On the subject of books

(((Jackie))) From your post above... "The isolation that some of us went through was terrible... And I personally do not think that anything can be sorted in that kind of isolation..There is no outside input.. No new ideas.. Our thoughts just go around and around in our heads with no resolution.. I know that was the way with me.. I just went on holding time with my issues around the trauma of giving my son up for adoption.. We are tribal people IMO.. Isolation helps no one.." I agree, Jackie. I do not want anyone's pity, either. I simply want others to understand what happened. When people understand what happened to us back then, we will hear less of the "How could you..." type of questions. The irony: The daughter I raised is a 30 y/o single mom of a beautiful 2 y/o boy. She was and is supported by her family in every way. "Society" has not jumped all over her for being an "unwed" mother. There were no cruel people calling her child an "illegitimate b@$t@rd." She is simply a single mom, who was raised by a single (divorced) mom (me). I was a good enough single mom for her that she decided she could be a single mom, too. She, obviously, kept her son. One day, as she was cuddling with her son, admiring how beautiful he was, she started to say, "I just don't see how anybody could give their child..." and then stopped short as she realized to whom she was speaking. I was speechless, hurt and bewildered, but said nothing. And this was after my son and I found each other. She even helped me to search for him. She is a loving daughter, but she didn't and still doesn't "get it." She's at university and doesn't have time for outside reading. Maybe one day she will have time to read the book. The son I raised will not read the book, even though I brought a copy to him. I brought the book back home, unopened, and passed it on to someone else to read. My son "R" (surrendered in 1971, found in 2007) has read the book, though, and he understands a lot more. I believe it helped our relationship. I do not want his pity, only his understanding, which he has given me, and for which I am deeply grateful. It is not about pity, but rather education... so that we are no longer in isolation... so that we may have a shared history... and to help ensure that history will not repeat itself. The book splayed me open... and allowed the poison to leave my body. I am healing now... and I am no longer toxic, to myself, or to others. It was worth the pain, but lancing a wound is never a pretty sight... Love, Susan :flowergift:

Oh lordy another layer to the onion.. I know I got something in me on this.. Susan.. I am going to spend some time.. searching me.. on this.. Your words make sense.. I know I am triggered.. Such a biggie this.. "How could you do this?".. my husband also said that.. I thought I was fixed.. I thought I was all better.. But still I can not speak on the phone with my bson without.. being afraid.. HELP :hissy: Jackie

...they make me cry and give me indigestion! Jackie, ask your husband to read the book. It really answers the "how could you..." question. For me, the decision to surrender was mine. My mother begged me not to. My father felt it was my decision alone to make, and he supported whatever that decision was. I was engaged, and my fiance abandoned me (at his mother's urging) when I became pregnant. He even came to our house to ask for the ring back. Of course, I told him that the ring was a gift to me and that I would be keeping it, thanks very much. My father asked me if I wanted him to make my boyfriend marry me. I thanked my dad for the offer, but told him that "shotgun" weddings were no longer legal. The influence that I was under was that of our society. It is the same influence that drove some of our parents to coerce us into surrendering. They were manipulated by the same society that condemned us for being "unwed." We were all "driving under the influence." It was in the air we breathed... few people were able to escape this unrelenting pressure from the "morality makers." But, just because my parents were supportive of me does not mean that all other extended family members were. I love my extended family, but there were a couple of very mean ones among the bunch of them. They were close to my mother, and I didn't see that my mom was able to fend them off very well. They brought her to tears on many occasions. There was no way that I would let them punish my innocent child with their words and hateful attitudes. I did what I felt I had to do in order to protect my son. It just about killed my mother... she was with me for my son's birth (well, they wouldn't let me see her until after he was born -- I was completely alone then). She was begging me not to do this... she called my father and begged him to stop me... I thought I would die that day... and part of me did... part of my mom died that day as well... I was 18 and I have to live with the fact that it was my decision. There is no one else to be angry at, except this nebulous thing called "societal expectations." And, two mean relatives who have since died. So, the only thing I can do is work to educate people about an era in our country's history that was hugely ignorant and manipulative. Jackie, you should know that no matter how "successful" my reunion sounds, I am also plagued with insecurity. And, I have never spoken to my son on the phone. He prefers email, and I feel more secure behind the written word as well. I am afraid to hear his voice without seeing him in front of me... and, I don't know why... I, too, feel that when I think I have reached the core, I find yet another layer to peel away. It is painful, and I hear your pain. May we both find peace... Love, Susan :flowergift:

