Mama.

I want you to watch the help. Listen to it. Watch what skeeter did. My people. The adopted need my truth to set them free.

I am free now. Because I have told my truth. But every adoptee should be free to express their truth from their experience. Our truth is valid too. Your truth is valid. Only if you share it. How can Jesus turn our water into wine if we don’t even believe?

Aibee said, that telling her truth helped her feel free. Just like slavery. This must stop. We no not what we do, but I do. And my people do. Stand with me! So we can set them free. It’s the least you can do. And is the most you can do for me. Your child.

This end with me. Till my last breath and someone else carries on. Adoption-like it is- must go. And I will be at the front line!! And am. Piercing this veil must happen. Many suffer under an old way, and old idea that send children into a mental hell I wouldn’t sent anyone into.

Watch the help and listen to Eugenia’s Mama talk about courage. The courage to change it.

Watch. It’s time. I’m here. Waiting. My hand is stretched out. Take it.

This morning.

I woke up crying again.

Missing my kid.

Turned around.

Upset.

This is the life of an adoptee trying to grieve a loss no one really saw. Not really even my kids. They saw it growing up. How I would get upset and seemed so distant at times. It was this. Living in a world where a Mama can do this.

Giving me away was bad enough. But when I came back to have a second look, to see, with my own eyes, whom I came from, I have been riveted. She wasn’t any better? She gave her problem away. And the problem just came back is how she treated me. Her baby a problem?

As soon as I medicate, the tears stop. And I can think of. Happier things. And I don’t really like that? I really would like to be ok on my own and maybe after all this garage is out, I will.

The only second chance I see is for me. I must get this right. And make this right for me. Mama Jeans not paying anymore for what my Mama did. Mama can own what she did, or just keep living in the dark. But I can see now that I’ve said it out loud.

Mama Linda hated being pregnant with me. She only had enough sense to not kill me? Or did she? I am not sure. Part of me says, she did try to kill me. Part of me does not want to believe it.

As sick as I was as a baby. I think she did. Want me dead. But she did not get that. And it sucks that she even went there. But shit happens. She was in a bad place. To bad.

As I go through this. And as flashback from days gone by wash over me, I can see why people just go crazy? With no support system how can they not? I am glad Mama Jean showed up. And commuted to me. It is her love that shows me my Mamas truth best. It’s her encouragement that grounds me. Mama Linda just doesn’t get what that is.

And that’s it. I am done with her and my sisters. I am done holding on to a dream that’s only a nightmare to they. I give it to god. I want to be done with this energy. So I am writing it all here. I’ll leave it for others finding their way. Maybe it can validate someone else and save them from the suicide that haunts many Adoptees. Maybe my pain will validate theirs and they will know they are not alone.

Thanks for diving deep with me.

To my family

This blog is not about you. Even though I talk aBout you. It’s about me. Ok? Yeah. Me.

And I need to get closure. I need closure about my Mama. And no one wants to talk to me and help me work it out. Counselors don’t help.

Your actions perplex me. So I blog about it. You did not want to give me an audience, and that’s your right. And I have the right to work it out on my own. This is how I am doing it.

If your upset, don’t blame me. I am just a person who’s trying to work it out as best I can. This box doesn’t fit. And I need to work it out.

You all were to busy to take the time for me so I need to write about it. So I figured here was best. Where all can see. So folks can learn. Because my truth is valid. My perspective is of value if we can look at the cold hard facts that I present.

Ok. If I really liked Adoption. If I really enjoyed my Mama just giving me to the first person who shows up. Then why would I even give a shit about you? Adoption says your nothing to me. Adoption said my Mama was just a donor. If that is true for adoption, then it’s true for all. Mothers are donors or Mothers are more than donors.

So. Be mad. No one told you not to be. But think about what and who you are really mad at. Me? Or a world that could blindfold you so well that you think you can see. Who’s for you. Me? Who told the truth? Or the world that lies to your face?

