What's my favorite place?

I like a whole bunch of places in my mom's house, where I live(we live like roommates and pay equally for bills most of the time).
I like the kitchen when the sunlight is filling it and the table is the perfect height for writing/reading/eating/etc, but the chairs are not too comfortable..
I like my bedroom because it contains all the resources my mind craves, books, my laptop, my clothes, etc, but it's cold in here(due to malfunctioning furnace)
I like the laz-i-boy chair in the living room and seeing all the pictures there makes me feel comforted, but it doesn't have all that either the kitchen or my bedroom has..

... so I like almost every room, but not any is really my 'favorite'

Open Adoption Blog Hop #1

Winding down...

The Open Adoption Roundtable is a series of occasional writing prompts about open adoption. It’s designed to showcase of the diversity of thought and experience in the open adoption community. You don’t need to be listed at Open Adoption Bloggers to participate or even be in a traditional open adoption. If you’re thinking about openness in adoption, you have a place at the table. The prompts are meant to be starting points–please feel free to adapt or expand on them. 
Write a response at your blog–linking back here so your readers can browse other participating blogs–and share your post in the comments here. Using a previously published post is fine; I’d appreciate it if you’d add a link back to the roundtable. If you don’t blog, you can always leave your thoughts directly in the comments.
Are you approaching openness differently in 2013? What experiences from in the past year influenced you most?


Am I approaching openness differently?? Maybe, different as in not at all. Well not as aggressively as I could be. I could be messaging my son's adoptive mom every week, asking for a visit. I could be worrying more about it. The fact it that I've become somewhat ambivalent about my whole situation. I'm not sure if I want to push for visits because well, shes(adoptive mom) has been pretty good with the posting of pictures on face book and such. I mean, I know things like he lost two bottom front teeth and that he threw up at school and several of his antics at home and elsewhere through the glory of social network that I previously mentioned.

Honestly, I want to stay as harmless looking as possible. As well, as I have started to pursue things in life, fitness being a big one(got a YMCA membership and boy, do I use it!). I've also tried to focus inwardly, on my own emotional and spiritual health and in doing so, I kind of sometimes 'forget' that I want to know my one and only son because I just trust that if his adoptive parents see it fit not to involve me as much as they have before, then I should respect and honor that decision.

Also, the past about 3-4 visits have become a bit awkward as my son seems to have little interest in connecting with myself or even his half-brothers and Jacob.
I read a blog a while back that seemed to call me out on certain specific things I have written about before, in years past. When comments that specific are made, even if they don't directly mention me, I kind of know that that one half of the sentence, that was about how I'm a horrible person for wanting to visit my son because it means I'm abandoning him again and again and have done so far too many times. The fact that I probably stated somewhere that it's OK with me if my son is upset with me for choosing an adoption plan for him(in the future), that made me out as a sadist that thinks it's OK if children are hurt by the actions of an adult.

So, in light of that idea, at this point, I'm hoping that my son decides to ask to see me, because he is a very intelligent boy now. Says far more large words than other kids his age, even though his lack of co-ordination and the fact that he has a short attention span that seems to point to ADD(which I and Jacob have, really wish that wasn't so heritable!).  Two years ago, his adoptive mom told me that he pointed me out on the Christmas postcard picture I sent them, and the fact that he could point to a picture and say "That's Cindy, she's my birthmom" that was the first nail in the coffin for my desire for visits. Because my goal in visiting was to make myself known. I often told myself, if my son knows who I am, then the reason for visiting is void.
Unless of course, he actually asks to see me. I feel terrible about the idea that I could have been 'forcing' him to see me all these years, and that's one of the biggest changes. I'm not going to force anything anymore.

Openness used to mean that I "get to see him". At least, that's how many of the people who know about the fact that I have a son seem to address openness in relationships(be it adoption or separated parents or extended family/friends that live far away). They are of the more old-fashioned crowd, but even younger folks tend to think that if you don't see a person IRL then you are not really a part of their life.
I get to be a part of gift giving and even though my gifts are rarely the ones he favors, I still know that he knows that they are from me because in past visits, when I enter their home, one of the first things that my son sometimes tries to do is round up all the things I have previously given him. If that doesn't show he knows they are from me, I don't know what would.

I think of openness in a more varied sense. For me it has become knowing about the facts of his daily life.
Like knowing the costumes he wore for Halloween, or seeing the ginger bread house he made(with help from adoptive dad, uncle, and cousin) or knowing that he is still taller then everyone his age, in his class, and in his family. Knowing the little facts that come about on social media give me peace that his life is far far far better than I could have even imagined for him. Just knowing about his life is openness now when previously, I felt as though visiting was paying so sort of social debt I had toward my relationship with my son.