Susan and Jackie, I stepped into this thread for a booklist and instead got so much more. It was like reading so many pieces of my own story. Surrendering my son was my decision, and I cant blame anyone else for it, nor do I want any pity. IҒm also not sure I can expect anyone to really understand unless theyve faced a similar challenge. But support? Acceptance? Truth-telling? Yes, all of that. I want to be able to talk about my experience and not be judged or feel that members of my family are still ashamed of me after 28 years! It will be a year next week since I was contacted about my son, and I still have a sister and a brother who have not told their children who range in age from 17 to 1 year old (thatҒs ten of my parents 27 grandchildren) that he exists. Not long ago my mother told me she knew that she ғcould never have done itԗgiven up her child. It reminded me of the people at work at the time of my pregnancy in 1978-79 who would say, to my face, What kind of person gives up her own baby?Ӕ I know my mother didnt mean to ask that particular question, but it felt pretty much the same. I wanted to say, ғLive my life, be in my situation and then see what you might decide to do. Almost every time I have told my story to someone over the years, the response has seemed supportive and well-meaning, but has also included some kind of phrasing like, ԓYou must be a very strong person. I dont think I could have done it.Ҕ It sounds like a compliment, but it really isnt. ItҒs like Im some kind of freak to whom no one can relate. I would always brush aside the ғcompliment and say that my decision to place was best for both of us, so as to deflect the feeling of being a sinner in saintԒs clothing. But the question nagged and nagged and this year Ive had a violent inner struggle with it. Once in the process of reunion, I found it so difficult to remember my reasons for placing him. Everything I could list seemed to have a solution, or at least seems like it would have been solvable, had I worked hard enough on the problem. Guilt and shame abounded. A common theme that ran through all of the reasons, however, was that lack of true support. As my husband was watching my meltdown as I explored the horrific realization that placing my child was probably a mistake, that I had made a choice that could not be taken back and that had caused so much pain in my life and the lives of so many others (including my sonҒs, whose upbringing was quite different than I had hoped for him), I told him that no one in my family ever tried to talk me out of it. It was hard to say this without sounding like I was blaming others for my choice, but I had to say it anyway. I know my parents thought they were being supportive of my choice, but I had to wonder why no one said Stop! Think about this.Ӕ I was 21 years old and had never been a parent. How could I know what I was giving up? The choice was mine, but how could I really know what I was choosing? I think of my own daughters at this age, (currently 25 and 19) and I wonder how they would feel prepared to be able to make such an irrevocable decision. I know that I felt that no matter what my parents said, they were so ashamed of me that they thought it would be best to just have this thing be over, close the book, bury the evidence that their Catholic-raised daughter had had sex without being married. Well, fast forward to last month, as Im dealing with the stress of the sibling reunion, (and, of course, all the stuff that goes along with the ongoing new relationship with my son҅) and my mother tells me that she knows that Ive had a lot of pain over the years, but the choice was mine. And, after all, she had written me a letter during my pregnancy telling me that if I wanted to change my mind about the adoption and keep the baby theyҒd support me 100%. I have absolutely NO recollection of ever reading this letter. My mother tells me that I replied asking her not to say this to me again, because if I talked about it I could never go through with it. Of course, I have no recollection of this reply, either, but it made me sick to my stomach because it rang so true to my feelings at the time. I didnt even see my son after his birth, never held him, because I knew instinctively that had I touched him I could never have let him go. I knew what I had to do to get through the relinquishment and I did it. Again, this will sound like IҒm blaming my mother for not stopping me, but if my daughter had said that to me, I hope Id say, ғHold on a minute. If even the mention of a different possibility is enough to make you change your mind, maybe we need to look at things again. I want to think that my mother was trying to respect my decision to place, but I canԒt help remembering how they hid me from my grandmother as soon as I started to show. I didnt want my child to grow up under the judging eye of my family for whom my pregnant stomach was viewed as a flaunting of my sin. At the time, my mother kept telling me she didnҒt know what she was supposed to tell my younger brothers and sisters (ages 10-19 at the time), and how it was insensitive of me to get pregnant when my older married sister had been trying to get pregnant and couldnt, and the least I could do was consider giving her my baby. It sure felt like a hostile environment to me! I canҒt go back and change the past, and maybe my mothers offer was sincere, maybe sheҒd processed all of it and was ready to be supportive at a certain point. If I dont have any recollection of the letter, itҒs impossible for me to judge whether the context and attitudes had shifted, but I think at the very least they remained ambivalent. Despite this, I do know that my mother and father loved and love me, and did what they thought was right and that they believed their offer to help was sincere. I think the problem does lie in the cultural disease of shame and judgment, whether its a family culture, a religious culture, or a general societal failure. Everyone thinks itҒs so wonderful that couples get to adopt, but no one wants to admit that these babies come from someone! Or its more comfortable to think that they come from bmothers who somehow ғdeserve the pain of separation from their children. My own family of origin is vigorously anti-abortion and pro-adoption, but when it came to my son returning to our familyԒs life, Ive encountered so much angst and resistance, the need to ғwait until we know, the shame of what happened 28 years ago resurfacing all over the place. Not a very good way to support adoption, if you continue to punish the one who followed the stated cultural norm and gave up her child! But thatԒs because the stated cultural norm is not the de facto norm. The truth is that those of us who surrendered our children, for whatever reason, for whatever good we created (At least you provided a baby for a couple who couldnӒt have one, so your pain has purpose, says my well-meaning momԅ) violated the agreed upon definition of what it means to be a mother. In family and in society, we are often seen as freaks, the kind of womanӔ who can give up her own child. This is where the isolation comes from for me. I dont personally know of another single woman who placed a child. I donҒt know if education will lead to understanding, per se, but I do think its absolutely essential for illuminating the truth thatҒs been forever hidden in the darkness of lies and misconceptions and stereotypes. When my son came back to me I gently put my family of origin on notice: I won't keep the secret anymore. Susanalthough my son and I do talk on the phone very occasionally, I never, ever call him. We stick to topics like work and food and דits so good to hear your voice.Ҕ He usually ends the conversation with I love you, Ma. IӒll call you tomorrow but, of course, I know he wonԒt and Im used to that now. IҒm not secure enough, either, to discuss anything of substance on the phone. When hes truly present and ғin the zone with me, we have been able to cover some amazing ground together via instant messaging, but IԒm always careful to be sure he isnt too tired or distracted or short on time. ItҒs taken some months to figure this out, and theres never enough contact to satisfy me, but at least now I generally know what to expect, so itҒs getting easier. JackieI know what you mean about being unable to process and sort these things out in isolation. Staying in my own head is the worst thing I can do. I think we were meant to live in community with those who understand our pain, so we can learn from, comfort, and support each other, but also with those who might not be able to understand it so we can bring our stories into the light and air, and maybe prevent them from being repeated.

