Email Sent...

This time I hit the right button

I did it.  I sent the email to my first mother.  I asked her to meet with me within the next year.  I put myself out there.  And you know what?  I feel good about it!  I realized (with the help of some amazing people) that it was something that I should do for myself.  So that I'll stop wondering if I didn't do everything I could.  I gave it one more go.  I gave it one last effort.  One final chance.  It was more about me than her.  I want to meet her.  And I will.  If I need to show up eventually, then I will.  I'm not saying that's going to happen tomorrow.  It may never happen.  But it's an option and I have it in my back pocket for when I'm ready.

My first parents have made it very clear to me that when it comes to our relationship(s), it's about them.  It's about their other daughters.  It's about their family unit.  I can have scraps when they are willing to give them to me.  I can hear stories about my sisters and my other relatives.  They'll answer the questions they feel like and ignore the other ones.  They'll email when they feel like it.  And they will do what they think is best for them.  I guess I can't really blame them.  They bought into the adoption myth that once they signed the paperwork I would go away forever, never to been seen or heard from again.  They bought into the myth that they would be able to move on with their lives as if I never happened, as if I don't exist.  But you see, that's the problem with the myth.  I was born.  I do exist.  And as a person, I'm not willing to lay down and play the good adoptee.  I have feelings and wants and needs as well, and as an adult, I have a say in how I conduct my life.  Which includes my biological family.  Not just my first parents, but the rest of them as well.

For a long time, I played their games.  I played by their rules.  I did what they expected of me.  I was the good adoptee.  I emailed when I should have.  I answered their questions about my life.  I let my first father get to know me as a daughter.  He's seen me.  He knows that I share similar quirks with my sisters.  He knows that I look like my first mother.  That we share mannerisms.  And he's even seen my hometown (if I could go back, I'd probably rethink that one).  I gave myself freely in this who experience because that's just the kind of person that I am.  I thought that eventually things would change.  Eventually things would turn around.  Eventually.  I'm tired of waiting for eventually.  So I'm going to push a little and see what happens.

If my first mother won't meet me, the world won't end.  I won't lose anything.  She doesn't email me anymore anyway.  She has almost no contact.  And my first father... well that relationship is reduced to a short email every other week.  When he feels like it.  That's it.  I used to love him.  He was a second dad to me.  He didn't raise me, but he was giving what felt like a great effort to get to know me.  I thought he cared about me.  Maybe he does.  He just cares about his life right now more.  So I have nothing to lose.  I'm moving on.  I'm healing.  And I'd rather get this over with.  So my email is sent.  Now I just have to wait and see what happens.

Unasked Questions

I have a number of questions that I haven't asked my first father.  Each week when we email, we each come up with a question or two for the other person to answer.  These questions are usually "Getting to know you" questions and we answer them for ourselves.  So for example, I might ask my first father what his favorite Christmas gift was and then explain that mine was a dollhouse my grandfather built for me.  I'd then go on to describe why it was so special (it took him hours to finish and it was exactly the kind that I wanted) and how it's one of the few things that I have that reminds me of him.

So most of our emails go back and forth like that.  Sometimes the questions are better than others.  I usually learn things about him that I didn't expect because of the way he answers the question.  So it's an interesting thing.  Also, for a while we were talking on the phone too so our emails were less of "how was your week?" and more "what am I supposed to write about?"  It's a challenge.

That being said, there are questions that I've always wanted to ask but haven't had the chance.  Actually, that's not true.  I've had the chance, but I've been too scared to ask.  I was afraid of scaring him away.  So I kept a few questions to myself.  Hard ones.  Ones that he may not want to answer.  And the truth is, he doesn't have to.  He doesn't have to do anything.  He could ignore them, like he's ignored other questions in the past.  I don't expect him to be a walking encyclopedia and he doesn't have to lay his life bare to me.  He tends to do that anyway, but that's another story for another day.  On the other hand, I'm a naturally curious person and I ask weird questions anyway.  And I've answered every question he's asked me.

