is getting easier and more frequent. Blogging has been invaluable in helping me sort through my thoughts and feelings about it, which enables me to express myself more freely.
This shook me. A couple days ago I witnessed a woman asking my teacher for advice on how to fill the void of her missing children. She hasn’t seen her children for five years! They are now 10 and 13. She was beginning to consider adopting so she would have a child to love. Though my inner voice was yelling at her, I stayed calm outwardly. I watched and listened. I listened to her story while I yelled at her inside myself. I listened to my teacher asking her questions. I listened while he gently guided her to look at the fact that she was abandoning her living children. Never a harsh word spoken, but the message so clear. You have alternatives you haven’t yet explored. There are ways for you to reach out to your children, now. Get help to connect with your children. She tried several times to redirect or to reinterpret the message that she could somehow get new children. Maybe she could become pregnant. Maybe there was a child “waiting for her”. Now I was inwardly gagging as well as yelling, and getting my shoulders all bunched up. Still, gently, he was guiding her to see the children she believed were taken from her by her threatening ex husband are HER children. She can gather up a posse and go see them. All my rage and righteous indignation receded slowly. This is the quality of loving that I am privy to, an unwavering goodness in attendance to what is.
Yesterday, chatting at a reception a new friend said that while it’s all well and good that gay marriage is now legal in CA, they should be allowed to adopt as freely as hetero couples do too. Well, my practice of telling anyone who brings it up, that I am boycotting the movie Juno, has strengthened my resolve. I took that opportunity to tell her that my p.o.v. about adoption reform is strictly in the area of family preservation, that couples that can’t have children of their own have driven the adoption industry and commodified babies, using the example of Madonna flouting Malawian law. I could hardly believe I was standing in a lovely garden after a beautiful “celebration of life” of a dear friend’s husband, and saying absolutely shocking things as though I was perfectly reasonable. And I was perfectly reasonable. It wasn’t as smooth as I’d like it to be. I need more practice before the words just roll out. But I was calm and coherent and happy for anyone to overhear me.
I’m just getting started.
Adoptee pain doesn’t come in single serving packages. It doesn’t come with little pink plastic disposable bags you find in boxes of feminine hygiene products.
It can be almost like physical contact, like the monster fights in movies, but going on inside your own being. That kind of describes what it feels like to me but I’m the mom, not the adoptee.
Yesterday I got the sweetest blessing though. Joy and I had an opportunity to talk about what’s been going on at her blog and our concerns about feelings of separation. I used to be very afraid of losing her again, of her going away for one of many possible reasons. I had some self esteem issues, srsly. In the past 18 years we’ve been through some cycles and I trust now, that she’ll come back to me. Kids do go away. It’s part of the growing up process. And they come back. Moms are good to have. I miss mine, and my grandmas, even though they live on inside of me. I’m the mom now and I’m glad to be.
So the really cool thing that Joy shared with me is that she said she never feared losing me again, once she found me, we spoke to each other, we reconnected physically. She knew we were together. She’s told me that before and this time it got inside me in an expansive way. She knew she was part of me and I wasn’t going anywhere. She knew, on some level, that we are. That was my intention throughout our separation, to be with her, inwardly, in whatever way she could use. That feels good, so good. No matter what comes up, no matter what separates us, no matter — It will pass. I love her, no matter what. Loving her is my blessing.
I came across an old journal recently, where I’d written, “Thirteen years ago a little girl was born…” I’m glad to know that we are, Together Again no matter what our lives will bring.