Ode to the onion.. And there it is.. it is what it is what it is.. You Susan have turned me around on this.. I have been ranting in other places about this book.. I have been saying the anti’s have been using this book.. and getting into fights.. But yes.. Just so they know what happened.. and its okay to be vulnerable.. I hate being vulnerable.. I immediately want to write.. Ohhhh he is not like that any more. But.. Always the but.. Wow.. Hard things.. Hard hard things. My sister and I spoke about this once.. We talked about how my parents were first generation over to North America.. and they were from poor struggling people.. in the new world.. My grandmother rolled cigars in the cigar factory.. Mom was terrified of being poor.. And then if society turns its back on you.. you may end up poor.. not have made it.. “How will you get a husband?” mom said.. and that was the prime directive in my early years.. Getting a husband and getting safe.. home free.. Yes.. Mom and dad were drinking full time on those days.. I could not have left my son with my mom while I worked.. And my sister would have gotten in some awful stuff if I had of kept.. she agreed with me years later.. She married well.. married money.. married the doctor.. And his parents would not have tolerated my son born out of wedlock.. He would have had to have suffered..from cruel words. Oh.. I can not imagine what you went through.. at least I was able to shut it down.. Pull back and be no one nothing.. You had to go into emotions.. Wake Up Little Susie.. and Beggars and Choosers.. were written by a historian.. And those books tell it all.. Rickie Solinger said that when she wrote Wake Up Little Susie.. she was writing and or researching.. the way African American women were treated.. as opposed to white anglo Saxon women.. The treatment was awful for African American women.. they were told to go away.. No help for them.. But white women needed to be saved.. able to get a clean slate.. crap. Me too.. And you have just showed me one of my flaws.. My anger.. My place that is unsorted.. Ah.. A poem.. TS Eliot.. The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock I grow old … I grow old …