I don't know exactly what made me change my attitudes so much. Part of it is that I just have lost my courage and confidence in seeing myself as an important part of my son's life.
The opinions of adopted persons, who seem very very very opposed to openness also make me feel too guilty to assert that I know there are benefits and the benefits often out weigh most of the cons that they propose. The fact is that many things I have read discourage me from trying harder. I feel that in just a few years, if face book died(or when face book dies) the last link of openness that I enjoy will be gone too, and I will probably be OK with that happening because I've known so much over the last 6 years. Maybe I have been too greedy and ending this unsatisfying relationship would be a relief and I can go on improving myself at the gym and my soul and mind in other ways, without being so obsessed about my sons life.

Honestly I will always think about him everyday, I have his pictures on my desk and in my purse.
All I want to do is for him to want to know me so that the weird dream I sometimes have of him randomly showing up at my front door can somehow come true and that's when I will feed him, take care of him for a day, and send him back home like I always imagine. But that's just a strange dream that will likely never happen.

What I have to accept is that I am not important to my son at this point. The time for teaching him who I am is likely almost done and unless I'm wrong about that, I have to work on moving on and living to the best of my ability with the peace that comes from trusting that my son is doing well, he doesn't need me at all because I've given him the best family possible(they are actually better than I could have ever known)






 

Cravings..

There are many stories I read about people 'missing' each other because of the events of life separating them and such. As is the case with Parker and myself. Honestly though, it's not that I think he is 'missing' from my life as much as sometimes... I just want him to be there, in my life that is.

I crave him. I want a chance to touch his head, his shoulder, to hear his voice, to know he is real, that I didn't imagine his existence. As well, I want to feel, for a few moments, that I don't have to pretend he doesn't matter to me, because I have to do that all the time.

You might not think I do, but I do. Often though, I have had times where I have forgotten him, as I have forgotten people in my everyday life, like my mom, or even my close friend Kyla.
When I remember, I feel guilty that I forgot, even though that is normal to be thinking only of the tasks at hand to forget, it's natural, it happens. It's why I put reminders of important people around me.
Pictures, things that they gave me. I think most people do this, they don't want to forget the important people.
I mean, I know I could never truly forget, because I see Parker as a part of my soul, living in a separate body that is part of my body, again, living separated from me, as is natural.

I think I'm like an amputee, without the obvious physical differences
And for the most part, I manage great without I have adapted well.
But there are times when I feel just a little less somehow, like there is something very specific that I need.

It happens all the time with food, the body tells the brain what it would like to function better.
Sometimes the brain doesn't get it right and seems to tell us we want unhealthy things.
Usually though, it's about a balance of energy and strength.

I believe my soul needs much of the same kind of balance, and there are times, when I suddenly notice that I feel out of balance, and what I need to fix the imbalance is an interpersonal interaction.
When I tell people I care about them, and I mean it, it strengthens me too.
When I don't get the chance to do that, I start to feel weaker.
I start to feel like I'm a bad person, and all the weird scary insults that I can only tell myself start flooding my mind, because I lack the strength to stop them, because I've lost my sense of balance, because I didn't get the chance to connect with the people most important to me, the people that are a part of me, and are me.

I'm often scared to tell people that I feel weak, and that is why I need them. I want them to need me so that I will be stronger for the chance to care about them in real, lasting ways.

Yes, my need to see Parker is a soul hunger pain, a weird, and involuntary reaction to feeling less than myself.
So, I want him, but it is very selfish, and I don't want it to be, I want him to need me and that I why I wait and don't ask to see him. Even though I could, and it would probably result in a visit sooner than if I wait.

My mind keeps reminding me that, to be brutally honest, I didn't want to have a son when I had Parker.
I mean, as a teenager, all I wanted was to have a son, but I didn't want Parker because I wasn't loved by Jacob enough to be a good mom. This is what I wrote in my journal while I was pregnant, and looking back at it, I cringe each time I think about those words, because now, I can't stop myself from wanting Parker, and I never expected to feel that way.
It's not that I didn't love him while I gestated him, I loved him without trying to, without knowing that I did, it was a work of God in my, not my own will. Other wise I don't know how I remembered to take all the vitamins, to drink all the milk, to eat well and stay away from smokers.
I am very matter of fact about this, I can love Parker, but not want him, but also have the need to forge a real life connection with him, but want him to be the one to choose it.
I'm going round in circles with my thoughts, this is the end of it, but not really..I'm sorry

It's all about the truth

The Open Adoption Roundtable is a series of occasional writing prompts about open adoption. It's designed to showcase of the diversity of thought and experience in the open adoption community. You don't need to be listed at Open Adoption Bloggers to participate or even be in a traditional open adoption. If you're thinking about openness in adoption, you have a place at the table. The prompts are meant to be starting points--please feel free to adapt or expand on them. 

