When I spoke of my mother having voids to fill..... it was more than just having children of her own - something I couldn't help her with obviously. My father's family never really accepted her. She was a country girl, they were city people & saw themselves as better than her. She strived her whole life to gain their respect. She never fully realized, even after they were all dead & gone along with my father, that their respect didn't define her in any way.
I tried to make her understand that as long as she harbored the resentment she felt towards then that she could never be free. I gave her the example of my second failed marriage. My second husband, my oldest daughter's father, was physically & emotionally abusive to me. Threatened to kill me. Told me repeatedly that I was lucky that he'd have me, I was already "used goods" & could never find anyone to want me. When I finally got the courage to leave him, after all the drama & legalities, I put all that behind me. I never dwelled on the damage he had inflicted on me because I understood that by doing that he would win. He would succeed in ruining me as he had intended to do. So I let it go. I didn't let it consume me, I didn't let resentment & bitterness become my companion. That's what she needed to do. She dwelled on the fact that her children were never really hers, that her marriage never became what she wanted, that her husband "held her back from things she wanted to do in life." She was only 61 when she died. She had time to pursue most of the things she'd always wanted in life. Instead she wrapped herself in bitterness & gave in to the void. I can only hope that she is now happy.
Myself, I made the conscious decision to let go of the bad, not harbor resentment, not become bitter - to be happy before I leave this earth. Don't get me wrong. My life's not been any bowl of cherries! After my mother died my 3rd marriage ended because of my husband's bipolar disorder & psychoses that he refused to attend to. The relationship became dangerous for my children & myself. I had wanted to live in Savannah, Ga my whole life. So we moved here.
When we first got here I landed a temp job with the City making a small salary & was receiving no child support because my mentally unstable ex quit his job & opted to go homeless in California. So we were flat broke. I could barely feed us & put a roof over our heads. But I put a bowl of candy @ my desk & smiled & chatted & worked hard. I gained from that. Gained respect of my bosses who quickly made my position permanent so that improved my financial position. Months later my boss learned just what my situation was & had been... he was floored, had no idea. And marveled at my positive attitude through that. I simply explained that had I sat at that desk with a long face & pitiful attitude I wouldn't have made friends or gotten that permanent job! He whole heartedly agreed. Did my life as an adoptee contribute to this strength? Perhaps..... I've learned from an early age to turn lemons into lemonade :)
Friday, November 23, 2007
Later Thoughts on Adoption
So now I'm an adult with my own children. I would never have considered adopting a child out because of my experience. I couldn't stand the idea of perpetuating that legacy to another generation. I know without reservation that my natural mother did what she had to do by putting me up for adoption. I don't blame her or harbor any bad feelings about that. I know that my parents loved me.
But I don't believe adoption to be the alturistic act that most people believe it to be. It's an arrangement that fills the need of the adoptive parents & the adopted child. It usually is the best thing for the child that is adopted because the natural mother/parents, for whatever reason, can't take care of the child. So it is the best option in these cases. Nothing's perfect, right. So I don't have ill feelings about adoption in general, I'm not "anti adoption". I just can't abide by the gushing about how wonderful it is of a couple to take on another woman's child as their own.
The adoptive parents are usually not adopting the child because there's a child that needs parents... it's not a charitable act people. It's filling a need for them just as it's filling a need for the child. They can't have children but want to fulfill the dream. They go to great lengths to adopt a baby, not an older child; try to match looks as closely as possible with their own so the child may look similar to them. This is adoption, not charity personified.
But the difference is the child has no choice, only the adults involved have choices. So the child is at their mercy & just has to make the best of life as it is. Without knowing their roots. That's really a large missing piece for an individual. Not only geneologically speaking but other considerations like medical history, the day to day "why am I like this?" thoughts. The frustration & alienation of being so completely, inately different from their parents, never being understood. Not "misunderstood" in the sense that every teenager feels, deeper than that. Not easily explainable really. But deeply felt.
I really understood just how deep these feelings of alienation were shortly before my mother died a dozen years ago. When she told me how she really felt. My father had died a year earlier. She was depressed & didn't hold back. She told me, ironically enough, that she never felt she had anything that was her own. Her husband had a former wife with whom he had a child. (Short lived WWII marriage, the child always lived in Germany & Daddy had no contact with her until shortly before his death. Another odd experience for another post.) So he wasn't completely hers, he was shared & who she "shared" him with one-upped her by having his child.
She told me how disappointing I was to her. I didn't think like her, look like her, cook like her, etc., I wasn't really hers & I was "shared" with my natural mother. Ditto for my brother, though he didn't get the pleasure of hearing it directly from her like I did. She said he couldn't "handle" it.
