Ok, the shock is polarized, and the shock does not wear off, it has to be processed.
Adoptees have been shocked. After nine months with a woman, we have been shocked into the reality that our Mama did this to us. And that she probably did not even realize, and may never realize the extent of the damage such move could do to a child make from her. It is extremely deep, for me. Many of us, have had to go through this shock, alone, I know I did. And I did not dare share my feelings growing up, or I may get the same from the new woman who’s called Mother. Mama did not do a thing for Mama Jeans reputation the day she relinquished me. There are not many Adoptive Parents out there that get that we have been shocked, left, abandoned by the one we love who is our Mama, nor do they get that we could grief her loss. Our Mama’s are not figments of our New Mama’s imagination about who we truly are after it’s all said and done.
Grief for an Adoptee is just not on the radar of the new Parents, mainly the New Mama. She’s just not that tuned in, and science shows that. My cells live in my own Mama’s brain, and she cut off our life line, or so she thinks. Mama’s back in the sixties just did not realize that the children they relinquished even had a connection to them. My own Mama still struggles to understand the deep bond I feel with her, to this day. And she does not realize how unhealthy a bond it is we have, and how speaking truthfully and honestly can help us move on from this now bag of bones.
As an Adoptee, I have had to carry my shock within simply for lack of anyone who could even comprehend that I was shocked. As an Adoptee I have had to be silent about my shock for a long time. Maybe I am like you? And maybe I am not. But I was shocked, like cold water splashed into my little infant face with the reality that a Mama can do this to the child that so needs her and loves her. I have been shocked..
Mothers are ambassadors, hostesses for their children, teachers, coaches, and hopefully friends. My own Mama chose not to show up to work, and it had a most profound affect on my whole being, mind, body, and spirit. And I was grieved to such a depth, that it took me years to draw up the poison to expel it here. It cut at my own self image, a self image that needed all it could have to be a good Mother. And I grew up feeling so lacking being in a house of people who were strange to me. I was not comfortable growing up. And I trusted really no one, but myself.
And Mamas actions had this profound affect on me, that was my reaction from her action. Nothing made sense, nothing felt right, nothing was ok. And the thought of thriving without Mama just seemed to cut at my core. Her memory deserved my grief, I loved her immensely. And always had a secret sorrow and dissatisfaction with life because she left me with these strangers that acted strange and thought me strange too.
But blogging my shock has opened the window for my grief process to progress. I am grateful that I made it to the place to be able to share my story at all. I can’t get a new story without letting the old story out. I feel my story and the narrative of a woman waking up to the grief that has been chasing her give the content to those who know me as to why I am a bit strange or different. And its hard to express grief, especially for Adoptees that most times don’t even get grief counseling and support for a loss that is not even seen or validated. In the 60’s and now, there are many who believe that children don’t have cellular memories from the womb. My Mama seems to not believe science and research that is now available online for all to see. And I get it. I imagine to agree with what I say means that she was not as aware as she thought she was at the time of my Adoption. And that is a hard pill for many Mothers who have relinquished to swallow. Its hard to realize that you have been deceived. And its easier to stay in the bubble of your own narrative to protect yourself and go on.
What I ask of my Mama is a huge thing. I know the cost, she risks it all to do what I ask of her. And not all woman who have relinquished can scale that wall and jump into the arms of a now strange child, grown, and truly believe it can be ok at long last. The mental adjustment is huge and you must throw out all you have known about Mother to do what I ask of her. It is a quest. And it is a test. Its a test I am willing to take, just to be with her. It can’t really be any crazier than living without her, its just different.
You know society expects Moms to be bullet proof and above falling flat on their faces. As a Mama myself, I do realize this fact, and have worked to own my short fallings with each of my children. For me, who did not even get that respect and an apology for wounding me, or hurting my feelings growing up, and now not even getting respect from my own Mama. I have fallen flat on my face in realization that I needed way more information to be a better Mama. And I had to learn about that from books and from Good god fearing people who took the time to help me.
