A Ramble of Missorts

© Photographer: Poresh | Agency: Dreamstime.com
I'm having one of those days....feeling down, disappointed with my little adopted self. Angry.

Even though I love my Mom very much, alot of what she does grates on me, like chalk on a chalkboard. And I feel guilty for that. I have these great intentions, so I call her last night to go with us to a Jewish Festival today - camel rides, petting zoo, Israeli music, food, the whole works.

But THEN, when we are together I'm a totally different person. Too mean for even myself, being the people-pleasing to get accepted adoptee that I am. Or was. ????

Sure, she says and does things that bother me - but shouldn't I be used to that - and haven't I made the decision to just "blow it off" like always? Why do I feel I need to punish her or myself when we are together. I put all my attention on my son now. I guess I feel like he deserves all the attention that used to go on taking care of her, emotionally. Being the "daughter" I was. What is even harder, is she knows what is going on, and has just accepted it. I'm not the "good adopted daughter" anymore, holding on for dear life. But I don't know what I've become, either.

She is very possessive of my son. It feels like we are in a jealous competition or something, and it makes me feel uncomfortable. "Are you Grandma's boy or Mama's boy?" she continually asks him. Then she will make little comments when she calls, like, "I miss my baby - well I miss you too, but I really miss my baby." It feels like a jab.
Why can't she just shut up and not say anything??? Like me.

I know none of this post even makes sense.....this one is just for me, I guess. And probably sounds horrid.

OK - now for the meat - why I think I was upset today and acted like a quiet, mean b*#@=.
When I found my natural families I learned that I am of the Jewish heritage. After I called and invited my aMom to the festival today, my husband asked me why I didn't call and invite my Dad (natural father). I told him that I wished he had suggested that earlier, because I would have liked too, but I had already invited Mom. Then I got disappointed. I felt that I had missed an opportunity to be with my natural family - those who I share true Jewish heritage with. But then I get frustrated because I also wish my Dad would have called and invited me - wouldn't that have been neat? So a little adoptee rejection is flairing it's ugly head.

So when we are at the festival all this "true heritage" feeling is rising up, and I'm experiencing inner turmoil, that instead of enjoying this like a normal person, I am having to acknowledge my adoptee status yet again, and it just sucks.

Then as we are leaving my aMom is reading the wall of "donors" who donated money to have the Jewish Center built - and sure enough there are my natural Grandparents names, which she makes a point to mention. Then she mumbled something about "donating" or something, which I ignored. I was feeling sad that my son, their great-grandson, was of the Jewish heritage and he didn't even get to know them (they died the same year he was born), and we are here as outsiders in a world which we should be insiders, if that makes any sense.

Then I realized that ever since my reunion, my poor aMom has had to be the "outsider" that I have felt my entire life. She got tears in her eyes looking at their names on that wall, and I knew she felt that same pain I feel, in a different way.

Then I had this morbid thought - oh, so now my "buyer" (aMom) was talking about my "donor" (natural family). And that wasn't fun, either. Oh, the joys of the fleeting thoughts of an adoptee.

Living in the same city with my afamily and natural family lends itself to days of totally feeling a*@$#-whipped.

In Hiding

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Evelyn Bennett~ wonder what she is doing right now? Just like all "adopted" infants, she is oblivious to the paperwork scramble that took place, the meetings, the court appearances, everything. All because of her. Wow. She just wants her Mommy. She realizes all too silently that the woman who holds her, changes her, plays patty-a-cake, feeds her, etc. is a "nice lady"(maybe), but not her Mommy. It is strange, as an adult adoptee, to think back and realize how carefully I buried the natural feelings, the sheer terror, the memories of those first few days/years in my adoptive home. It is like the real Baby Girl Lowe disappeared, went under wraps, hidden ~ kind of like Evelyn Bennett is right now. Hopefully her name won't be changed, on top of everything else she is losing. Precious moments with her real family. My name was changed ~ with my middle name being Evelyn ~ after my adoptive grandmother. Who I grew to love. Attached quite well to. But who I painfully knew I wasn't a part of. Especially after finding my natural grandmothers in reunion ~ man, was I like them. But then the pain surfaced ~ I was a part of each of them, they were a big part of who I was/am, but yet, I was separated from them my entire life up to that point. I didn't have the natural, comfortable, real granddaughter/grandmother connection, relationship from a child. Because I was transferred out, legally shifted, forever changed. Betwixt and between.

Evelyn Bennett will someday grow up and probably be livid to find out her history. The truth always comes out. Through much secrecy, sealed records, frustration and tears.

One new tactic of adoption brokers (along with "open" adoption) is to stall and delay and prolong each contested adoption, each appeal, so long that the law can be implemented called "best interest". Even if an adoption is proved wrongful, or contested and overturned lawfully, they are adding additional laws which require a separate custody hearing called a "best interest hearing" after the adoption is deemed mute. THEN, because the child was sequestered in the adoptive home for days, months, or years (most likely) the "best interest" card is pulled out, stating that the best interest of the child is to remain with the adoptive family ~ because that is all he/she has ever known. And wouldn't it be tragic, sad, abusive, to remove this innocent child from the only "parents" they have ever known? This is such a farse. Anyone with half a brain can see through the tactic of delays, prolonged appeal processes, etc. This is another necessary tool of the adoption industry because of the lack of infants available for adoption. Coerce, use unethical practices to "get" the baby, and then use unethical appeals processes to "ensure" the child remains "adoptable". We as a society see through this, and demand that lawmakers and Judges be made to change and enforce ethical laws UPFRONT in the adoption process, which protect the child and the mother, the natural family ~ and not the potential adoptors.

Stephanie Bennett was a minor who was encouraged by an adoption agency to "run away" from home so she could sign the adoption papers without the influence or support from her family. A school counselor encouraged this unethical practice. All because her baby, Evelyn, was prime meat in the adoption mill, and her value was worth several thousand dollars in the market that day......even though the courts found the adoption was wrongful, the adoptive family refuses to return the baby to her natural family, who loves and is fighting court battles to have her returned. This is a blatant denial of the legal rights and natural needs of a child and her family.

I pray for Evelyn Bennett and her family ~ for supernatural favor to surround them and bring them together again soon.

Easter Mourning

 

                                   
                                                           

                                         

 As I sit in church this morning feeling sad over disappointments, I realize the great pull of the world's sorrow on the human spirit.

 

 I am reminded of our adoption support meeting yesterday and the amazing blessing of seeing two friends of mine and their newly reunited First Mothers sitting side-by-side. 

 Something almost too precious for words. 

 

 I raise my hands in thanks to my Savior. 

 Just seeing them together, looking so alike, so strangely familiar, is a gift.  Although my reunion with my Mother must wait.

A lady in the church orchestra plays the flute.

I can't take my eyes off of her.

My First Mother, Norma Carol, played this beautiful instrument.

I close my eyes and listen.

 

   Now that which we see is as if we were looking in a broken mirror.

But then we will see everything.

Now I know only a part.

But then I will know everything in a perfect way.

That is how God knows me right now.

 

1 Corinthians 13:12