I want to know if he's ever planning on telling his/my family about me.  I'm curious.  I want to know what he sees happening when my sisters find out about me.  Are they going to be told they can't talk to their aunts/uncles/grandma about a new addition to the family?  I have these questions because he's made it seem like he never plans on telling them, but he hasn't actually gone that far in saying that.  I know he never expects me to meet them.  So I want to ask realistically how he sees this whole thing going down in the future.

There is no law that says anybody can limit two consenting adults from getting to know each other if they so chose.  So if I want to contact my paternal family (who are adults) I have the ability to do so and my first father doesn't get a say in it.  His actions the past few months have proven to me that he does not have my best interests at heart and that he's putting himself first.  So I've given myself permission to do what I think is best for me.  Right now, what's best for me is to wait.  I don't have time in my life for added drama.  But that doesn't mean it will always be that way.  So someday I'll get in touch when I'm in a good place to handle things.  Right now just isn't that time.

I'm curious as to how he sees the whole thing going down.  I really do wonder sometimes.  I have a feeling that he thinks that he'll tell his daughters someday, maybe ten years or so down the line and that they will keep his secret (or at that point his family won't be around anymore... at least his mother won't).  I'm also curious if that's a part of the decision to wait... he doesn't want his mother to know about me.  So I'm going to ask.  I'm going to wait another week or so (let the old drama settle a bit) and then I'll ask.  He could either answer (and then I'll sort of know depending if he lies or not) or he might not.  At least I'll have tried.

I have a few other questions too.  I'll be asking them over the next few months.  The gloves are off.  I don't owe him anything.  He doesn't owe me anything.  I have nothing to lose at this point.  He's already destroyed my trust.  He has a new nickname in my head (it's the same as my old vice principle, a man who did everything our principle told him like a puppet on a sting).  So I'm asking.  No more nice, obedient adoptee.  Time for the real Jenn to show her face and ask her questions.  I'm done playing a role.  It's time to just be me.

Ability and Willingness

I love comments.  Like seriously.  Because sometimes, wonderful things come out of comments.  Other times not so much, but hey, it happens.  I learn a lot from comments that are left here.  Sometimes it's another adult adoptee commenting.  I love those comments because they make me feel connection to "my people".  Other times it's first mothers, and I love those comments because I've met some kick ass first mothers who offer a great perspective.  And they make me feel less crazy and like my first mother maybe isn't the majority (which would make me sad).  And sometimes, its adoptive parents, and those comments often make me think.  I've gotten some great support from some adoptive mom's (haven't had an adoptive dad yet, but who knows?) and I've gotten some great comments.

Adoptive Mom Lavender Luz left this fantastic comment that really got me thinking on my last post responding to comments:

I have often wondered about the different circumstances surrounding placement and how they might affect the child placed. Such as babyscooped, or if the mother WANTED to parent but wasn't able to for whatever reason, or if she COULD have but wouldn't. The question of ability vs willingness -- which would be more difficult to face?

Thank you for responding to Esperanza's question. Lots to think about with adoption reform and finding a home for a child rather than a child for a home.

I am so sad that your mother has never told you she loves you. How do you fill that hole. Can you?

See?  What a great comment!  One that really got me thinking.  And when I think, I blog.  So you get this nice blog post about ability vs. willingness.  Which would be more difficult to face?  Now I've only really faced one but my story isn't really cut and dry.  There was a lot going on at the time.

Here's what happened with me.  My first parents got pregnant.  My first father didn't know, went away for training.  I was born.  My first mother decided to put me up for adoption (at this point, nobody knew about me).  My first grandparents found out about me and told my first mother she could either continue with her adoption plans or she could move out.  My first father returned home and found out about me.  A week later, my parents terminated their rights and put me up for adoption.

Sounds simple right?  Well, my maternal grandparents may not have been wealthy, but they've done very well for themselves.  They were young (in their late 40's) when I was born.  They had a house, lived comfortably, and had the resources to raise another child should they wanted to.  But they didn't.  And they had no warning. They found out about me the day after I was born.