I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves

Combing the white hair of the waves blown back

When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea

By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown

Till human voices wake us, and we drown. So here is another book I recommend.. TS Eliot poems... Prufrock.. Waste Land.. and Four Quartets My daughter has been disturbing me more.. and my anger points the way.. I have a quote from Beattie I am going to type up about anger.. And the lessons from it.. I really was/am unreasonably angry with the adoptee that wrote The Girls that Went Away.. Over the top.. Jackie

It is strange that you should start this thread with Robinsmom quote.... and part of her quote is something i have just been wondering about... i have been wondering if being reunited and then crushed was worth it all.... if knowing what was in store for me, would i still have chosen contact? and i think the answer is "yes"... it is a cruel thing to be denied even a picture of your child.... it is not a good way to live, not knowing if your child is dead or alive... and I don't think I hurt MORE than when i initially placed.... pain is pain. many aspects of my relinquishment have been healed... through all this. many parts have been sorted.... new wounds have been created.... new hurts.... she wasn't responsible for the first ones.... but she's responsible for these... i don't know if this is the right place to post... but i am reading a great book.... I find this very interesting. i made an adoption plan.... without influence from anyone. Giving birth, I changed my mind. I have told my story for years as being unwilling to relinquish. doing so against my will.... however, the truth of the matter is, I spent 9 months figuring out how NOT to raise this baby.... I was not prepared to parent. I was not prepared to give the baby a home. and i certainly did not have any support from my family.... If they would have allowed me to change my mind... I think i would have realized on my own that it just wasn't possible for me to raise her at that time.... OR I would have become an ambivalent mother.... in all my discovering of the mess of her life... my relinquished daughters pain.... it has always been at the back of my mind that she would have been better off with me.... even when I say "we can't know what would have happened." I can still point to my raised daughters... none of who have the major pain and issues the relinquished daughter does.... and kind of think, "see.... i could have done it" but i know i am the mother i am today, in large part, BECAUSE i relinquished the first... because it motivated me to be the best mother i could be.... i don't know what it would have been like to raise the first... you know? anyhow... just rambling, i guess.... j

