair share of it. Hugs…

Quotes

“I have learned that to be with those I like is enough”
― Walt Whitman

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Oct 2014: You may speak freely, but please try to use words that everyone can hear about your individual story or view. If you don't, those who can actually benefit won't hear it, I want to see change in my lifetime. I may refuse to approve certain comments.

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