A Dose of Reality

*Someone brought up something on a list I belong to that I would like to explore further here. This post may not represent the thoughts and emotions of my blog friends who are in the same boat as me but I dedicate this to you too. You know who you are.*

Most of the blogs I read by first mothers are about coercion and manipulation regarding their personal adoption experience. Most of the books about first mothers contain the same theme. I have yet to run across any insight into the mind of a woman who’s decision was well thought out, planned and on purpose. It’s easy to understand why, I mean what does a mother who has no regrets have to write about? I know it’s hard for a woman who is deeply saddened by the events of their adoption experience to even process that there may be women out there who made (as another adoptee stated) a very LUCID and RATIONAL decision but they exist. I know because I have one.

My mother was 21. Young but not a teenager. She had a two year old son and was working. Each time we have spoken (all four times in six years) she has mentioned that she has no regrets. She said that her friends told her she should have an abortion but that she CHOSE adoption. She feels she gave up her rights to me freely and decided almost 40 years ago that she would never look back. Then I showed up and all of that perfect planning blew up in her face. I get the blame for forcing her to see life outside the box she lived comfortably in for so long. So she became bitter and angry………..at me. Why should she have to wake up one day and suddenly have a daughter where one did not exist before? Now I know my mom friends are probably scratching their heads because they could not ever live in a reality in which they did not have a daughter but my mother did and continues to try and stay there with every fiber of her being. She honestly lives her life with a clear understanding that I exist but NOT as her daughter. Then I come along asking her to see me as her daughter but all she is capable of seeing me as is a stranger. She is not CAPABLE of living the truth.

We could spend days going over the psychological reasons behind her actions such as coping mechanisms, stress management etc… but the REALITY of the situation is that she very clearly and ON PURPOSE has chosen to continue to live in a world where she has three adult children-not four.

Here is where it get’s confusing. I spent YEARS reading books and talking with other first moms in an attempt to understand where E may be coming from. I wanted to be sympathetic toward her. This courtesy was never reciprocated. To my knowledge she has not once tried to understand why it is I would want to be acknowledged as her daughter. A relationship takes two willing participants and I am officially tired of dancing alone.

Now six years into this farce of a reunion I say this:

MY reality is that you ARE my mother.

You are selfish.

You are NOT a VICTIM!!!!!!!!!! In my mind you don’t GET to join the ranks of the moms who actually are.

You may be comfortable with the choices you made but I am not.

I am allowed to be uncomfortable with this.

I am allowed to be sad.

I am allowed to be angry with you and I AM.

I think your choices suck.

You have no right to keep my father’s identity from me. You are a horrible and selfish person for doing so. I have a right to know. You are infringing on my rights and his by not telling me.

I hate you.

I love that I can finally allow myself to hate you.

I hate that despite all of this I still love you.

I can love you and there is really nothing you can do about that so live with it.

Some day I will have to deal with the hate thing because I refuse to live with hate in my heart. But today this is where I am at with it all. Today I am real. Today my feelings matter to someone and that someone is ME.

That’s MY reality.



Filed under Adoptee Family

20 responses to “A Dose of Reality

  1. This has got to be one of the most honest and open entries I have read on adoption blogs in a long time.

  2. Mia,

    I thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing your story. Thank you for your raw and honest claim to your own reality. It wasn’t until recently that I had known of or even heard of other adoptees living in reunion. I’ve played my own childhood reunion story in my mind for the past 35 years and feel that through the strength of other adoptees, I too, can claim my own reality without apology. Thank you for your strength and most of all, your truth.

  3. I’m sorry for the double post. It was not my intention to infer that I was living in reunion, only that I am just now beginning to read and learn more about fellow adoptees – including those who have found their families – and that I have drawn immense strength and courage from them. Thank you again, Mia.

  4. thirdmom

    Mia, you have put the adoption paradox into incredibly clear perspective. Thank you.

  5. Thanks Dan. I was wondering there for a while if I had scared everyone off. lol The truth isn’t always pretty.

    Paula you have NO reason to apologise. None. I have come to realize that “reunion” is nothing more than an emotion that is felt by all adoptees from the moment we leave our mother’s arms. It is felt in different ways and in varying degrees by all adoptees for an eternity. You are part of the ranks love.

  6. I just love you to pieces Margie.

  7. suz

    wow. good for you girl. great post. wow.