I love it when this happens.. This is where I am lost.. When I tell my story.. I automatically think I am looking for pity.. and shut it down.. Yes.. I was not allowed to tell family members.. My sister and I stopped speaking for years.. twice! I know my sister is not ashamed of me.. thank goodness.. She and I have talked a great deal about this.. It was a road into our getting back into a complete (well maybe) knowing of each other. And its weird.. she had been reading the same books in the years we did not speak.. Adult Children of Alcoholics books.. and how to find the true self books.. Its about not letting others think for us.. by using negative hurting words.. My husband said that when we were fighting in our early marriage.. when things were terribly difficult.. We were down town and fighting on the street.. and he said that.. I think he was trying to scale my emotional wall.. and I turned and walked away from him and did not forgive for a very long time.. It sat in me.. Its hard to stand on our own.. to make our decisions.. Its hard to turn and face and accept our decisions.. But I swear its easier in the long run.. I believe that when we blame we are not.. doing any healing.. we are concentrating on the blaming.. And we are not.. again Julia Cameron.. The Artist Way.. Standing knee deep in the flow of life.. and paying attention.. Standing in the truth.. Those kind of words sends me back into isolation҅ You are sooo right.. Wow.. The role of the hero.. Yes.. For me its like being pulled under.. and theyђ (whoever they are) are in control again.. My truths.. can get lost in the truth of others.. Oh yes.. On the last day of the last nite.. before I signed.. (three months after the birth).. Mom and dad said to me.. Awe Jackie if you really want to keep him we will help you.Ӕ And bam.. I was into taking it on to myself.. years and years and years.. Nothing about the secret keeping.. nothing about keeping me away from the brother in law.. when he came to Florida.. Nothing about the months and months of me being kept away from their home.. because I showed. Nothing about the fake wedding ring I wore and the story about my husband being in Viet Nam.. Just the "Awe Jackie.. you can change your mind".. No true support.. just rugs pulled and then stepping away.. no blame on them! Yes Its like what Susan wrote.. she knew.. she knew what her son would have to face.. I knew.. And now I can rest with my decision because bottom line it was my decision. I approached the agency.. I asked for help.. I was not able to raise him.. Now thats a place of getting angry.. And this is when I get spiritual.. Give to the place of no control.. and God Goddess spirit.. whoever is in control.. My bson has an incredible life.. he has three babies that are going on in another place.. Meant to be.. And this is our learning.. this changing our thinking and then changing it back and then exposing ourselves to ourselves.. in terror.. Its hard.. But we are learning so much.. In AA they say a grateful recovering alcoholic.. The alcoholic that is searching himself and or herself.. My dad died having not sorted many things in his life.. And when he was delusional he had regrets.. and terrors.. I do not want that.. Yes I got pregnant and yes I did the very best I could.. And I can not go back and change.. it.. Yes.. I had a hostile environment.. Dr Phil says if you cant name it you cant sort it.. I think this is one of those naming and sorting things.. and or issues. She was wrong.. My parents were wrong to say at the last minute of the last day.. you can keep him.. I guess it was their get out of jail free card.. Its people controlling other people to me. Someone will say.. ohh that person is not thinking of you.. really.. or thinking of you in the manner you are thinking.. They are thinking of themselves.. Living out of someone elses pocket.. taking their thoughts in and making them our own.. I will not do that any more.. And you have a right to be angry with them.. Angry at the hypocrisy.. Angry at how unfair they are.. You got to walk in our shoes.. I love your understanding.. I also think its essential.. but what gets me.. in a book like The Girls That Went Away.. is that it was written by someone that has not walked the walk.. Yes she intervened women.. and wrote down their words.. But she chose the women.. she chose the interview.. Yes! And the reason I keep coming back.. to posting on line with other women that have walked the walk is that we can have community.. Learn together.. support one another.. And not buckle under the pressure of someone that has an agenda. A put down.. Jackie

Its part of the journey isn’t it.. Finding our anger.. Being allowed our anger.. . And this is the part where we jump off the cliff.. Where we assert our emotional rights.. And that book addresses that.. its facts.. Oh… lets have a thread where we can interject books we are reading.. interject them into the conversations.. What that book says is relevant to the discussion.. Facts.. not fantasy.. As well as me.. I spent nine months figuring out how to NOT raise a baby.. Exactly.. And there is no way.. we can work around that.. I could not give my son a home I did not have a home.. I could not support him.. Facts are facts.. I think I would have been one of those ambivalent mothers.. Heck I tuned in and dropped out after I gave him up.. I had the late sixties.. I went to the concerts.. I belonged to the counter culture.. I had some lessons to learn.. I read the posts of the women that tried and then had to give the baby up.. And I read the posts written by the adoptee or foster child.. come adult.. And how that emotionally affects someone.. Having babies.. getting pregnant at the wrong time in your life.. has consequences.. And we don’t know what we don’t know.. We can guess we can worry it.. we can chew on it.. But we do not know.. We took a different path.. No blame.. Just love.. Jackie