Like most Mama’s I passed what was given to me on to my children and many of the things I passed to them were not good parenting skills and abusive. Children bring out of you only what was poured into you, and I was filled with some manipulative, controlling, abusive nonsense. You guess where I learned that? It hurt me to the bone to realize that I was even capable of being so hurtful. Words fly out when you least expect it, and they cut both ways, especially when you know the mark you set your life for and you fail. Its like our Mama’s slap us, so we slap our children, its just what happens, its passed down again and again. The pattern continues unless we take a moment to internalize and see how it felt to us when our Mama’s slapped us with their truth.
Most of the abuse I received was verbal and very undetectable to strangers. I am sure teachers wonder why I was so strange growing up. And its like not knowing your walking around naked or something. And when you move away and meet people that are not controlling and truly want your highest good? You begin to realize just how you were treated. I have felt very limited in that way. I work daily to be more aware of myself and my actions. I feel like I was just not shown a healthier way, or struggled against what was modeled to me. Like a bad habit its hard to quit, its all you know. Thank God for books and God.
Here is an example of a pain I have:
Like, ok, I sit down to read to Mama Jean the other day. I had written a piece that I felt was quite good and made some sense. So I sat down and read the post to her, thinking my writing might at last be praise worthy. She sat in her recliner, and just keep looking at her iPad, that I gave her, and played her game, she occasionally looked up at the television. And when I was done? Said not a word to me about it. She did not even look up at me, I felt so alone. Kind of like a fool, to think anything had changed. It was like I was talking to myself. I questioned her about her behavior and she told me I was being ridiculous, she always tells me that and it is so de-validating, and really hurts my feelings. I am starting to feel numb from it. And my son feels I am very lenient about how she act towards us all. Mama Jean does not like my son. He seems to see through her bullshit and it does not daunt him in the least.
I feel so naughty for even typing all this. That is how controlled I have felt growing up. And don’t feel sorry for me. I mean people get controlled all the time, but it’s not a normal practice among families with healthy relationships. And Mama wanted to know whats up with me, so I gave it to her. And now she calls me a lier, Oh, yeah. I came onto the internet, where everyone can read this and lie. But Mama does not think like this I guess or she is like this herself? She’s not talking to me, so I guess she expects me to figure it out like Mama Jean did, on my own. And that is not a real good relational practice either. Cutting your relinquished child off as she bares her heart before the world is a bit cruel. But, thats Adoption for ya!
I remember growing up and needing help with a word and was finding it hard to look the word up in the dictionary and Mama Jean would say, ” Go look it up.”, and I would say, ” I can’t find it, can you help me?”. She would not. She wondered why I never did well in school? And yet had a high intellect score? It’s deep this wound of mine with her. And its not for lack of trying all day. And to have a conversation with the woman would be nice. But she does not know anything about what I am interested in and does not even try to.
Guess I am ungrateful to want a better relationship with the woman my Mama sent me too? yeah, I am just a bitch. Whats upsetting with Mama jean is nothing I do helps, she’s just floating on her own boat. My son even sees it. He wants me to do something about it. And I am like what? Ive been trying for years to stand up for myself and that woman, well, its twisted. And I am not happy to write that. I am loyal, but she can’t get to my heart, not like that. But I am tired of being taken for granted. At 55, finally, I speak out for myself. And does my own Mama give a shit?
Thanks Adoption. For making me invisible.
I sometimes wonder if Abortion is better? Just kill us so our spirits can come back to another who wants us. Instead of being some womans second chose. Instead of being some woman thrift store bargain, only some woman get how valuable we are. Because her first choice was to conceive.
I was a fool to think my own Mama was different. But I guess Adoption makes fools of us all, as we hold on for dear life to the memory of a woman we came from and wait to search to only find our Mama’s gagged and deaf to us. And it is emotionally hard to grow up so dismissed. And I felt dismissed. Does a dollar sign make me valuable? Did giving me away make me more valuable to someone who did not have to pay the price to birth me?
Grief, lets talk about grief. Its time to let it all hang out.
To state it honestly, the shock will never wear off, until everyone on this planet gets what is done to the child relinquished.