Welcome back to Blogville my friends. I think that a Forget Me Not Flower tea is in order today (yes, there really is such a thing). Some of its health benefits are purported to be reducing high blood pressure and soothing the nerves. I’m not sure where this blog will head but it feels like it is going to be risky but also raw. I’m sharing my feelings in this regard so that if you know people who were adopted you may benefit from this read. Again, this is limited to my experience and does not automatically apply to other people, even if they were also adopted.


You know, blogging brings up so many things that I honestly did not even know about myself. I guess there is something in the self-reflection of blogging that brings it on. People who know me would likely describe me as having a dry wit and often sarcastic sense of humour. When I began this journey I kind of expected it would be more like a humour blog where I would let my hair down and laugh, or hopefully make you laugh. That happens sometimes, but I am surprised at how much raw emotion I feel when I blog. I am sometimes unable to continue typing because of my sobbing. I suppose folks would say it is cathartic, I just think it is weird. 


As an example, this very blog started out as a fun way to look at what I miss out on because I am afraid of flying. But then something occurred to me the other day that was much more painful than I expected. I suddenly began to wonder if, as a person who was adopted, I am afraid because flying is just another circumstance where I’m not in control, like when the world decided who should parent me, instead of the ‘natural’ order. 


I was recently thinking about some of my friends that I hung around with while growing up in Cochrane, Ontario; Susan, Julia, Patty, Claudette, Barbara, Lorraine, Debbie, to name a few. When we were growing up, my friends and I would meet and go sliding, or bowling, to a movie, or to Winter Carnival adventures. Later, when we came of age, we would go as small groups to house parties and to the bars. A few of us even worked together at the local arena where we could shamelessly flirt with the hockey players. I mean, I certainly never would, but my friends sure did. I did not have their self-confidence. As my mind wanders back to the past, I’m shocked at how clearly I am remembering how hurt I would feel when any of my friends hung out together, but without me.


For example, if I heard that some of my friends had gone to a hockey game, or to the show without inviting me, I remember that I felt left behind, abandoned. As ridiculous as it sounds I would honestly wonder what was wrong with me to make them abandon me, or to not want to be with me, in an effort to understand why they would leave me behind. Was I not worth being with? I know that I am not alone with these thoughts in the world of people who were adopted. We seem to be more sensitive to feelings of abandonment, even when that was never the intent of the folks involved. It is noteworthy to mention that if I knew about an event, and chose not to go, I never felt that sense of abandonment. I guess maybe I felt a sense of control given that it was my decision.


Thinking about control leads me down another ‘rabbit hole’. I struggle when I am a passenger in a car, which suddenly leads me to wonder now, is it because when I drive, I’m in control? Additionally, I honestly have no sense of direction and cannot read a *map so I’m a terrible navigator (*map reading: a skill that mattered before Google maps, vehicle navigation systems, and Global Positioning Systems). Suddenly I question if those are really the reasons I prefer to drive or is it just a deeper need for control? After all, if I’m driving, no one can drive away and abandon me somewhere.


You know when I said how hurt I felt in my youth when my friends made plans without me? I still feel it, when I’m left behind. I’m 66 years old and I can still feel abandoned. I think it might be related to my actual abandonment in infancy. There is that sinking feeling when, again, I realize that I must have been worthless for that to have happened to me, as a tiny infant. So, how can I expect to feel valued as a grown adult? Often I have proof that my friends have a better time if I’m not there. I see it in the photos they send me or that I find posted on their Facebook pages. Oh the fun they all have without me, no wonder they make plans around me and not with me. Often it makes me feel invisible and disposable, again, left behind. Please know I am not feeling sorry for myself here or trying to make anyone feel uncomfortable, I just feel a deep need to share this for other people who are walking the adoption journey who may feel this too. I want them to know that they are not alone, that they matter, that they are worthwhile.


I usually deal with stress through humour. People who know me can attest to my dry wit and sarcasm. So when I feel uncomfortable you can count on me making a joke (good or bad). Is it because when I am making people laugh, I feel more in control? Or is it that I think if I make them laugh then they might believe I’m worth having around? What good am I, if I’m not funny?  I have tried hard to learn how to just be quiet, to control myself in those uncomfortable social situations. The result? People ask me if everything is ok. Then I feel like I am letting them down by trying to suppress that ‘class clown’ persona I tend to put forward. It feels like I need to make people laugh so that I might be worth having around, then maybe they won’t leave me behind?