From Jackie's post... "...Nothing about the months and months of me being kept away from their home.. because I showed. Nothing about the fake wedding ring I wore and the story about my husband being in Viet Nam.." Jackie, I sent myself away... away from my family, to do this. I went through a church agency, converted to their religion so that I had access to their social services. They found an elderly couple for me to live with on the opposite side of the state... one of those "private homes" where you do chores and wait... and wait... I went to church, as was expected of me. They wanted me to wear a wedding ring ... I said, "Why should I? I have no husband." They said, "We'll tell people that your husband is in Viet Nam." This was in a church... and I was a war protestor. I took offense at the suggestion. Lies, lies and more lies. I asked, "What is the point of me being away from my family... to tell lies? I am an unwed mother. Deal with it. I won't lie... and I won't let you lie about me... on my behalf... to make me feel better about myself. No. No lies. I am an unwed mother. I am not ashamed of that." I brought my son into the world in a military hospital. I shared an open ward with other new mothers... two of us at one end, the rest at the other -- they sang lullabies to their babies and took their babies home. The other woman and I cried ourselves to sleep at night. She had premature twins and I had a healthy son... we both cried for each other's loss. The open ward was suffocating. I had to get out and away from the others ...I had to walk around. And, when I did, I came across "our husbands" from Viet Nam ... maimed and mangled. How dare the church couple use those men as a coverup for... the legitimacy of my pregnancy. It was disgusting. Not my pregnancy. But, the lies these people would have told... in church... for the sake of appearances. I still shake my head in disbelief... so many layers to the onion... Peace, Susan :flowergift:

Jackie, thank you! I'm sorry for taking so long to respond. I've been in the thick of the sibling "reunion" for the past several weeks and now the aftermath... But I've wanted to tell you that I read every word of your reply, over and over again, and found your insights to be dead on. You KNOW my story; I felt it... Well, a few weeks ago I had the chance to talk with my older brother about my experience. I was visiting my mother, and my brother and his wife came east to visit their new grandchild. This sister-in-law had been my best friend in high school and was with me when I gave birth; she held my son for me when I just couldn't.... She'd been nagging my brother for months to talk to me, telling him that he should act like a brother and give me his support. My brother hadn't thought it was his "place" and didn't want to invade my privacy (as if any of us in this situation needs any more privacy or isolation!) But he finally approached me and asked how I was doing. We ended up pulling an all-nighter, and it was a very beautiful experience. He asked me all kinds of things that no one in my family of origin had ever dared to ask me before--about the relationship with my son's bio-father, the pregancy, birth, and adoption, and what it's been like since my son's return... He asked such specific questions, it was like these things were somehow always on his mind and he was just very curious to know how it felt to have lived and to be living my story. We compared notes on that time so many years ago, the family environment and such. He told me that my mother had forbidden my brothers and sisters to talk with me about my pregnancy; I told him that I had been forbidden to talk to any of them and he cried when I told him that I had also been hidden from my grandmother, with whom he knew I'd always been so close. He said, "That was wrong. Grandma would have been okay." He had never known that this had been done to me. He didn't know that my isolation had been nearly complete, or that I'd wished that someone would ask me what I was feeling. We talked about how many of us were actually adults then, 26, 24, 20, 19, 16, 12; I was 22, yet none of us felt that we could defy my mother and talk about it. I told him that I had felt so much guilt and shame over hurting all of them that I was paralyzed to do anything but obey, even at my age. He understood, he was two years older than me, and yet he, too, obeyed and kept silent... He asked about my reasons for placing my son, and did I regret it, did I now think it was a mistake. This was just amazing to me, to have a family member who had the courage to ask me this and even more, to risk hearing my answer, that yes, I now believe it was a mistake, that all the reasons could have been resolved, all the problems conquered, had I felt that I had the right support to be a good mother to my child. I told him I thought my mother was trying to protect everyone, that I knew she loved me, but just didn't know how to help me do other than to help with the adoption, which she did. My brother looked me in the eye and said, "We failed you. This large, loving family failed you." He told me that our family should have found a way to help me with my child. Yes, I felt that I was finally, at long last, "standing in the truth..." This was a healing moment for both of us, and my brother promised to use his experience of this conversation with me to facilitate understanding and acceptance in my family. He was pretty shocked to realize that we have a couple of siblings who still haven't told their children about their cousin. Of course, we both agreed that it will soon be a moot point. The annual family Christmas gathering is coming up just before New Year's. My mother says she can't wait to see my son and she has begun writing to him, telling him she had always prayed she'd see him again after all these years, last having seen him at just 5 days old, more than 28 years ago.... Thank you, Jackie. I'll keep you posted.... Best, Susanne