My paternal grandmother was older.  She raised several of her grandchildren.  In her family, children stay in the family.  However, she probably wouldn't have been able to take me in.  I have an aunt who was looking into adopting a child around that time.  She could have taken me in (according to my first father).  Only my first father did not want me to stay in the family because he didn't agree with the way his nieces and nephews were being raised and didn't want his kids to be raised that way.  I guess he wanted how I was raised to be completely unknown.

Also, my first parents got engaged less than a year after my birth.  Maybe that wouldn't have happened if they had kept me.  But they did stay together.  So did they have the ability?  Probably.  My maternal grandparents could have stepped up and supported their daughter.  They could have raised me.  My paternal family could have raised me as well (and probably would have wanted to had they known about me).  My first parents could have gotten an apartment together and tried to work it out.  It would have been scary and hard, but they wouldn't be the first 21-year-old's to be in that position.  I'm not saying that's the right answer, just that they may have had the ability to raise me.

However, they ultimately didn't want to.  If they wanted to, they would have asked my first father's family for help.  They were afraid their relationship wouldn't survive the struggles of having a child.  My first father didn't have a job and was debating enlisting.  My first mother already had separated herself mentally from me and saw me as someone else's child.  They chose not to parent.

That was really hard to face.  They could have kept me but they didn't.  Everything that I've written above, the fact that it wasn't black and white, did not matter to me when I first realized that.  It didn't matter to my inner child, the one who had questioned why I was given away ever since I can remember.  It didn't matter to the person who often wondered what was wrong with me as a baby for someone to give me away.  There is no easy way to take the fact that your parents did not want to raise you.  My first parents did not move mountains to try to parent me.  That honor goes to my adoptive parents who jumped through every hoop.  But for my adoptive parents, any baby would have done the job.  That wasn't personal.  For my first parents, it was.  The two do not balance each other out.

I would have preferred for the problem to have been with ability.  That's just me though.  Maybe it's a grass is always greener thing.  I'm happy that I know the truth.  I'm glad that I know why.  But it doesn't make it hurt any less.  I would rather be able to feel badly for my first mother and be able to say, "She did everything she could to keep me" rather than "She didn't want to parent me".  Again, that's just me though.

As for the last part of the comment, I don't think there is a way to completely fill that hole.  I think I will be able to more fully heal after I meet her.  I feel like I'll be able to walk away.  I feel like I'll never fully understand her, but I'll always love her.  To me, love isn't about being loved in return.  That's the beauty of it.  I can love her without being loved back.  And loving her is a huge part of my life, and it somehow makes it better.

2011: A Year In Review

Looking back on the year 2011, it was a big year.  It was filled with hidden joys, big challenges, and several life changing events.

In the month of January, I started blogging.  It was something that I wanted to try for a long time but it wasn't until January that I took that plunge.  This was also the month when I reached out to my first mother to try to start over, and was then ignored.  And I started my last semester of college.  We can't forget that one!

In February, I planned my first face to face.  I put together a book with all my emails and everything I knew about my first parents.

March was a fun month and a life changing one.  At the beginning of the month, I met my first father for the first time.  It was the first time I've met someone I'm biologically related to.  It was the first time I saw myself reflected in someone else.  Talk about unsettling!  As if that wasn't enough, my mom and I went on vacation together to Punta Cana.  We had the best time and I know it's something that I'm always going to look back on and smile.  What a busy month!

April was hard.  For starters, my sister and I got into a huge fight.  She wasn't supportive of me meeting my first father and was hurt that I hadn't told her sooner.  Then life changed completely when we learned that my mother had another brain tumor, only this time looked different from her last time.  I moved home the last week of the month.

May got harder.  My mother had four brain surgeries in three weeks.  She was diagnosed with brain cancer and her tumor was deemed inoperable.  I met my first father again, and this time went a little better.  We actually relaxed and had fun hanging out.  And then I graduated college with my bachelor and masters degrees, an event that my parents watched on a laptop in the ICU back in Boston.

