Welcome back to Blogville my friends. Thank you for always coming back and reading what I have to say. Even I am surprised by my thoughts sometimes. This blog is a good example. Maybe it is because Mother’s Day just passed and with Father’s Day looming I keep thinking about mom and dad and how I wish I could pick up the phone and say all of my unsaid words to them. But, sadly, it is too late for that. So I have decided to write them a posthumous letter instead while I sip on my hibiscus tea. I thought I might share it with you. (Trigger warning- emotional, grief)

Dear Mom and Dad,

The other day I picked up the phone to call my friend and was almost finished dialling your old phone number before I realized what I was doing. I feel that maybe, subconsciously, there were things I left unsaid before each of you left this life. I wonder if this many years needed to pass after losing each of you before I could say these things out loud. I’m sorry I could not say them sooner, or say them to both of you but here they are with all my heart.

Mom and dad, I thank you for being there, for saying yes when the worker called to ask you if you would be interested in adopting me, a nine month old baby girl. So the story goes mom, you called dad at work to share the news and make sure he was in agreement before you called the worker back to say ‘YES!’. I know that you then called all your friends, most of them also adoptive parents, to tell them the good news. I know you felt especially fortunate to be offered a baby as young as I was because you used to tell me how only people who could afford to adopt privately got the newborns. I’m sorry I was so old when I moved in with you mom, however, other than often hearing the story about private adoptions and newborns, I know you were excited to begin parenting a fairly young baby. I also know that if you knew how it made me feel, you would have stopped telling the “private newborn” story in front of me and my brother who was 2 1/2 years old when you adopted him. How could you have known how it felt to have been reminded that you were really a consolation prize? Dad, when I look at the old film of the day I arrived, I can see that you thought I was pretty small, young, and breakable judging by the fear on your face when mom handed me to you for the first time (even though you were trying to look natural and relaxed for the filmographer). Despite my being adopted, you and I had the same sticking-out ears, which was obvious in the film clip where you first held me. Our similar ears, blue eyes and our tall, thin builds made us a great accidental match as father and daughter. If the whole town hadn’t known I was adopted, I bet we could have fooled people. 

Mom and dad, I thank you for the excitement and pride you both demonstrated on the day I arrived (and I really thank the family friend who brought a film camera that day). To me, my arrival day film is like a birth video without all the yelling, blood, and people passing out!

Mom, I know you had to advocate with your family doctor and with the hospital to arrange for my umbilical hernia surgery, a condition of my placement with you. After meeting my foster mother a while back I learned that whole thing was kind of a race. She, who wanted to keep me as long as possible was trying to make arrangements in her community for the surgery and my recovery as soon as she could, while in some weird kind of custody race, you were also trying to make those same arrangements in your community happen sooner. You won! I could hear the hurt in your voice mom when you would tell the tale of how I had to be hospitalized for that surgery almost immediately after arriving into the family. It hurt you deeply when I was more easily comforted by the nursing staff than by you. I wish you had known mom that I had been cared for by nurses (likely in uniform in those days) for many weeks from my birth until my agency sent a worker to collect me. So, naturally, nurses would have been more comforting to a nine month old baby than you, sadly a virtual stranger to me at that point, would have been. I had already lived with a few strangers (multiple foster home placements) in my short lifetime, so I’m pretty sure I was somehow just trying to protect myself. I’m sorry mom, that must have been so hard for you, thank you for continuing to visit with me despite my apparent rejection of you while in hospital. If you were still here , I know you would simply say, “Oh, that’s just what mothers do Lynn.” 

I thank you and dad for saying yes despite having minimal information about me and virtually no information about my biological family members. In fact, it turns out there was even huge misinformation, such as being told I had an older birth brother who had been kept by the family and that my birth mother had been made to give me up because her parents did not want to ‘encourage that behaviour’. As it turned out, that baby boy was actually a baby girl who had also been placed for adoption. When I found this out in my twenties you were pretty ticked off that you had been given the wrong information. You felt complicit in the lies, though you were as innocent a victim of misinformation as I was. The adoption process in those days was incredibly poor, but you and dad made it work. The trauma I experienced was caused by my abandonment at birth, not only by my birth parents but by my entire child protection agency, and finally, by suddenly being moved (again) from a foster family that actually cared for me. These traumas were not caused by you and dad, but you were left to manage my trauma behaviours without any real support. Thank you for doing your best to mitigate those early traumas. 

