Friday, January 21, 2011


"He who has a why to live can bear almost any how."
~Friedrich Nietzsche

Why did things have to turn out this way? Why did I trust those people who only used me then tossed me aside for what was in my womb? Why did I have to lose my son needlessly? Why did my family not reach out to help their daughter, sister, niece and grandaughter and say NO, don't do this!!!??? Why were they never there for me, especially after the most traumatic event of my life? Was a 20 year old young woman that horrible of a person? Why did I self destruct-the the brink of death and back, only to have survived to live with what has become of my life, every day? Why am I sitting here at 41 years old hating what adoption and all that it entails has done to my life? Will I always suffer? Will I ever be normal again? Normal being actually "feeling" like a normal human being with friends and family and a future that looked oh so bright; oh so long ago...

I ask myself these questions on a regular basis.

Really, I am not some psychotic, ranting woman who slobbers all over herself, has no teeth and locks herself away from everyone, to live the rest of my days as a vagrant to society. I just cannot, at times, reconcile why this has happened to me and why I will never be the person I was, before adoption came into my life.

I like to think that I function quite well. I am intelligent, well spoken, in great shape and take great pride in my appearance. However, I don't feel "right". I walk down the street and see happy couples, families and friends so carefree and happy. I remember what it was like to be like that and I get very sad that I know I will never be "right" again.

Something is always amiss. Something is always wrong. My child is missing from my life. He walks the earth, calls some other woman mom and her husband dad, goes home to visit them, calls them on the phone, spends holidays with them and I am left here. The forgotten one, the one noone wanted around. Too much of an inconvenience. My life was a living hell for so many years and they all go on like everything is just peachy king. Yeah, it pisses me off.

I have days, when things are okay and I feel semi-normal. Most of those days and moments are when my I am with my son. All of those moments are with him, actually. He is going to grow up one day and have a life of his own. I only hope that my adoption trauma has not effected him as it has me. I never, ever want him to know the pain I have had to live. I want him to be normal and always feel "right" in this world.

Post reunion has not been good for me or my lost son; as in our relationship. Yes, I should have kept my big mouth shut, but I felt I had every right to contact his saintly adopter mother and tell her how I felt about what she did to me. I met this woman and spent time with her before he was born. I knew her before he did. I chose this woman who told me to "trust her". It was my choice of her and what she did to me that caused the living hell I had lived for the last 19 years. Your damn right I had a right to send her a message on Facebook... with her fake, phony smile beaming out to me from Facebookland, on MY son's Facebook page.

Not one time did she reach out to me after I found my son. Not one time did she say she was sorry for "losing contact", (yeah, that was their lame excuse). Not one time did she or any of her family offer one kind word to me or my youngest son. That sealed the deal. I officially abhorred her, and all of them for that matter. They called themselves such good Christians, yet could not offer even a simple hello to the woman who made their happiness possible, (at the expense of mine and my families happiness, without my child).

I did not want to hurt my son by confronting her, but his concern was for her; for them and only them. He refused to hear the truth of what had happened to US, so our relationship was severed. We only had an email relationship anyway; which was very controlled by them I highly suspect; but I committed the ultimate faux pas by speaking up for myself against untouchable, saintly, savior adopter mother.

How dare I. She get's off scot free after promising me things she knew she was never going to deliver on, to obtain my child and I am supposed to sit silently in the corner, like meek little "burfmommy"; forever cast to the shadows. HA! I think they had me slightly mistaken for someone else. I wonder how many times now they wish they had gotten another "birthmother", instead of one who actually stood up for the crime against humanity that was committed against myself and my son.

My son does not want me to ever contact them again, as I was told in November of
'09. Under no circumstances. He then posted a bible quote on his Facebook page that read something to the effect of "The wrath of God this or that". WOW. I am now the devil and god will strike me dead for dare speaking out against saintly adopter mother.

So let me get this straight. I got screwed in an open adoption, make every effort to find my child so he can know the truth of his life and what happened, then am apparently not allowed to speak up for what happened to me withouth being told to "never contact us again" and am now an evil devil who will be punished by the wrath of god.

So here we had a twenty year old woman, scared, vulnerable and trusting of people who tell her that she is doing the right thing for her child by relinguishing him because she is too young, too unmarried and too unwealthy. She goes through with this crime against humanity, (adoption), gets conned in a fraudulent open adoption just a few short years later. All of what is happening now, some twenty years later, is all I have for the hell I lived through all these years. Being called the devil by my own child, who will be punished by the wrath of god for daring to speak out against my oppressors, his adopters and the greedy baby brokers who facilited the whole thing.

Thanks adoption. Thanks a bunch. That win-win for all you liked to tout as the cure all in adoption... please tell me when that is going to come to fruition for me. I haven't felt like I've won much of anything in any of this. Especially now.

Silence = Oppression. Hence the name of this blog. I will never be silenced. Not my my son's adopters, and not even by him. I love him and wanted him in my life more than life itself, but I will not be told that I can have no voice in what has happened to me and to HIM. I DO NOT blame my son. He has been brainwashed by these people. I know this but he refuses to see it. Until he does things will have to be the way they are; and I hate every minute of it. He has the truth. What he chooses to do with it is up to him.

Why? I'll I can ever say is why? I feel like I am in a nightmare I cannot wake up from sometime, until I see my youngest son's smiling face and I know that things are going to be okay. Thank you, Ian.


  1. Hi,

    I'm so sorry that you've been through such a terrible experience and that the loss of your son continues to affect your life in this way. You sound so anguished. I understand a little of what you've experienced, though it would be naive and unkind of me to tell you that 'I know how you feel' as I'm not you and none of us can ever truly feel the pain of another. I hope that as you continue to pour out your heart on this blog, that somehow the act of writing will in some measure prove therapeutic and perhaps release some of your anger and hurt.

    My story is both similar and different from yours and my journey has been long and hard, but all I can tell you is that although our hearts can never entirely heal - it is possible to eventually come to a place of relinquishment and find a measure of peace and meaning in our lives. I wish you courage on your journey.

  2. Sara:

    Thank you for your thoughts and kind words.

    Yes, the loss of my child continues to affect in my life in a negative way. It has since the moment I left the hospital without him. I read a little of your story and I think you just may know a little of how I feel at the loss of your child to adoption as well; although we all have out own ways of working through the grief.

    While it does and always will affect my life in a negative way, I am living my life in spite of it and will do all I can to have a productive, happy life. That is the warrior in me. Adoption and the people who decieved me will not take that from me. I won't allow it. The son I did not lose is owed that. The son I did lose is owed that by me as well; even though we are not in one another's lives.

    I agree. The act of writing has been theraputic. Writing and creativity is one of my great loves. If my words help one woman not make the same mistake I did, I will be happy.

    Best regards to you...