June rolled around and my mom started her chemotherapy and radiation.  My life became all about my mother as I tried to adjust to living at home.  Lost Daughters started.  I saw Taylor Swift with my cousin, a girl who is like a sister to me.

July saw the end of radiation for my mom and a break in chemotherapy.  I got a job offer which I accepted and my mom and I went on vacation for a week on Cape Cod.  It was my last month of freedom before starting my job.  My first father started texting me, something that we hadn't really done before.

August started with my job.  Literally, my first day was August 1st.  It was a huge adjustment for me.  My first father started a short trend of sending me videos from his new phone.  Various summer fun was had by me and my boyfriend on the weekends.  August was anything but a lazy summer.

September rolled around and I got a new computer and a new phone in the same week.  I settled into work and my boyfriend started his job (so started spending less time with me).  I jumped on Twitter and tried to improve my blog.  I decided to be more open in my life about my reunion and stop treating it like a huge secret.

October brought more changes.  I started my Picture Sunday postings.  My attempt to be more open blew up in my face.  Steve Jobs died, and the Internet blew up with adoption stories.  My mother spent another week in the hospital.  My first father came up to visit me on my birthday and told me that he was thinking about telling my first sisters about me.

November was hard.  My first father told me he wasn't ready to tell my first sisters, which I was OK with because of the other insanity going on in my life.  I bought a new camera.  My cousin got married and my entire adoptive family got together to celebrate.  I had my high school reunion.  I nearly moved out of my house.  I sent my first father a text message that was spotted by my older kept sister.

December brought more changes.  My first father ended our reunion, except for an occasional email.  He changed his mind a week later after talking to my first mother who stood up for me.  I opted not to continue with reunion under his new rules, but to get back in touch in the new year.  I prepared for Christmas by myself.  The year came to a close.

What a year...  It feels like January was a lifetime ago!

Education and Responsibility

I've been thinking about responsibility lately.  It came up on another blog.  I'm not going to link because I don't want to stir up drama and send traffic that way, but it was an interesting situation and it's really got me thinking.

Basically, a first mother is talking to an adult adoptee who has not searched.  She explains how things were for her and apparently it comes across that she loves her child (who she has now reunited with) and has some sort of mother/child relationship.  It was very vague in this blog post and I wasn't able to find the post it was referring to.  I realize I'm doing the same to my readers, so please forgive me.

Anyway, what followed were comments that the first mother should not have told the adult adoptee her story without telling him that not all mothers feel the same way she does.  It was her responsibility to educate the adoptee about all first mother issues.  Another point was made that there isn't just one story.

I agree, there isn't just one story out there.  There are a lot of stories.  There are a lot of different ways of looking at things.  Even among adoptees, there is a spectrum.  Some of us are happy we are adopted, some of us aren't.  There isn't a right or wrong answer.  It is what it is.  I would guess it's the same for adoptive parents and first mothers.  I'm sure there are first mothers who wish they had never places (I've read some of their blogs) and there are first mothers who are happy they have placed (I've read those blogs too, just less frequently because they are a bit too triggering for me).  I'm sure there are adoptive parents who are thrilled they adopted (I like to think mine are some of them) while I know there are others who aren't (though they don't talk about it as often, I do have adoptee friends who have parents like this).  We all have different perspectives and different experiences.  It is up to us to share that or not.

What I do not agree with it the need for each person to put a disclaimer on everything that they say.  I'm sorry, but if someone asks me about my reunion, I'm going to tell them my truth.  I will not explain to whoever that "While some adoptees like me were happy they searched, there are others out there who don't want to search and never will".  That's not my story.  I will not speak for those adoptees.  I would assume that whoever asks me for my story understands that I'm not speaking for everyone.  That's why I use language like "me" and "I", not "we", "all", and "defiantly".  I learned that lesson in school.  Never use absolutes (I just giggled).  If you ask to hear my story and I tell you, and you take it to be the whole truth, well, then that's on you.  As a person you need to educate yourself.