Thank you for maintaining friendships with other adoptive families in our community (long before support groups became a thing) so that I didn’t feel like a weirdo. All of us children were aware that we had been adopted and I strongly believe there was some comfort in knowing that adoption was a ‘thing’, that it wasn’t simply because of something I had done to make my birth parents not want to keep me and parent me. I remember watching an old show in those days filmed in Toronto called “Family Finder” where children available for adoption were showcased in the hopes of finding  adoptive families for them. I also recall seeing a newspaper column called “Today’s Child” with the same goal of matching children with adopting families. I would sometimes wonder if any of my adopted friends had been ‘found’ that way. I remember my brother treating Family Finder’ a bit like a shopping channel, searching for that baby brother he always wanted (but never got). I also remember when I was a bit older wondering if I would have been dressed up and made to go on tv or to a photo shoot if you hadn’t said yes to the adoption worker when she called, although I’m not sure if that television show or the newspaper column existed when I was made available for adoption. Apparently the TV show was sponsored by Mattel and all the children profiled got some pretty cool toys for their starring roles as available orphans. Hmmm, a new Barbie or you two as my parents? I think I got the better ‘prize.”

Mom, you were always gentle and as truthful as you thought was right when I would ask questions about my story, or my adopted friends’ stories. Dad, I think you were terrified of saying the wrong thing, so you would get that ‘deer in the headlights’ look and say, “Go ask your mother.” Mom, you were always kind about my birth mother and her ‘situation’, although it sometimes hurt when you would say her loss was your gain. I know you meant well, but her loss was my loss too. In fact all of us adopted children who played together had trauma and loss issues that impacted on many of us in different ways as time went on. I do thank you for building relationships with other families who became like my extended family. Oh and growing up as an adoptee, one benefit was that at least I knew a worker had delivered me to you, not some weird Stork!

Fast forward to when I sought out that birth brother, who turned out to be a birth sister! I will never forget the support I felt from you about seeking a relationship with that older, biological sibling. Not that at age 32 I needed your consent, but as your daughter I felt that I needed your blessing. You gave it freely. When you met my birth sister mom, you were warm, accepting, and curious. You even told her that if you and dad had known about her, you would have adopted her too, and I knew you meant it. Afterwards, you would always ask about her, and how she was doing. I know that must have been hard for you and dad, and I thank you for understanding my need to find her and for accepting her into our lives. 

When I found and met my birth father, I never told you dad. I cannot explain why really, except that it felt like somehow I was betraying you. There was a little daddy’s girl in me that did not want to ever be the cause of any hurt in your eyes. I think people accept that adopted children might one day want to find their birth mother to understand why they were given up, but the birth father is somehow seen simply as a sperm donor left out of the tough decision making. This is not completely true, many birth fathers did not know they had a biological child in the world and are happy when they are ‘found’. When I told you mom, that our birth mother was not interested in meeting my birth sister and I, you simply said, “I’m sorry to hear that, but Lynn, it’s her loss if she doesn’t want to meet you and your sister.” That’s not completely true, it was actually a loss for all three of us, but I understood what you were saying. Thank you mom, for making that situation about her, not me, and for making me feel that I was worth meeting. 

Mom, when I was in my 60s and you in your 90s I was able to locate and meet my last foster mother, the one who fought hard to keep me for the surgery. When I told you about meeting her and what a nice person she is you heard me out, looked me in the eye, and then said simply, “Did you thank her for me?” 

I miss you Mom and Dad
Love, 
Lynn


Once again, thank you for joining me in Blogville. I always appreciate your comments on my thoughts whether here, or more privately, by email [email protected] I’ll ‘see’ you next time. ​

Hi everyone, welcome back to Blogville. I am sipping on a wild raspberry hibiscus herbal tea as I write to you. I really did not know what flavour to choose today for our visit. Something sweet and flavourful because I want to reach out to adoptive parents and talk about fantasy versus reality in the hopes of encouraging that they can talk with their children about it too.

As I’m sure you are aware, your children and youth think about their birth parents. What you might not know is that only rarely are they comparing you with their idea of what their birth parents might be like. In case you had not noticed, if they take place at all, these comparisons tend to occur when you have disagreed with your child or youth, given them a consequence, or otherwise put some kind of expectations on them. After all, their birth parents would never be so ‘mean’.

In your child or youth’s mind, their birth parents would let them have a tattoo, or let them stay the weekend with friends, or give them a bigger allowance, or whatever the current issue is. That being said, I appreciate how hard it is not to state what their birth parents did not do, that is . . .stick around to parent them. This is where self-control comes in, I mean yours of course, not your child’s. 

The closest other scenario I can think of involves step-parents. I have noted that even when children cannot stand them, those same step-parents sure come in handy to throw in their biological parents’ faces. I mean, they might not have any idea how their absent biological parents might handle a scenario but somehow they know they would handle it better than their step-parent, and they tell them so. Even when children or youth are living with both biological parents, their friends’ parents usually serve as great models with whom they can compare their parents to at any moment (i.e. “Rebecca’s mother said she can go!”). The bottom line here is that the child or youth that you are parenting is stuck with you, your rules, your expectations, and your parenting style, no matter how you came to be their parent. Adoptive parents just somehow seem to be easier targets at times.