So there I had it. I was "taken in" to fill a void, a void I didn't fully fill; at least not to her satisfaction. I told her it hurt me to hear that. I also told her that she wasn't alone in having a void in their life. Even though I found my natural mother, had dinner with both my mothers, there is a void in my life that will never be filled. I don't look to fill it anymore. It is what it is & I made my own life, my own history good & bad, and learned how to fill the lack of family ties with other "chosen" family - great friends.
My mother died, unexpectedly, a week later. She really died of depression because she couldn't see her way clear to accept what was & make the best of it. Her counselor agreed with me on that count. She wanted someone to fill it for her. No one can do that for you. I know many other people feel similar feelings whether adopted or not. You have to fill your own heart by opening it. I'm glad I was able to find my way clear to do that. I don't dwell, I do review & analyze, but I find that to be healthy. You have to know where your base is to be stable, emotionally anyway. You may wish your base was different, but in the long run you have to accept it to go forward.
But I don't believe adoption to be the alturistic act that most people believe it to be. It's an arrangement that fills the need of the adoptive parents & the adopted child. It usually is the best thing for the child that is adopted because the natural mother/parents, for whatever reason, can't take care of the child. So it is the best option in these cases. Nothing's perfect, right. So I don't have ill feelings about adoption in general, I'm not "anti adoption". I just can't abide by the gushing about how wonderful it is of a couple to take on another woman's child as their own.
The adoptive parents are usually not adopting the child because there's a child that needs parents... it's not a charitable act people. It's filling a need for them just as it's filling a need for the child. They can't have children but want to fulfill the dream. They go to great lengths to adopt a baby, not an older child; try to match looks as closely as possible with their own so the child may look similar to them. This is adoption, not charity personified.
But the difference is the child has no choice, only the adults involved have choices. So the child is at their mercy & just has to make the best of life as it is. Without knowing their roots. That's really a large missing piece for an individual. Not only geneologically speaking but other considerations like medical history, the day to day "why am I like this?" thoughts. The frustration & alienation of being so completely, inately different from their parents, never being understood. Not "misunderstood" in the sense that every teenager feels, deeper than that. Not easily explainable really. But deeply felt.
I really understood just how deep these feelings of alienation were shortly before my mother died a dozen years ago. When she told me how she really felt. My father had died a year earlier. She was depressed & didn't hold back. She told me, ironically enough, that she never felt she had anything that was her own. Her husband had a former wife with whom he had a child. (Short lived WWII marriage, the child always lived in Germany & Daddy had no contact with her until shortly before his death. Another odd experience for another post.) So he wasn't completely hers, he was shared & who she "shared" him with one-upped her by having his child.
She told me how disappointing I was to her. I didn't think like her, look like her, cook like her, etc., I wasn't really hers & I was "shared" with my natural mother. Ditto for my brother, though he didn't get the pleasure of hearing it directly from her like I did. She said he couldn't "handle" it.
So there I had it. I was "taken in" to fill a void, a void I didn't fully fill; at least not to her satisfaction. I told her it hurt me to hear that. I also told her that she wasn't alone in having a void in their life. Even though I found my natural mother, had dinner with both my mothers, there is a void in my life that will never be filled. I don't look to fill it anymore. It is what it is & I made my own life, my own history good & bad, and learned how to fill the lack of family ties with other "chosen" family - great friends.
My mother died, unexpectedly, a week later. She really died of depression because she couldn't see her way clear to accept what was & make the best of it. Her counselor agreed with me on that count. She wanted someone to fill it for her. No one can do that for you. I know many other people feel similar feelings whether adopted or not. You have to fill your own heart by opening it. I'm glad I was able to find my way clear to do that. I don't dwell, I do review & analyze, but I find that to be healthy. You have to know where your base is to be stable, emotionally anyway. You may wish your base was different, but in the long run you have to accept it to go forward.
My Personal Adoption Background
I am an adoptee. I was adopted as a baby at 6 weeks old. My adoptive parents were a good, stable, loving couple who couldn't have children of their own. They had been married for more than 10 years when I was adopted & had gone through the devastation of a false pregnancy soon followed by my adoptive mother having a hysterectomy. So adoption became thier only option.
They were good parents. They adopted a second child, my brother, when I was 2 years old. He was also a baby, 6 months old, at the time of his adoption.
We were always told that we were adopted. They had books they read to us a small children that explained adoption. Mostly informed us that we were "special", "chosen". Almost made it seem like the kids born to their natural parents were the unlucky ones since we were specially chosen by our parents while the naturally born kids were just "luck of the draw". I never really bought into that, mind you. To me, there was always something missing. That wasn't my parents fault, just situational.
