A Million Stories…

I was reading comments on my last post and it really got me thinking.

I know a lot of adoptees have abandonment issues but I guess I am one of those people who can’t reside in the past. I don’t think I ever had any anger towards B. (maybe a little when she couldn’t decide if she wanted to meet me!) but I did have confusion and curiosity. I do know that it is difficult to try to establish a relationship after so many years. There is a big piece missing that I don’t think can ever be replaced.

When I decided to sever the relationship with certain members of my bdad’s family, it wasn’t easy. I think if he had still been alive things might have been different (or worse). There is a lot of anger at him and I found that I was turning into his stand in.  The final straw was a letter that made light of my search for my biological roots. That I did all this searching on a whim. Am I angry at them? No. Yes. I don’t know. When he walked out, he left behind a lot of damage that had been lying dormant for 30 years. Symbolically, I ripped off the scab and the wound started bleeding again. I realize the anger is really at him but it has been turned on me. At a certain point, you need to cut your losses and I hit that point.

Interestingly, I am close with my bdad’s brother and his family. They were ostracized also. They were the first biological relatives I ever met and they are special to me. 

I also have been thinking a lot about being an adoptee. Could I have been angry at B.? I guess if I had an unhappy upbringing. Maybe a “why didn’t you try harder to keep me” anger? I certainly can see where adoptees could think that way. My life was fine and I think I turned out all right. My adoptive parents cared a lot about me and were honest about my adoption. Do I think they are thrilled about my reunion? No but they realize it is important to me so they deal with it.

I am rambling this morning…

 

Storms Coming In.

We have a major snowstorm headed to New England this afternoon but today is my last day of work before I head out on medical leave. I have a few reports to get in but I kept up with everything so I am right where I should be.

Last week the doctor decided that my surgery to reconstruct my left eardrum would be inpatient instead of day surgery. I have to show up at the hospital on Sunday at 9:00 a.m., the surgery is Monday at 9:00 a.m. and she thinks I will be released Tuesday.

I have come to grips with the surgery. I’ll be floating off to never-never land so what do I care? The last time I went under the knife I remember taking a few deep breaths and it seemed like seconds later they were asking if I could open my eyes.

My birth mom is just beside herself over all this. She wants to come down and visit at the hospital while I am sitting around waiting on Sunday. I don’t think she needs to make a four hour round trip just for this but she is pretty stubborn. I realize this is primarily due to the sudden passing of my half brother D. back in May of last year. I am trying to remember that.

With all due respect to the mothers out there, this is where it gets awkward. Although I always enjoy seeing her, I feel like this is too much. Over the line. While I completely understand her need to “mother” me, I still have this little bit of resentment that it was so difficult for her to decide to meet me. But how much of this is my own fault if I never set the boundaries? All my warm and fuzzy “there is room for everybody” talk.

I think I still have this deep down nagging feeling that she didn’t care where I was for 45 years. I also think my experiences with some of my birth dad’s side has soured me. I am beginning to realize that my maternal grandparents didn’t want B. marrying into the family for a reason. They weren’t quirky or eccentric…they were pretty miserable.

I don’t really know what to expect at the hospital and this pressure of B. being there is wigging me out. I tried telling her I wanted to save her visit until I felt better but she isn’t taking no for an answer. She wants to drive down with a work friend “who knows everything”which makes me feel like a freak show. Is she bringing the friend to show that she is a good mother after all?

Her sister and brother in law completely warned me that she might just show up. I should have heeded the warnings. I thought about calling her son or daughter for some advice or help. I’ll think about that today.

Note: I don’t want the mothers out there being upset. This is just me venting, being spoiled and just down right ugly for a little while.

The Kid.

I got a call last night from my birth mom and it was very interesting. When I answered I immediately knew something was wrong because she sounded very drained.

She ran into my deceased birth dad’s cousin  yesterday and I guess these two ladies had quite the conversation. They haven’t spoken since before I was born! Anyway, they chatted all about what happened leading up to my birth and some of what happened after.

This cousin told her that my birth dad had been very upset about the birth and adoption. He felt that he and my birth mom weren’t given a chance to try to make a go of it. This cousin also stated that she thought this event was the start of his downfall.

I guess the most important thing I got from this is 1. he knew I was born and 2. he knew I was a boy! The cousin also said my birth dad always referred to me as “the kid”. He would wonder what “the kid” was up to and how old I would be. My birth mom is horrified by this but I choose to look at it positively. A term of endearment? Of sorts?

I guess my worry is that I think my birth mom is starting to feel that she didn’t make the right decision. I still don’t think the decision was hers to make. I think she was directed by her father and he controlled the situation.

I realize all these circumstances led to his downfall and I know I tend to think of him in almost mythical proportions. I do have to remember that he never paid child support according to his ex-wife. He was in jail and had a drinking problem. But the cousin also said the ex-wife would drop off her kids for the weekend and disappear for three weeks!

There are so many stories floating around but I guess they don’t really matter anymore. You can’t change history…