Along those lines, when I was thinking about searching, I did a lot of research.  I didn't just listen to one story of an adoptee who searched, found, and was happy, I listened to a number of stories of people from all sides of the spectrum.  I read a lot of books, read a lot of blogs, and learned before I searched that everyone feels differently.  I knew it was like throwing darts while blindfolded and praying to hit the target.  If I didn't, that was my own fault.

I don't think it's anyone's responsibility to educate on the entire issue while telling their story.  That first mother's story was her truth.  She shouldn't speak for anyone else.  She can tell the adoptee if she wants, "That's just my story however" but I don't think it's mandatory.  I certainly don't tell people "Not all adoptees want to search" because I don't personally feel like I should speak for anyone else.  I will tell people if I think they are looking for a more general answer that no two stories are the same, and to take it with a grain of salt.  But that's when I have my education hat on.  My education hat is never on when I tell my personal story.  I don't think it has a place there.

Telling of my story is just that.  MY STORY.  Nobody else's.  And it's not my responsibility to disclaimer that. As I mentioned in the comments:

My dog Roxy!

"I don't know about this... If I have a dog and I love my dog and I'm telling someone else about my dog, do I have to tell them that not everyone else feels the same way about dogs so they don't go out and buy one based on my experience?

Everything I say to another person is from my own perspective. I perceive the world in my own way, and nobody else will perceive things the exact same way. I don't put a disclaimer in every conversation I have because that's just not practical. I can see a mother talking about her experience. It's not her responsibility to education about all adoption issues.

While I 100% agree that you have to consider all different sides, and making generalizations is BAD, I'd would say that it's up to the adoptee to figure out the other side of it, not the first mother.

That's just my take on it. I think that a person should be able to share their own experiences without putting a disclaimer on them. It's a casual conversation after all (or at least that's what I'm assuming).

Though I guess it would matter if she told him that ALL first mothers feel this way. That would be a different situation. But if she's merely saying I feel this way, then no disclaimer needed."

The response I got back to this was that I was right except when it came to adoption.  Especially when talking to an adoptee.  It just seems to me like that's labeling us again as different.  We are different, but do we really need to be treated like people who can't reason on their own?

I don't want to stir up drama, but I was really upset about this.  I just don't think it's right for an adoptee (the blog author) to tell a first mother that it's on her to educate all adoptees.  It's like saying we aren't smart enough to figure things out for ourselves.  That was my take on it anyway.  It almost seemed like this adoptee was urging mothers to tell their stories only if it was negative so that the adoptee won't search.  Should people only be able to influence negatively?  I know when I was thinking about searching, I wanted to hear about a variety of view points, not just one.  Sometimes we have to take a step back from our agendas (even if that's blogging about adoption from a "pro" position) and realize that you can't have it one way or another.  This first mother was telling her truth.  The adoptees mother might feel the same way.  She might not.  He should get to hear both sides of the story before deciding to search or not.  And I doubt one first mother is going to sway him one way or another.  I doubt that one story is going to make him rush into a reunion and he will look back later in life and blame all of his problems on this first mother.  If he does, well then there's just something not quite right there.

Where do you think the responsibility lies?

Should Ask Questions

These are questions that maybe I don't get asked, but should be asked.  A lot of people don't ask the important questions so I'm going to make a list and answer them.  I asked fellow adoptees what they think as well and I think it's a great list of questions.  Feel free to add your own in the comments section.

Q: How do you feel about adoption?

This question never gets asked and I think it's because nearly everyone assumes they know how adoptees feel.  I would say the majority of people assume that adoptees are thrilled about their adoption (because we should be grateful we were saved).  There is a group that assumes adoptees are unhappy about this adoption (I've had someone say "I'm sorry" when told I was adopted and I read that lots of adoptive parents get comments all the time).  I know that there are people out there who don't think they know everything (so I apologize if you belong to that tiny tiny group) but the vast majority make assumptions.  I make assumptions all the time.  Sometimes (most of the time) I assume wrong.  It happens.  Anyway, people very rarely ask this question, and I wish they would.