We were definitely doted on as children. Daddy had a good job, Mom stayed home with us, was always "room mother" at school, etc. We really never went wanting for anything. At least not materially. And they loved us, I have no doubt about that. My brother never really seemed to dwell on the fact that he was adopted. I certainly did. I can remember as early as 10 years old going to the mail box on my birthday hoping for some message from my birth mother. I remember looking in the mirror as I entered my teens wondering who I looked like. My friends all looked like their mom or their dad, they looked like their siblings.... I was always acutely aware of things like that.
On my 12th birthday, I think it was, I asked to go to Washington D.C., where I was born, for my birthday. So we did. I spent the entire trip looking at every woman in site as we walked the Smithsonian, the Mall at the Washington Monument, along the streets.... looking to try & pick out one of them that looked like me, that might be my birth mother. I didn't tell my parents that I was doing this, didn't tell them that was the primary reason I wanted to come to D.C. But that's what I went for, not to see the sights. I asked which hospital I was born in, but they didn't know. Who doesn't know where they were born?! Missing pieces, so many missing pieces.
As I grew into adulthood, I now realize that I was always seeking to complete myself by trying to create the whole family I never felt I had. A husband & children of my own, really my own. I had my first child when I was 22, it was my second marriage. She was a miracle to me. I named her Pamela Anne, because I knew that had been my original name. Somehow it seemed to make her even more mine, maybe more fully complete myself. I enjoyed being her mother from the very beginning, even before she was born. Finally a person I was biologically connected to. At 26 I had my second child, Megan. 3rd marriage. Still seeking.
The marriages were really bad, won't go into that, not what this platform is for. Suffice it to say I chose badly. But I always had my girls & they had me. They had the best schools, dance, gymnastics, art classes.... you name it. We've always been very close and had a very open relationship. We could understand each other inately.
I see how much easier that is when you can reference their personality based on their parents. Even though I don't always agree with them, I understand them. I never had that growing up. There is certainly a difference growing up with natural parents as opposed to growing up adopted. No doubt. No "missing pieces".
They were good parents. They adopted a second child, my brother, when I was 2 years old. He was also a baby, 6 months old, at the time of his adoption.
We were always told that we were adopted. They had books they read to us a small children that explained adoption. Mostly informed us that we were "special", "chosen". Almost made it seem like the kids born to their natural parents were the unlucky ones since we were specially chosen by our parents while the naturally born kids were just "luck of the draw". I never really bought into that, mind you. To me, there was always something missing. That wasn't my parents fault, just situational.
We were definitely doted on as children. Daddy had a good job, Mom stayed home with us, was always "room mother" at school, etc. We really never went wanting for anything. At least not materially. And they loved us, I have no doubt about that. My brother never really seemed to dwell on the fact that he was adopted. I certainly did. I can remember as early as 10 years old going to the mail box on my birthday hoping for some message from my birth mother. I remember looking in the mirror as I entered my teens wondering who I looked like. My friends all looked like their mom or their dad, they looked like their siblings.... I was always acutely aware of things like that.
On my 12th birthday, I think it was, I asked to go to Washington D.C., where I was born, for my birthday. So we did. I spent the entire trip looking at every woman in site as we walked the Smithsonian, the Mall at the Washington Monument, along the streets.... looking to try & pick out one of them that looked like me, that might be my birth mother. I didn't tell my parents that I was doing this, didn't tell them that was the primary reason I wanted to come to D.C. But that's what I went for, not to see the sights. I asked which hospital I was born in, but they didn't know. Who doesn't know where they were born?! Missing pieces, so many missing pieces.
As I grew into adulthood, I now realize that I was always seeking to complete myself by trying to create the whole family I never felt I had. A husband & children of my own, really my own. I had my first child when I was 22, it was my second marriage. She was a miracle to me. I named her Pamela Anne, because I knew that had been my original name. Somehow it seemed to make her even more mine, maybe more fully complete myself. I enjoyed being her mother from the very beginning, even before she was born. Finally a person I was biologically connected to. At 26 I had my second child, Megan. 3rd marriage. Still seeking.
The marriages were really bad, won't go into that, not what this platform is for. Suffice it to say I chose badly. But I always had my girls & they had me. They had the best schools, dance, gymnastics, art classes.... you name it. We've always been very close and had a very open relationship. We could understand each other inately.
I see how much easier that is when you can reference their personality based on their parents. Even though I don't always agree with them, I understand them. I never had that growing up. There is certainly a difference growing up with natural parents as opposed to growing up adopted. No doubt. No "missing pieces".
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