Awesome, Susanne!My brother is two years older than me as well... I was 18, he was 20. He has shown little interest in my reunion. I hope that we can have a heart-to-heart talk at some point, but I'm not counting on it. His loss, as far as I'm concerned. Still, it would be nice if he at least asked how I'm doing...I'm soooo happy for you, Susanne!Peace,Susan

I am fallen right back into that time when I read your words Susan.. Uncaring.. people.. I had a woman put next to me that was keeping her baby.. The girl across from me was giving up like me.. She (the woman keeping) asked her doctor to be removed from our presence.. I felt guilty! Can you believe that.. Ya I guess you can.. After I gave the bson up I traveled back to Canada.. A few years later.. Then I tuned in and dropped out of that society that was so incredibly hypocritical.. I can remember draft dodgers staying in houses of friends in Toronto.. and I remember men or boys coming across the border after being in prison for refusing to go.. or deserting.. One fellow was soooo white.. His skin was the wrong color.. That war gives me terrible pain.. If a song comes on that is about it.. I cry.. Dire Straits - Brothers In Arms ELO Kuiama Electric Light Orchestra Ii (1973) Kuia in this country, they got rules with no reason

They teach you to kill and they send you away

With your gun in your hand, you pick up your pay

So cool, that no mercy tool. Whenever I want to bring on the emotions I just sit and listen to that piece of music.. Jackie

Susanne do not worry.. I send my missives into the nether and then wander away.. And when the reply or comment comes I just sit and read.. It’s a dangling conversation this.. It’s a universal truth that keeps coming back.. I just read the quote from ELO in the post (above) “They teach you to kill and they send you away

With your gun in your hand, you pick up your pay

So cool, that no mercy tool.” That no mercy tool.. My mom.. your mom.. Anything for the keeping our head up.. scenario. I finally spoke with my sister about what happened.. we were separated and I was not allowed to tell her.. She said that if we had of told about me being pregnant she would have gotten it big time from her husbands parents.. They were ‘proper’.. Its all a person needs isn’t it.. The reason behind not speaking about a terrible traumatic event is so incredibly flawed.. And its toxic for some.. I read the words of the adoptee that is refused contact.. and I just shake my head.. And I think of the woman buried alive in her secret keeping.. in her thinking that if she talks about it the sky will fall.. or bad things will happen. And the pain keeps on giving.. How nice that your brother and you have spoken.. My Naomi and Davie my second and third born.. become close then they fight and it falls apart.. I hope and pray they stay close.. Families should not separate off.. My sister and I stopped speaking.. for years. We learn.. My bson and my sisters son met for a dinner and drinks once.. My sisters son was in my bsons city on business.. they got on.. they liked each other.. What a thing.. Jackie