A: My answer is complicated.  I am neither happy, not upset.  On one hand, I have a lot of issues that come along with my adoption.  I never knew where I came from.  That messed with me as a kid.  My adoptive parents never understood me.  I grew up not looking like anyone.  And I have never met the woman who gave birth to me.  These things are something that I would never wish on anyone.  So I'm not "happy" I was adopted.  On the other hand, I do have an amazing adoptive family.  They love and support me no matter what.  And I had a different childhood growing up with them.  While I'm not like my adoptive parents, they still taught me some valuable lessons and I know that I get my moral code from them.  They are great people and I love them very much.  So I'm not upset about that.  I think for me, I feel robbed and cheated.  I am upset about the institution of adoption.  My name was taken away from me.  The identity of my first parents was hid from me and sealed away, and I was never given proper medical information.  That's just wrong!  So it's complicated.  But I'd still love to answer this question because I'm sure that some people would be surprised by the answer.

Q: How is your reunion going?  What's that been like?

I don't get asked this question a lot when I tell people I'm in reunion.  It's funny to me because those would be the FIRST questions I'd ask if I heard someone was in reunion.  I'd want to know how things were.

A: My reunion with my first father is going great.  We talk on the phone every week (mostly), we're getting to know one another, and we have met twice (and will hopefully meet up again at some point soon).  I can't imagine going back to not knowing.  I'm a different person in that before I used to fight who I was at the core of my being.  I was really upset and felt I wasn't "good enough" for my adoptive parents because I wasn't like them.  I'm not like the majority of my extended family, and it was very hard for me growing up.  Knowing someone who clearly I share a lot of personality traits with is fantastic and has helped me to accept who I am to a degree I never imagined possible.

At the same time, it can be extremely frustrating.  I get frustrated at myself for over-analyzing.  Haven't heard from him in a few days?  I must have screwed up.  Nope, his computer has a virus and he's been busy.  It has NOTHING to do with me.  Yet I freak out over it.  It can be frustrating for me because more than anything I want to not only meet my first mother, but to have some sort of relationship with her.  That's not in the cards for us as far as I can tell (now anyway) and I have to deal with that.  But it's still something that I think about from time to time, especially when particular songs come on the radio.

Q: Do you have your OBC and if not, what can I do to help?

Most people don’t know what an OBC is.  They have no clue that there are Americans who are bared from this document.  And they have no clue that they can even help.  It would be amazing if they knew what it was and knew to ask about it.  What would be even more amazing is if BCs were never sealed to begin with and this was a non-issue.  I'm a dreamer, what can I say?

A: I do not have my OBC.  I live in a tiered state (thanks Massachusetts!) and I was born in a blackout year.  So that's amazing and wonderful.  Not really.  Anyway, what you can do is write to your local representative and let them know that the practice of sealing birth certificates is WRONG.  You can let them know that you don't agree that keeping information from ADULT AMERICANS is the right thing to do.  If enough people started to educate themselves on OBC issues, I think it's pretty clear that things would change.  The majority of Americans don't know about OBCs.  I didn't a year ago and I'm someone with a ABC.  I also think that adoptive parents need to be more aware of this as well.  I think they need to be the ones to help push through new laws that give all adult adoptees full access to their birth documentation.

Q: Have you had problems without an accurate family medical history?

A: Yes.  I've had a bunch of problems with this.  I have an undiagnosed medical condition, and a huge part of that is that without a medical history, it's very hard to diagnose me.  I have some of my information now which was able to confirm some ideas and discredit a few others, but at least its something.  I've had to learn to deal with it and hopefully it won't be a huge issue in the future.

Q: What is your preferred adoption language?

A: I prefer to call the family I am genetically related to as my first family.  My language choice has changed over the years.  I was always raised to call them my "birthparents" but I dislike this term because I have a problem saying "birthfather".  He didn't give birth to me.  I don't like that.  I like natural, but I think I like first best.  Though at times I will call them my biological family because I think most people get what I'm talking about.  "First father?  What's that?" is an annoying response to get and I don't want to take the time to explain so I just say my biological father.  Saves me from using the other b word.

My other parents, the one's who raised me are my adoptive parents.  I only use this language when talking about adoption however.  They are my parents the rest of the time, no qualifiers.  I hate qualifiers, but sometimes when dealing with adoption you don't have a choice.

My new thing is to call my adoptive father my dad (he raised me) and my first father my father (he technically is the man who gave me half my DNA).  I find dad more familiar and father more clinical.  I do reserve the right to change this at any time though! :-)

Frequently Asked Questions

I found a great resource that has loads of ideas for blog posts. This is one of them that I haven't done so I figured it's a good way to start. The following is a list of frequently asked questions that I've received in my life. They aren't all from blogging, more from real life. And I get asked these questions A LOT!

Q: Do you mind answering questions about adoption?

A: No, I don't. If those questions are asked in a respectful way. I understand that it is a small percentage of the population that is adopted. There's a large portion that is connected somehow to adoption. For every adoptee there are two biological parents and two (probably) adoptive parents. Each one of these four (probably) people has a family. And sometimes there are siblings involved, either adoptive or biological. Now add in all of the friends of each person connected to the adoption. That's a lot of people. Never mind the adoptee who goes on to make friends (hopefully) and maybe has a family someday of their own. Lots and lots of people become connected to adoption per adoptee. So while we are small population of adoptees, there's a lot of people out there who's hairdressers cousin adopted a baby (who by the way is always happy about their adoption and therefore all adoptees should be and this makes that person an expert in the field). So I guess I can understand the curiosity. If someone is willing to be respectful about it, I'll answer questions. If they aren't, then I start asking questions back. "What's it like to be adopted? Isn't it weird? I would hate to be adopted!" My answer: "I don't know, what's it like not be adopted? I can't imagine actually being related to some of YOUR nasty relatives so tell me what THAT'S been like?"

Q: When did you find out you were adopted?

A: I don’t remember the first time my parents told me. It was just something that was always there. My mother made a scrapbook of pictures from my adoption process and wrote it like a children's book. She would read it to me before bedtime and we would look at all the pictures. The whole "story" was there. When I was two and a half, my parents started the process of adopting my younger sister. It took nearly a year to complete that process (we had to move, meet with social workers, etc.) and I had a much better idea about what adoption was. I understood that I didn't grow in my mommy's tummy and that I had a birthmommy out there somewhere who in theory loved me. As I got older, it was just a part of how our family was created. Our family was just like other people's families, only I didn't look just like my parents and my parents were a little bit older than some of the other parents. It wasn't a big deal, it just was what it was.

Q: Why were you given up for adoption?

A: Somehow this question gets asked a lot, even before I was in reunion. Pre-reunion, I would tell people that my mother was very young and she wanted me to have a mommy and a daddy instead of just a mommy. I would leave out the poor part, even though that's what my parents told me. "She was young and poor. She knew you deserved a better life than she could give you." Post-reunion, I tell people that it was a complicated situation. My parents (yes I include them both now) were young and weren't sure of the direction they wanted to go in life. They didn’t feel it was fair to a child to get stuck in the middle while they figured things out. And I like to add that my father's parents weren't married and he wanted me to have married parents, something that he always wanted. It's a complicated question, yet a question that people love to ask.

Q: If you're adopted, why do you look like your dad?

A: This question I don't get so much now. My adoptive dad and I both have dark hair. We both tan in the summer. So after a summer where we're both tan, my dad and I somewhat would look alike. You wouldn't look at him and then look at me and see a connection, but people look really hard for what they want to see. I've noticed that most people would try to find a family resemblance where there isn't one, and would then get offended after they've convinced themselves that "No they DO look alike!" Not really sure why this is. Let me clarify. My dad's hair is light brown. Mine is nearly black. He has hazel eyes that change color depending on his mood and the weather. Mine are so dark they are nearly black. My dad has a peanut shaped head. Mine's more square. I tan darker than he does. We have none of the same facial structure. His ears are smushed to his head. Mine stick out a little bit. Basically, we don’t look alike. But people look for that connection and then think I'm trying to pull a fast one on them when I tell them I'm adopted. No my dad did not cheat on my mom and then make her raise his lovechild. I really am adopted.

Culture Question

So I've been having a lot of conversations lately about my adoption. The same thing has come up a number of times. People scratch their heads when they find out my ethnicity. I guess I should take a step back for a minute and explain why I bring it up. First, I never knew my ethnicity before. I mean, I guessed, but I didn't know for sure. My boyfriend is 25% Irish and burns in the sun, but looking at him, you'd never know. So my thinking was always "Well, I look Portuguese, come from an area that's dominantly Portuguese, but who really knows?" Now that I know I'm over 80% Portuguese, I'm proud of that. I'm not proud that I don’t know a lot about the culture, the country, or the people, but I'm finally learning about it.

What's interesting to me, is that when I tell people, I've heard the same comment from various ( and unconnected) people. They all scratch their heads because "That's a tight knit community. It's surprising that a 'traditional' Portuguese family would give away a child." My mother's family was always described as being very traditional. Now I always saw that as meaning they were very Catholic (because they are) and couldn't support the whole child out of wedlock thing. But other's see it more as we-keep-our-own kind of thing. I've also heard that Portuguese culture is very dependent on how things will look to the neighbors. Which explains the whole, we-don't-want-an-out-of-wedlock-child thing. So who knows?

I've been trying to do more research online about Portuguese culture. Seeing as NeverTooLate grew up in that environment, maybe I would understand her a little bit better if I knew more about where she comes from (and therefore where I come from in a sense). I've been hitting a bit of a brick wall though. I can't seem to find any good websites that would give me information about this culture, probably because everyone keeps telling me they are a close knit community. So if anyone out there has any suggestions, I would absolutely love to hear them. Thanks!

Overload

Today was my first day of work.  It went well and I can see myself really liking it there.  The company is a great fit and works to combat world hunger and environmental issues, as well as making drugs more affordable for the public.  So much more my speed than the stock market which was all about money.  It had its charms but not quite right for my personality.

My vacation is now over.  I've been bouncing around a lot the past two weeks.  My camera hasn't been unpacked yet but pictures will be up soon.  I went to Maine (which is so pretty plus it's a free access state).  Then I went to Connecticut for a few days and saw a bunch of old friends who I miss like crazy.  Then I went to my parent's summer house Cape Cod for a week.  It was amazing weather and I made it to the beach a few times so I was pretty pumped (I was watching my mother who sleeps a lot these days so it was pretty sweet to get out of the house).

I had a pretty intense weekend before my first day of work.  First, I went to see my godparents and I haven't talked to them alone since I told them about finding my first parents.  They had some more questions because they've had time to process, I showed them pictures (which they thought were so cool!), and my uncle discovered that his friend used to work where SinginInTheRain works now.  If I know my uncle he's going to find a connection somewhere because he knows everyone.  It was really nice, but intense at the same time.  I'm not used to talking about my adoption with family members so I'm still getting used to it.

The next night I went over to my neighbor's house.  She's my mentor, but I hadn't told her about any of my adoption stuff.  She's super loyal to my mom and has some very strong opinions, and I wasn't sure how she'd take it.  Apparently she saw something on my facebook page and asked me about it.  I tried to make sure that most people don't get to see what I post about adoption (just my adoption group of friends and a few close friends) but she saw it and wanted to know what it was all about.  So I told her the story.  Turns out her son-in-law is an adoptee.  I was the flower girl in his wedding and I had no clue.  Apparently his adoptive parents are nasty and he cut ties after there was an "incident" with his father being inappropriate with his two year old daughter.  It was nice, but intense at the same time.  Too much for one weekend.

So I've been having a bit of adoption overload.  But that's ok.  It happens.  It will get better.  And I'm learning to be more open.  I'm learning that people don't jump down my throat.  And I'm learning that these people care about me and want to hear me out.  At the same time, this overload needs to end soon...