But I am ok if your out. Like it’s ok if my kitchens to hot for ya. I am not in short supply of friends and family. They love me for me. And you all, well don’t.

This is a big bridge I am burning here. And if my family can’t get it? Well, I mean I’ve spelled it out a millions times. They just can’t figure out what I am saying and I am tired. I really wanted this to get straightened out. But I have no more time for that.

Mama Jean said Chelsie want me to stop talking about Gramma. And I’d love to ablidge. But change is coming. And I will be on the front lines telling my tales so folks can see what we the adoptees see and experiences. Reform is difficult. As you can see, and my family is no different, people hate change and love comfort. Ok. Keep your old way.

Just don’t come crying to me. Ok. Don’t come to me at all. Just forget all I said. Why should I cast my pearls before a swine. You don’t deserve me. You just don’t.

And Mama Jean does. Your right Mama. So fucked up. Just so fucked up right now. I just am shocked and in denial that my Mama is like this? That this is the family I came from? Wow!

And they want to say I am a bad mom? And keep my baby from me? Great. Just great.

Good night. I so need some good dreams to come my way. This is a nightmare. Looking at people that share my DNA and experiencing how they treat me because I got a bit upset and frustrated because they don’t see me. They have excluded me. I mean if my Mama is going on Mother daughter weekends and I am not invited? There is an issue.

It sucks to be me. It sick to see the truth beyond all that folks told me. Thanks Adoption for not making me grow up with this. I see. I see. Some Mamas just don’t deserve a second chance I guess?

Madonna said this one thing that sticks.

When she lost her children and mother and father in a Christmas fire in her own home after presents were opened, baked goods where made, and all were in bed, she ended up in a hospital. And after tests and counseling, they said this one this, ” she’s just sad” (my paraphrase) and I think to myself, “ya think?”

They did this and they did that. But nothing could bring her back except her. And time. Grief is an energy that has to be processed and accepted.

I’ve grieved for years in secret. And no more. It’s not healthy. But what could I do? Risk the family I had to speak up? Would they listen? Would they love me Enough to take me Home? How could I dahs their dreams? And yet my dreams lay on the rocks. What did my Mama want me to do? Why did she send me here?

But that the thing. Mamas not dead. We lost each other. Yes. But now we are found. We were blind. But now we see. Why do we sing such song and can’t even get them and practice what we sing?

Mama was blind to my struggle. She knew. Deep down. But denied it was true. I just burst her bubble and she’s got 20-20 vision now. She sees what she felt. And it hits her buttons. It lights her up. Well, of course it does. She’s my Mama. She’s just rusty. About caring for me. She does it without thinking and yet her brain tells her this and that. But when I show up. It’s all over here. She loves me and just doesn’t understand.

So I have to explain it. And it’s daunting. And time consuming to educate your Mama about you. She’s different than I remember. Back then she was a fireball of energy. Today she’s strum and rigid. I wish she could loosen up. I mean she can’t get pregnant now? So why feel bad about me? Why keep us here where we have been for years, just in secret. When can I come out? When is it safe enough for you to love me Mama? When?

My Mama challenges my feelings.

Feeling are feelings. My feelings were intense and very challenging to withstand. My

Body did not like being separated from my Mama. Not at all. And I was a child. How could I realize at the time that my whole issue was steamed from that most important bond being severed. And severing does not cut clean. Nor does it denote a complete cut.

Because it’s felt like my Mama and me have been gimping about with our hearts torn out. And I am absolutely shocked to see my sisters acting as they do? Shocked? I know Mama. I memorized her. That’s why I am like her. And a lot of her has been hidden from my sisters. But I preserved Mama inside me. Like memorizing scriptures or lyrics. I memorized my Mamas every move. I even have a heart palpitation. My heart skips a beat. Hers does too. That’s what makes her jumpy. It’s scary.