  8. Very powerful post Suz and I agree that this mom is pretty deluded. I would like to believe most people are not capable of doing what she did/has done but I have been amazed before. It really does boil down to “you”. I appreciate you sharing a very intimate portion of your reality and yourself.

  9. “Today my feelings matter to someone and that someone is ME.”

    I love this line and I’m going to remember it. Thanks Mia.

    And I’m right there with you. My mother was 19, married, and had no excuses other than being selfish and not wanting the burden of parenting me. I was supposed to thank her for not aborting me, tell her she did the right thing, and move on.

    Yeah, I’m really right there with you Mia. The details are different, but the feelings are the same.

  10. I’m posting a comment twice because I just have to add:


  11. Mia

    Suz, LeRoy, Thank You. It was a healing post to write. Painful, but healing.

    Elizabeth you are one of the many I had in mind when I wrote this. Wraith being another. Then there is Amy, Nina………and so many others who have experienced different versions of the same story. xoxo

  12. Speaking your truth is such a good thing, Mia. I appreciate being able to read it and learn from it.

  13. I’m in tears after reading that Mia. Your feelings are so blunt and honest and raw. The amount of emotion that comes through in that entry is over-powering. I bet you felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders after allowing yourself to release like that. Thank you,

  14. I applaud this post. When I think of all the mothers out there that are right there with us, to me , they are our mothers. For me, they are the righteous mothers. They are my righteous mothers. They are the ones besides the adoptees and my own adoptive family that keep me sane. Especially when I don’t feel so sane. All of these people to include you Mia that lift me up. Even those tears are falling by the buckets, I am who I am today because of them and us.

  15. I hear you, Mia!!! And BTW, I really liked your insight on the meaning of reunion because I use that term, too, without ever having met my birthmom and, the way things are going, I don’t want to (today). But you really are onto something when you say that the process of search is what is so empowering and that “reunion” is a useful catch-all term. And it’s not just about the word, it helps explain why I’m satisfied with my search but feeling like I have to throw on the brakes and maybe stop.

  16. Dear Mia,

    I just discovered your web site .. and this powerful post about your mother not wanting to welcome reality. I am so sorry your mother is not willing to open her heart to you. I wrote this poem about all who stay hidden and those who hide the truth, and for those who will never know their/our rightful kin. I am especially sad for those who are not allowed to see each other, or have lost their mothers/children, once again.

    Prayer for the Hidden
    ©2006 Celeste Billhartz

    I pray for those who stay hidden
    Who refuse to meet their mothers
    Who refuse to meet their children
    Who have no courage
    Who lack compassion
    Who are afraid

    I pray for the mother whose son has died
    Who birthed him, lost him, found him, lost him. Mack was 39.
    I pray for the mother whose daughter has died
    Who birthed her, lost her, found her, lost her. Kristi was 33.
    There are other mothers, waiting, forced to stay away
    My God, their courage astounds me!

    I pray for the unkind — the many, many unkind
    Who keep a nana from her grandchild
    Who tell lies to the adopted
    Who have no courage
    Who lack compassion
    Who are afraid

    And, I pray for us — brothers, sisters, cousins — all
    We’ve gone decades without each other
    We grow old …
    Without answers
    Without truth …
    And now, our children’s children want to know

  17. Awesome Celeste, just awesome. It made me cry. Thank you so much for sharing it.

  18. Anonymous

    I hope that this wonderful article by Carole Anderson might help some here? “Why Won’t My Mother Meet Me?” Sadly, Carole passed away a few years ago…

    You can find it here:


    Pres., OriginsUSA
    Co-author, “Adoption Healing,” for mothers, http://www.adoptionhealing.com

  19. I hope that this wonderful article by Carole Anderson might help some here? “Why Won’t My Mother Meet Me?” Sadly, Carole passed away a few years ago…

    You can find it here:


    Pres., OriginsUSA
    Co-author, “Adoption Healing,” for mothers, http://www.adoptionhealing.com

  20. Mia

    Thanks Karen. I had read that before. It brought some comfort and understanding which helped. Honestly I needed to sit with the anger parts for a while. I spent a great many years living with compassion and trying to understand which was great and necessary but the anger sat there not being recognized. I just needed to acknowledge it’s presence so I could let it go. Does that make sense?

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