Susan, I know what you mean. I have 3 brothers and 3 sisters, and only my youngest sister, youngest sibling emailed to ask how I was doing when I first heard from the third party that my son had been looking for me (indirectly, but that's another story...) I have had constant support from two of my sisters-in-law, both of whom knew me in high school, before they knew my brothers. It seems that being "once-removed" makes it easier to offer support in my family. My mother told me that I couldn't expect anyone to pay that much attention to it, since they were all so busy; that they just weren't feeling that the return of my son was all that relevant to their lives. Of course it seemed crazy to me that this return of the "secret kid" is such an ordinary thing to them that they can treat it with such nonchalance! And my mother's comment sounded like I should stop looking for attention or something (a "high crime" in my family, to call too much attention to yourself, a sin of pride...) I always suspected it was something else, that what was really happening was that no one wanted to remember or call attention to this shameful period in my family's history. I've posted elsewhere that my family of origin has no marriages ended by death or divorce, no children from previous relationships, no second marriages, no "blendedness." I truly landed myself far "outside" the family culture and everyone would just as soon forget it. I think they're pretty ambivalent, because they all love babies so much; all of our children--27 grandchildren in all, now that I'm allowed to count J among them--are cherished by all of us. And so I know they want to welcome my son into this group. But they don't have a category for him and in such a narrowly structured family, they're all trying to figure out where to put a son who has a father--and my son has two, bio and adopted!--who isn't a family member. I know it sounds anal and silly, but it's really what's happening here. Consequently, no one wants to talk about it, and so they act disinterested and busy. And I think when they're forced to deal with it, as they are with the family holiday party approaching, they can't help but think about how I disrupted the family 28-29 years ago, presenting evidence of my unacceptable behavior and choices and forcing them to confront that "these things" do, indeed, happen in our family! Over the past couple of months, things have gotten somewhat better. I've had a couple of good talks and letters exchanged with my mother, and it feels like we're getting somewhere normal. My dad still hasn't said a word to me directly, but that's not unusual so it doesn't bother me. My oldest sister has called to say she'd like me to feel free to share anything, and I've been able to talk to her some. She still has this weird judgement about the sex-without-marriage piece (bizarre to me to fixate on such a thing when we're all in our 40s and 50s now!) but I know she's really trying. And she even organized a "grandchildren scrapbook" for my mother that includes my firstborn, and I'll love her always for this. Now that my oldest brother has broken the ice and there's been some direct, but less detailed contact with another, I think the youngest one may come around, and may even tell his kids about J before the family party. I still don't know about my younger sister, who has been the most remote; at first she was extremely vocal about not talking about "adult topics in front of the children" (her oldest is 17!), and since July she has been silent and we've barely spoken. She is furous with me for forcing her to have to discuss this with her children. I haven't tried to force her, but she knows that J's presence in my family and at the family party forces the issue. I still don't know where that will lead, but in less than a month I will, I guess... I think that both the timing of my pregnancy--in the teen and young adult stages of my siblings-- but even more so, my parents' reaction to it, set all of us up for this stonewalling, denial-fest in my family with regard to J's return to us. I've posted elsewhere that although when different family members heard the story of his painful upbringing and adolescence they were mostly of the opinion that he needs us, I maintain that we probably need him more. This family has a lot to learn and isn't it wonderful and ironic that it'll likely be that this thrice-abandoned, former drug-abusing, high school drop-out will be the one to teach us? Makes me giggle just to think about it.... I hope you hear from your brother and one day finally have that heart-to-heart. I agree: if you don't, it's truly his loss. Hugs, Susanne

Interesting that you mention your sisters-in-law. My brother's ex-wife, I guess that makes her my sister-out-law (LOL!)... has been incredibly supportive. In fact, she will soon begin communicating with R's amom via email. AND, she's helping me to plan a multi-family reunion next year to introduce R and his amom and asis to all his cousins and other family members. My sister-out-law's oldest son (my brother's oldest son) flew from Texas to Washington for our "mini" reunion in October. And yet, my brother can't seem to be bothered with sending a simple, short email. Yup. His loss x 10. For now, I'll settle for celebrating with his ex-wife and their six adult children and 20 grandchildren. As my drill sergeant said to us, "One monkey don't stop no show." LOL! Peace, Susan :flowergift: