Adoptions' False Promises
My adoption reunion had a surprising twist but not at all easy or predictable or even easy to put into simple words. As it turns out I have legal reasons to legally challenge the court for my birth certificate, as I am plagued with hereditary illnesses and diseases, but it was my own biological child that needed biological family to find a biological bone marrow donor. Through non identifying information I and the internet search angels helped me to get not just names but phone numbers. Many of them found the same information and were all trying to get me to pick their answers as many wanted video rights to publicize my personal reunion. I am a privacy freak and was horrified at the idea, immediately I closed them all down, but one called my mom before I was ready to digest the information, and put a jump start on the process before I was mentally ready to embark on the journey. The phone started ringing and I was horrified hiding from the person calling, my mother. She called three times and got pissed off and yelled at me into my answering machine. I was beside my self in horror! I thought I already have one abusive adoptive mother, and I can't tolerate another. It took me time....To begin to write to her via email. This is my comfort zone. With a narcissistic adoptive mother, I prefer to write what is said so I have a clear understanding of what Is said and what is not said, having a record to re-read if in question.
Talking, I was never allowed and when I did things always get turned around where I seem to be the bad adopted daughter, I only talk in-writing.
My biological REAL mother and I began corresponding emails and that is comfortable. But the tone from my real mother was superficial. She had me investigated because she thought that I was after money....I am still so shocked by this. The superficial writing was dragging on my mind and I told her if she was not going to be real, than I would not continue to talk, and I'd see her at the next family funeral.
The medical family history was shrugged off by my mother, I had to painstakingly interview my father, my paternal grandmother. It was the relationship with my maternal aunt and my paternal sister which
that constitutes my new family. They are real and truthful as I will be nothing but truthful, having spend my life in adoption secrets, lies and deceptions.
The first phone call to my father, he welcomed me with open arms, the welcome that all adopted children dream of happened to me with my paternal father. After a year of talking on the phone, I hopped a plane across the united states alone without any posse, to dive into my paternal ancestry by myself. The kind of discovery that adoptees need to take on solo. I am better for it, I met my grandmother who has been waiting for forty years to meet me. I was so lucky to know my grandmother, as she died a year later. I am her spitting image, her mini-me, I am my grandmother living presently in the flesh. All of her photo albums I see myself in her. It is no wonder that my own mother denies me because she sees my father in me and my father's mother, as I am my denied father's daughter. The reunion began six years ago and I am finally on the path to a genuine real personal Identity. Although in the present moment I can not tolerate the lies that I am forced to live in the form of my identification papers. I refuse to renew my drivers license as that person that name is not mine. I am 45 years old with an identity crisis that can only be resolved through a legal name and identity change. I am not that person and no law can force me to remain that bastard adopted child anymore. When people call me by that name I cringe with anger and refusal saying over and over "that is not my name"! It never was and will never be me.
What my reunion has taught me is that my biological mother has lied about everything to me, even lied when I asked her why she picked Arkansas to live?
The truths come from my mother's sisters, my biological brothers and their wives. It seems that both my biological parents have filled my desperate need to know the truth with make up things that make them look better then the reality of what they have done with their lives after abandoning me so that they could live a better life. The reality that my adoption was to replace a families dead child and was a miserable adoption mistake, that I was verbally, physically and sexually abused by the adoptive family that was supposed to take my biological parent's sexual mistake of birth and made it worse is surely guilt provoking to them. As it should be, they were irresponsible and they blew me off and got rid of me. My father's guilt has ruined his life with alcohol, my mother ruined her life by giving me up and trying to play the good Christian by the rules, has truly denied herself a life with her chosen sons, that she abandoned to babysitters, relatives and the swing shift. My parents did not go on to finish college, or do anything notable with their lives they were mentally destroyed by their mistake in believing and buying into the promises that adoption lied to them. They are broken beyond repair playing out the painstaking days of their lives. I am the same, playing out the days I have left trying to make sense of childhood abuse, adoption abuse, my adoptee life of despair and the sad reality of my dear real parents all broken and lives conquered by the false adoption promises.