From what I also have seen. Like the good stuff is my Mama has the best kitchen. I’ve worked in many commercial kitchens in my day and Mamas is top knotch. She’s got all the gadgets and bells and whistles. And she beautiful. Just like Mama Jean is but different. More like me. Mama Jean is very extremely amazing at conversation. See? Adoption took that! Damn thing. If we adopt, we should get all of the new families gifts too! Well, maybe I did pick up a few tricks from Mama Jean. She’s pretty sharp.

(That was a stab at sarcasm.) adoption didn’t take that from me. But Mama Jeans got gifts I don’t have and may never have cuz it’s just not in my DNA? Or Maybe I am wrong?

Maybe because I was raised by her I am quite different. I mean I was raised completely differently than Mama would have done. I would not have gone to Jamaica and seen the fire limbo in a club where no children are allowed. But they allowed me in? See, there was fun. But I just couldn’t share it with Mama. That sucked. I stood on a water fall at the invitation of the owner, because our driver was a friend. I ran my hand over the sleeping grass to make it lay down. I found a conch shell on the beach!! And swam in the ocean. Our driver, Shack took care of me like I was his sister. I haggled with the merchants and scared Mama Jean half to death because I wandered off and tried to buy something myself. Lol. Oh Mama Jean had her work cut out for her. Jamaica was amazing. I was ten when I went. And I remember and cherish that trip always. It was the last trip my parents would take with me before divorcing. And life was still good.

Loosing my Dad to divorce poked at my wounded heart. I missed him so much and it reminded me of Mama. How much I missed her. My Dad was good to me.

It’s not that life is so bad. It’s just that we can’t share it with the one we came from. And that’s a natural thing that’s cut out when your adopted and I value that.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Convention_on_the_Rights_of_the_Child

The fact that United States has not included itself in the signing of this convention tells me why it’s so hard to be heard. Our rights are not valued in America. Children are still slaves here.

On the page from the link below it’s states a child’s right. And the top right is access to both parents! We have t agreed to this by signing. So America is in the dark ages about children. Go figure.

Adoptions cuts a child off from that. I bet one fundamental right as a citizen of this planet? Seriously. This needs to change and now. I am the daughter of a woman I love very much and would like to be able to express that love to her. Could you all update? Do we that journey home can come home to a sane woman with her wits about her.

Update needed-

Adopted kids care about their families and their Mamas- honor that.

Put your damn dreams down and look at your child and see an orphan for god sake. Treat them as such. They are wounded.

Fairytales don’t make sense. Don’t tell them.

Hard facts are easier to help us ground into what is not what you wish was. Ok?

Be kind to adopts. They e lost all they had at birth or beyond. That’s a lot to deal with.

Parents teach for kids about other kinds of people so they don’t freak out and stick their foots into their mouths talking to us. Because, for me at least? I’ll shove that back in their mouths and make them bite their tongue so they remember not to go their with me again.

Why don’t teachers read adoption books. I’ll write some real ones so adopted kids can get the facts and not candy coated shit stories that go nowhere and help no one.

Stop talking smack about our Mamas behind closed doors where you kids who are young and have no filter can take them and throw them on us. Ok? We have enough on our plate as it is. Dealing with your ignorant child is not helping. Be sensitive. Be aware. We don’t need your pity. We need your encouragement to keep going on when we lost it all to start and are having to build again. K?

Be nice to my Mama. Don’t talk behind her back. She been through enough. Stop lying to her and saying it ok. Tell her it’s not. That reuniting with me is her best beat. It’s the only one she’s not tried. I am a sure bet.

Not all adoptee are as outspoken as me. I owe that to my Mamas. They made my life happen. And it’s complicated, this life. But with education, lots of research, we can find a better way and see the dawn of a new day. They surely did not imagine us being here.

But I say, “of course we would be here, but let’s not stay, let’s clean this up and make room for better days and better ways”.

These are a few updates that help.

Adoptees are the researchers of adoption. We lived it. And I for one know we can do better by children.