I think the greatest hurt occurs when adopted children are comparing their adoptive parents’ behaviour to their birth parents’ imagined behaviour. How do parents compete with that? I think adoptive parents must have to bite their tongues a lot in order to avoid saying negative things about their child’s birth parents, don’t you? I remember wanting to shout at my mom about how much better and more fair my birth mother probably was but then I stopped myself. I was both hopeful and afraid that my mom might tell me to go live with her. There were exactly twelve steps to stomp on as I made my way upstairs to my room. I can still feel the shake of my childhood bed as I threw myself down on it in anger. I remember thinking that my parents were jerks and being unfair and fantasizing that my birth mother would be flawlessly amazing. I was sure of it. I imagined my tall, slender, and beautiful birth mother entering my room, putting her hand on my shoulder and telling me that she would never treat me like that, and further, that if I lived with her, I could do whatever I wanted. My inner child was both shocked and disappointed when I later met her adult children and they informed me that she was pretty much just a normal, sometimes even irritating parent, the way most parents are. No wonder my mother never said a word. . . she must have known in her heart that no matter what, parents parent in what they believe is the best interest of their children, despite their children’s reactions.

In my mind, as I was being raised, I could do better; just as I believe many adopted children also felt. I have heard biological kids wishing that their friend’s mom was their own mom, or that their gym teacher was their dad, or in general that their parents were not their parents. For an adopted person, there is some confusion about this thinking, often making it hard to understand birth children’s ‘fantasy parent’ thoughts. After all, in our reality, our birth parent(s) actually believed that someone else could do a better job parenting them than they could, or wanted to, and they gave away their parental rights to us. Therefore, hearing their friend’s wishes/fantasies about changing parents can be confusing to adopted people who often know nothing more about their biological parents than the fact that they left them. This makes it hard to understand why someone would even consider replacing the parents who wanted and kept them.

As you are likely aware, I am also confused by the ‘real parent’ thinking in our society. I mean most of us know that society has it wrong, the adoptive parents are the ‘real’ parents and the biological parents are exactly that, the biological or birth parents. No more, no less. Birth parents may be responsible for the child being on this planet, but their adoptive parents are responsible for helping the child learn to contribute positively to society and care for, or at least about, the people they share this planet with. Always having to explain/defend the fact that your real parents are the ones who took responsibility for you, not the ones who biologically created you, can be tough.

It is also easier to accept the idea that the birth parents could not cope with parenthood at the time the child was born, and that everyone had agreed that the child would be better off with their adoptive parents. After all, if this was not the case, there must have been something wrong with the child for them to have been rejected and available for adoption right? Despite being told that her parents had made my birth mother place me on adoption, I have always tried to cope with feeling that it was something I did as a newborn to make her walk away from that home for unwed mothers, leaving me behind, and never looking back. 

Let’s talk a minute about open adoptions; where there is ongoing contact between the adopted person and members of their birth family. The birth parent, or even a grandparent wants to know how the child is doing while the adoptive parent is actually parenting of the child. The adoptive parents’ parenting responsibility does not change in an open adoption even where a birth parent is able to send gifts, write letters, or even have visits while the child is still a minor. The adoptive parents may have to put boundaries around gift giving (don’t send a horse, we live in a condo) but openness can be good when it makes sense for the child. The adoptive parents may have to pick up the emotional pieces after a visit between birth parents and their birth children but I believe the child may feel less rejected when they have openness with a member or members of their birth family. As I did not have openness, this is purely speculation. However, openness may be a topic for another blog, so I will leave that topic here.

My birth mother was a great mother to the children she was later able to have and raise once she was settled down and in a stable relationship. Her relinquishment decision following my birth allowed me to have loving parents. She gave me the gift of parents who were already settled down in their stable relationship and ready to be parents. But oh, how growing up with such a loss allowed me to fantasize. In my child’s mind my birth mother was perfect when my parents were imperfect, she was kind when I thought they were being mean, reasonable when compared to my unreasonable parents. Only as an adult did I finally realize the truth that my parents accepted me, loved me, and lived with me while trying to raise their daughter to be a good person. All this, despite my not having been born to them, sorry for your loss birth mother.

My dear adoptive parents, you cannot stop your child from thinking about and comparing you to their fantasy birth parents, any more than you can stop fantasizing about what your birth child might have been like. All you can do is put all the fantasy and reality in the adoption process into perspective and live your best lives. 

Thank you for continuing to read my thoughts my Blogville friends. I do love hearing from you whether on here, or via my email, [email protected] 
Until next time.