Write a response at your blog--linking back here so your readers can browse other participating blogs--and share your post in the comments here. Using a previously published post is fine; I'd appreciate it if you'd add a link back to the roundtable. If you don't blog, you can always leave your thoughts directly in the comments.

What were your reasons for choosing open adoption? (Or, for adoptees, what are your reasons for continuing to invest in your relationships with your first family?)

When I decided to make an adoption plan for Parker, I was barely pregnant, but my guiding vision came to about a friend(from years before I became pregnant), who herself placed in open adoption.
In my mind, it wasn't 'open' adoption, it was just the new way that adoption, in general was being done, as far as I knew.
My friend had given me the impression that it was the most normal and natural thing to do.

To me, closed adoption seems like it takes so much more effort than open adoption.
I mean, you have to painfully choose to exclude yourself, or being excluded from the life of someone who is your blood, your kind, your family. For a birth/first mom, she forces herself to deny it happened, and adoptive parents also deny it happened, even when it is obvious.

It has never made sense to me to exclude people, and I have never understood why people exclude others from their lives under this strange notion of 'simplicity'.

To be fair, I am a very private person, and too many people overwhelm me.
As well, I often exclude myself from the lives of people who have proven to be harmful to me, or to others I care about, that makes sense.
But excluding a stranger who does something especially kind for you, as some adoptive parents do, this will never make sense to me. What is in it for them to continue to block certain people from their lives.
Especially in an age where people stay 'friends'(at least online) with their ex's and random high school associations. Why would you stay friends with people who have contributed nothing to your life or worse, unpleasantness, while excluding the one who contributed the most important part of your life??

I am a birth/first mom though, and it is unlikely that I will really understand what it is to parent because I do not see myself in that role, the role of a parent.
I do understand what it is to be busy, and tired and sometimes, not have room for everyone you want to have room for in your life, but those times fade and suddenly, you have whole chunks of time where you have nothing to do and begin thinking of those people you didn't have time for earlier, because now, you do.

My 'choice' in open adoption was not really about creating a connecting as it was leaving that connection intact, ready to be used when the time is right for everyone to get together again.

For me, it's also more about letting Parker know the truth about his life and his family, as everyone should.
As someone who was born to a family, I cannot imagine not knowing my whole family history, as boring as it may be. I cannot imagine not knowing that I look like my mom, but act like my daddy.
I just want Parker to know, as naturally as I do, the things about himself, that the shape of his nose comes from me, that his energy comes from his birth dad, Jacob, those kind of things.
I want him to know all the things that people born to there families know.
It only seems fair.

I may not be as present in his life as I wish I could be, I think the same for my nieces and nephew, but I am determined to remain someone that is easily contactable. I need to be someone who is known about as much as anyone in my everyday knows about me.
Anything less feels like a lie, and my conscious is too loud to let me live a lie like that.

In my opinion, open adoption is about living truthfully, because I don't think you really love someone if you lie to them about something as important as who they are.    

Everything is temporary

I've often had this feeling in almost everything in my life is a passing thing, that nothing will remain for long.
Actually it's often a comfort when I feel stuck in certain situations. The fact that it will be over sometime, that it will be something I will forget soon, that they will forget soon.

I feel like I'm am part of minority that feels this way. I was thinking about how my lovely cat, Lucy, was owned before I adopted her from the shelter. She was surrendered only about a week before my mom and I happened to take a trip to the shelter, to donate a bird cage(nothing wrong with it, just that our 17 year old budgie died). We looked at the cats because the promotion to adopt a cat is almost irresistible, and obviously, I fell for it.
I sometimes wonder about who owned Lucy before she was my Lucy, she was ... Goof...at least that's what the paper work said. I wonder if her previous owner thinks about the cat she lovingly surrendered at all.
I mean, Lucy was almost 2 years old when I adopted her, that means there's two years of time that could have been with just the one owner, or maybe more, I have no way of knowing.
I wonder if they thought that their ownership was temporary. It's unlikely, people often don't think about the future or how things they love currently will fit into their lives as they change.

Because everything is temporary,  the bed I sleep in will probably not be the bed I die in, if I die in a bed(which would be the best way to go..I hope).
I hope to live here, at my mom's house, for the foreseeable future, but I know that it isn't mine, and likely never will be, it's just the best place for me right now.

I have often felt that my place in anyone's life is always temporary.

To be honest, I often feel like I don't deserve anything I have, not even the things I 'earned' or my job.
I feel like I have usurped my position from someone else that would do it more justice than me, or would find more value in it than I do.

As a Christian, I was taught from an early age that life here, existence as I know it, it is temporary, and even more than that, it is but a small bump on the road to where I will truly belong, and be permanent in my existence as well.
All of life then is really only meant to be a small test, if I pass it, if I can humble myself and truly accept God and the truth, then I get to know real love and joy and stuff. If not, torment forever.
Honestly, I don't know if I should try and escape the torment, I probably deserve it, but because I know about God's love, and it has really got to me, I believe all the spiritual stuff, I really do.
It means, that for me, grace is something inescapable for me, it's gonna happen to me whether I want it to or not because my heart overrides my mind so much of the time!

I am not making sense, I meant to say that I wish that everyone could think more about how nothing they have will be their's forever, and stuff they had, other people had it, loved it, maybe more than they did, before they did and other people will love what you love after you, maybe more than you do. Do you follow?? 

Thoughts... reactions..etc??

Being a birth mom doesn't define me. Even though, it probably should. I mean, my job doesn't define me, my hobbies don't define me. My faith sort of defines me, but not in the most traditional ways that are obvious to people.
Whenever I read about how other birth moms are struggling with their feelings I feel guilty for not being as upset as them. I mean, I get more upset about it in different ways.
If something doesn't add up, for example, if a visit or pictures was promised, and then they didn't deliver on said promises right away, or in a reasonable amount of time, as promised, then I get a little upset.
Because that's not fair, and I hate it when I am lied too. I just can't accept it.
Now, I know that life sometimes gets things delayed because unexpected things come up, and I understand that if it is explained to me. I just can imagine that things are going wrong if you don't tell me.

Anyways, that's not what I wanted to write about.
I was thinking about the first times after I gave birth and placed Parker because I have been reading so many stories about it lately. And all of these new birth moms, and even experienced birth moms are often telling stories about how hard they cried and how much they miss their placed child.
I mean, I miss Parker, but I rarely imagine him as part of my life.

I feel sort of a cold rejection when I read stories that I can't relate to but wish I could.
When I hear a story about a birth mom leaving the hospital alone, I feel guilty that I left the hospital not even a full day after I gave birth, in the company of my dear friend.
And what I remember, I wasn't melancholy. I was tired and very hungry.
When I'm hungry, I can rarely think of anything else than what I want for my next meal.
The day that I left the hospital, Parker was still there, so were Jacob, and James, and Laurie(future adoptive parents at the time) and the social worker, Cathy.
The room was a bit crowded for me to get some sleep.
When I left the hospital I don't even really remember walking out.
Just that feeling that I really wanted and shower and a good meal and a good sleep.
I knew that Parker was not leaving with James and Laurie until at least the next day(they actually left that evening, but it wasn't originally planned that way) and Jacob was going to be with his first born as well as his sister(with whom he was staying for the night) who had everything you could need for a baby(she was pregnant with IVF twins, had a C-section 4 days after I gave birth) 
I was confident, in that day, that everything was in place.
That day was really a blur for me. I remember eating chicken fajitas and having a strange horror dream where Parker was in danger(it was just a dream)
It seemed like that visit I had at Jacob's sister house(Natasha is her name) happening in a blink.
I was unexpected as Jacob was supposed to spend time with Parker overnight, but he decided that just 5 hours was enough time. He hadn't slept for two days, I guess it was a rational decision.
I remember kissing Parker, all snug in his brand new car seat, on both cheeks, and then on the forehead.
I did it as a sort of blessing, when noone was looking and everyone was chatting and distracted with the putting coats and shoes on.
We all left out the door sort of together, only to let James and Laurie, with Parker safely buckled in their SUV, for the second time(they apparently drove Parker to Natasha's home, along with Jacob), drive off before us, back to Laurie's mom's house that was only a few blocks away. I don't even know, to this day, when they really left for Sherwood Park, up by Edmonton, that day, or the next morning. Both are possible.
I think the separation of Parker and myself was so happenstance that I never had the chance to think about it that day. Not enough to be sad about it at least. It was all so logical for me.
I had to leave the hospital before him, being there was torture because they didn't have food for me and I was all ... icky ... from giving birth. Jacob needed special time with Parker anyways, and I wanted him to have that time, out of respect, so that he wouldn't give anyone any trouble about the adoption(which didn't exactly work, but in the end, he relented on his insane parenting plan and gave up selling it).
It worked out for me that Natasha was willing to help care for Parker, she wanted to meet her nephew anyways(a surprise to me!). It worked out that Laurie's mom lived close to Natasha and that Laurie and James could easily stay with her.
Everything worked out for me and seemed very logical. My feelings didn't come into play until months after that day. I worked in blissful indifference to the fact that my son was not with me.
I felt grateful that he was being extremely well cared for and that I knew exactly where he was and what his room looked like. Just knowing all the things that he needed were all there, it made it sort of impossible for me to feel badly about my decision.
Hearing stories of woe from other birth moms is always a wake up call for me.
That I should care more, be more upset. Even though, I have my times of crying.
I cry like mad for a few hours every few months or something, and then, I'm fine and it's like I was never upset in the first place!
Am I a monster for not having been a wreck for the first few months after placing Parker.
Is it unfair that in most things in life, things just 'work out' for me.
I mean, others complain about not getting their 'due' at work, and I do not complain, but I get more, more hours, more privileges, more consideration. I think it's because I rarely complain, and I do what everyone else is supposed to do but thinks it's 'going out of there way' or 'not their job'. I just do those things that others seem offended to be asked to do, because I know it's what I'm supposed to do, nothing more, and very little extra if that.
There is so much that just 'works out' for me that I never expect.
My credit is extended when I need just that little bit more, food is offered to me at times when I may of gone without, things are offered to me when I would have gone without, and often, these things happen in spite of the fact that I never ask for help, or rarely so.
Actually I feel embarrassed when I get things I didn't ask for, things that I need.
I wonder how much they must of watched me struggle to be so annoyed to be compelled to give me that new pair of shoes, or seen me swoon and stagger with weakness because I forgot to eat while doing a task(housework, etc) and rolled their eyes at my stupidity in not stopping to eat earlier.
And other things like that.
I wonder if I am a horrible person for often living as though Parker is not my son.
This is why I need pictures of him framed on my desk, on the fridge.
I'd put them on every common surface if I could, I need to remember that he lives.
I mean, there are many times when I have this strange sensation, as though I'm forgetting to do something.
I feel a restlessness to do something, care for something. I think it's probably because my inner instinct to care for Parker is finally crying out in me.
I am not naturally emotional, but that doesn't mean I don't care. On the contrary, I don't mean to brag, but I notice the needs of others far sooner than others do, and I usually try to do something about what I notice.
I care in a more solid way, not like emotional fog that comes and goes. I care the same all the time, not more, not less, but always the same. Is that bad? I hope not.  

Millions of children died today.. and I can't find anyone who cares

Lately I've noticed that most people don't care about things that don't directly affect them.
It bothers me. There are people who talk about scary news stories, but mostly the attitude is more 'how to I protect myself from this horror' rather than 'how do I help those poor people affected'
Now, I know that my interaction with people is likely not the norm for the whole world.
It's just that I'm somehow stuck interacting with the most insular, self-involved, short-sighted and selfish people that are possible in a limited social life that involves working at a retail store or hanging out with people, in their thirties, who are married with kids.
It seems that after a person has developed their own 'world' of cares, the cares of the world at large are rarely any of their concern.
I mean, I want to be friends with these people, they are nice, for the most part.
It's just that they give me blank stares when I ask them if they know about recent news stories or read any good books or really if they noticed the needs of anyone but themselves.
Why is it that nowadays, it's twenty-somethings and teenagers that are willing to change the world for the good. Why aren't more parents and married people making any significant efforts to help the world at large.
I mean, when it happens, it's usually such a big deal that it gets in all the newspapers and stuff!
You would think finding love, and having children, who require many many things, would make those people think more about how millions kids die, everyday, because the didn't get any food to eat, or enough food to keep them healthy.
I feel like I live in a world of bubble people, people who only care about the people who care about them and can help them or further their own agendas. Which are usually good, like raising healthy, responsible children or having a healthy marriage and healthy bodies and minds.
What I hope for is that people could go outside of their 'bubbles' of self interest, do things that cost them something, have no actual reward, and only benefit someone who cannot repay in any way.
That would be true charity. I don't want to brag, but I have tried to do things, yes, the pay off is that I feel good about doing something that costs me and to people who can't repay me.
It still kind of furthers my agenda of trying to be a good person.
I really don't want it to be about me though, it's why I like anonymous giving, if possible(isn't usually nowadays, security issues and all)
I just really wish I could have a lover who would understand and be interested in all the things that I am.

I'm selfish too, I know, but I'm trying not to be, but everyone I talk too thinks I'm crazy or stupid or they just don't want to admit that they are totally horribly selfish too to take for granted food and water and shelter while millions children die everyday...