Talk about a l-o-n-g laborious effort...!

April 10, 2006

One of the most significant consequential and harsh realities I have ever experienced was the pregnancy and the birth of all my heathens. It was during those times I had realized the scope & depth of damage done to me as the result of having been adopted & abused.

I never liked children. I have always found them to be rude, uncivilized, dirty, gross, sticky, runny-nosed little brats who should be seen from a great distance, so as not to be heard by those who are Normal Quiet Loving People. I have felt this way even when I was a child, myself. However, I was always Different, and more mature than most of those within the 10 years my senior. [Life experience has a way of doing that to a person...] I really do not think my life would be particularly incomplete without a child. However, as a female, shouldn't I have an innate love & affection for all that's pink & blue? The more I would talk to people, the more abnormal I began to feel my true and real sentiments were. So I had forced myself to push those strong aversions of mine aside, and submit to the pressures of The Shrew and Staff and FDH's demand for a New Addition be added to the madness of my mind.

Now, in all fairness, I have to admit, I DID enjoy pregnancy. With all it's hideous side-effects and complications, I never felt more Whole, and One with Life & The Universe as I did when pregnant. It was a profoundly spiritual & intense personal experience that brought me a connection to my mom & her pregnancy with me that I had never anticipated. However, it also defined, in glaring obvious ways the fiery red deception, and deliberate lines of separation the shrew had established for our future relationship. The unmistaken truth of her thoughts, actions, behaviors & feelings towards me could no longer be masked or hidden from me. I felt disturbingly used & violated by the shrew's intrusive behavior towards me and my first pregnancy, and the pregnancy with the twins. In fact, the twin-pregnancy is what solidified my thoughts & impressions of that woman and her shrewd cowardice, but I digress... Interestingly enough, my second (and according to FDH, "unfortunate" ) pregnancy, the shrew had lttle interest of involvement. Except for those photo-ops, taken at the delivery of my son, of course.

I think of all things in terms of spiritual and scientific significance, respectively. The development of a baby (as opposed to the clinical & impersonal term "fetus" <blech!>) is awe inspiring in terms of the logic, form, function, purpose and the attention to fine detail given to each realm of development. Keep in mind my complete aversion to children, I do feel becoming pregnant is a miracle of cosmic proportions and galactic importance. As such, I knew all the happenings at any given moment of each baby's growth and development. With that, I had developed a completely hypnotic preoccupation with the study of all that was pregnancy & birth related. I knew Adoption had a strong influence in my quest for indicators of genetic "surprises", and I had already been well-versed in the clinical aspects of L&D, as my RN experience had provided me. But this preoccupation went far beyound that. I would intentionally schedule times for me to just sit, with my hands on my belly, and marvel at the look and feel of my skin as I watched the baby inside me move, shift and grow. I felt like I was a piece of breathing poetry. Each "visit" I would be transported to this world of specialized, singular, irreplaceable and deliberately designed life that was given reason & purpose above & beyond My own being. And I knew this small-being was started by a conjoined mass of interdependent cells that would form an identity unique and singular for the world to soon know and recognize -- as the name given by his/her mom would define.

<Screeching breaks, crashing explosion > Such was the sound of my collision of fact with fantasy. With each moment of bliss I felt feeling the complete bodily ownership of God's miraculous creation, I felt the agonizing, gut wrenching dry heaves of despair and misery felt by the woman who used Her hands on Her belly to feel My movements within Her body. Add a few octabillion hormones into that mixed-bag of emotions, imagine the carnage THAT did to my heart & soul!!

I think it's fair to say I enjoyed the masochistic pleasure of pregnancy & childbirth because it was the only time I could be one with my mom. As much as it tore me into raw bits & pieces of the human remains I once was, I needed that pain to remind me I was Hers.

The moment each of my children was born, and I saw the face & body of that creature, I would shut-off, like a light switch. Now, remember, I had worked L&D as a RN, so I knew the stages of mother-child bonding, blah blah blah... therefore, intellectually I knew it was completely normal & expected to have an ambiguious aversion to holding the newborn. However, I was completely broad-sided with alarm & terror when I was TOLD to hold my baby. I cannot express what a horrifically hurtful thing that was to be expected to do so soon after that Moment Of Actualization took place for me -- the new-mom who was relinquished by her birth-mom. Befittingly, the shrew made certain she attended each birth, for the photo-op extravaganzas, and with each child, she made certain she would immediately brand each baby a recognizable trait that She was the provisional source of pooled genes that made that trait possible. I think back to those fragmented moments, and I think how cruel an act that was for her to impose on me. [Please know, the shrew & I had many detailed converstaions about the importance my pregnancy had to me. She seemed to understand it was the culmination of all that defined me & my life as An Adoptee.] The shrew, as I have always known her, makes no mistakes; she would never allow herself to be seen, heard, or perceived as doing anything "by accident" or without intention. It was obvious to me, her fictional genetic contribution was not the mere innocent wish to be a Part of my "real" family connection. No, hers is a more sinister & corrupt means of operation. I of all people would know this truly diabolic nature of hers.

In essence, I felt as though the shrew abducted each child of mine, just as she did the baby born of the woman who shares my genetic codes. She made certain I would look at each baby and be reminded of her imposed assignment to each life I had been given. Cruel mind games, as she was famous for playing with me. I think what hurt me the most was not once did the shrew help me when I came home with any of the babies. I REALLY needed a mom, and her direct involvement with learning how to Mom my baby, (and myself); but she failed me, just like all the other times I NEEDED my mom. She made herself known only when a camera was flashing. Oherwise, she was too busy doing whatever it was she did with her son, daughter-in-law, and their 2 children. Proof positive to me that blood does run thicker than water.

The only pictures I have of myself are of those strained poses I had to endure at the hospital when each baby of mine was born.

Alright, Vietnam flashbacks over, my point was to illustrate how childbirth brought with it all these phantom ghosts & menaces that were never introduced to me before-hand.

I think it would be acceptable to say women who were adopted experience a completely different and more intense, concentrated form of pregnancy & childbirth than most. For those without solid, supportive relationships with Family, those events can be painful In-Your-Face-Mommyhood-Gone-Astray traumas.

It's interesting that from what I have been learning through the input I have been given by adopted fathers I keep in close contact, theirs is an experience not without it's own fallout and recovery. It just seems that because they have no biological & body involvement, the process is not nearly as intense. After all, that is no different from all the universal male experience. Adopted Dads seem to attach to their children in ways that are more immediate, intense and personal than any other relationships they will have in their lives. Might I dare to assume a bit more, it's perhaps during this phase of a man's life he may realize, maybe for the first time, the full extent and impact adoption has indeed affected his own birth-through-life story. I've been told by quite a few men, that the most surprising & overwhelmingly emotional moment felt by each man was when he held his own newborn child for the first time. It was looking into the eyes of his new baby, he realized his mom did the same, yet still chose not to keep her baby.

Kinda puts a drag to the whole Family Portrait Thing, donchya think? [url="http://adsg.syix.com/adultrad/forum/images/smiles/icon_confused.gif"]http://adsg.syix.com/adultrad/forum/images/smiles/icon_confused.gif[/url]

aisha101

April 11, 2006

I think that here you do get all the warm and fuzzies because somehow we all have different stories and lives but we are all somewhat connected.

Again, your writings had me hooked and again I must say that you really need to get your self signed up with some big publishing agency somewhere and let the world see your gift for writing. :)

I too would like to give you hugs because you my dear in my opinion got the short end of the stick on both ends.

Usually I am going to assume when an A-mother/father goes out and searches for a child because there is a hole in their heart from the lack of one they would not take such a gift and beat it! Your story bothers me so much because it is a major problem with our systems. You have been hurt by someone who was suppose to love you no questions asked. Unconditionally. And it is crappy that someone can take that trust and destroy it so much.

I remember being pregnant with my first son and all the worries I had to go through. I had no family history. Imagine going to genetic councelling because they kept saying that something is so wrong with your unborn child and you sit there and have them ask you questions to which for once you feel so stupid because you are failing what seems to be the most important test of your life!

I am this child's mother and I have no answers. The stress I had with him was just plain crazy. It made me throw up every single meal i put in my mouth until the day he was born.

But, as much stress as that put on me I am so thankful that I did not know my family history at the time because it was later known that two birth sisters are in a home, wheelchair bound. That probably would of freaked me out even more and those doctors would have gotten their way and had me terminate the pregnancy.

My son was born perfectly healthy, nothing wrong with him except maybe attitude that 12 year olds seem to share.

I on the other hand hated being pregnant. It felt weird and strange to me. I did not feel connected to the extreme that you expressed. I just wanted it over. But, I did bond with those kids like a crazy nut. I would not put them down and they had to rip them out of my hands to get washed, tested etc..... And once home I did not want anyone coming close to them. Perhaps I felt that they were suppose to share the same fate as I did??? who knows.