Sometimes I feel like I have two different personalities. The first personality is strong, confident and outgoing while the second personality curls into a ball of worthlessness when left behind, or left out. I feel that the first personality is the result of being raised in a loving and caring family where I was truly wanted and loved. I feel the second personality is the result of being left behind as a newborn infant. My birth mother left me behind, expecting that I would be placed into a loving and caring family as noted above. If she had known that I would be left behind in that hospital cot for about a month waiting for a worker from my parent agency to come for me, would she have waited with me? Would she have acted differently if she knew that it would take a letter from the Sister in charge to my parent agency asking for me to be picked up as they needed my cot for another “unwanted baby” before a worker was sent to get me? The first personality tries to shake off those feelings of abandonment by acting strong, confident, and outgoing. By acting in control.


I cannot control the life decisions that were made on my behalf. I know my parents loved me and cared about me, even when people treated me like I was some sort of consolation prize for them because they couldn’t have “children of their own”. Know this, I am my parents’ own daughter! People need to stop saying things like that to children who were adopted. Think about it, the people who could have “children of their own” (my birth parents) chose not to parent me, while my parents loved and accepted me as their daughter, not their ‘adopted daughter’. Adoptive parents should not be pitied, they should be admired, they are fearless! They leave no one behind.


Even though I was raised in a loving and caring family you still need to understand that first, I had to be left behind by my birth parents, before I could be chosen by my ‘real’ parents. So, for me (maybe not for other adopted people) I feel a need to be in control, to be accepted, and to be included. When I am left behind, even at my age, I still feel it is my fault. When I drive while my husband is a content passenger, don’t judge him for being weak but for being strong enough to support me and the little abandoned infant I once was. He’s a good guy who loves and accepts me, faults and all. Like my parents, he chose me too.


I sometimes feel like an alcoholic might feel when they get sober and people stop inviting them to events where alcohol may be served: uninvited; left behind. So, even if you know I am afraid to fly, please still include me in your proposed travel planning even if I eventually still say no, because then I am choosing not to go and not simply being left behind. Who knows, one day I might even say yes. Give your friends who were adopted choices, please don’t just leave them behind. 


If you want to reach out to me, please know my email is confidential, [email protected] I am here.  My dear Blogville friends, thank you for reading. I can control what I write, but not whether or not you read it. I can only hope my blogs offer something helpful to someone. 

Hello Blogville friends! Welcome back, it is so nice to see you. This morning I am drinking a honey-lemon tea as I write to you. As an adopted person I feel it is important to open up a dialogue about adoption topics (and sometimes other topics too) that impact on so many of us. 


Our adventure started when we were going to visit your other grandmother. On the drive there you fell quietly to sleep in your car seat listening to your little tunes on the vehicle playlist. Your mom realized that you had fallen fast asleep but she needed to get to her mom to attend an appointment with her. “Go ahead”, I told your mom, “leave the air on and I’ll wait with him, we will join you when he wakes up.” She left the vehicle running to keep us cool and gave me the key fob. So, on you slept in the way only little ones (and maybe your grandfather lol) can. 


Mom was only a few feet away when the music stopped, the screen displaying the words, “No Device Connected”, as I watched her enter your Nanny’s building. I looked over at you with trepidation. Will he wake because the music stopped? But on and on you slept, preciously oblivious to the lack of your tunes. Phew!


The little red car parked very close  next to us captured my attention. Interestingly the driver appeared to be rearranging things in his car with all four doors open in the tiny parking space. He was busy moving things from one side to the other, from on the seat to the floor, clearly making room in his car. Then, like something you would see on Funniest Home Videos he was pulling impossibly large objects out of one area in the car and rearranging them in other areas. At one point he dragged out what looked like a 5 foot metal hanging plant stand from who knows where in that little car, walked to the back, and started sliding the shepherd’s hook into the back of the car like a trained magician! I almost woke you up to see this but, realizing you would miss the point, I left you sleeping.


Finally, the driver seemed satisfied with the new state of the paraphernalia in his car. He closed all the doors and left, only to return a few minutes later escorting a tiny elderly woman who was using a large walker. He popped her into the passenger seat, then gently tucked her walker into the newly vacant space in the backseat of his car, got in the driver’s seat and off they went. 


At that very moment, my daughter-in-law’s car shut off. No worries, I had her key fob, I’d just restart it. I pressed the little ‘hold’ curved start arrow on the key fob. Nothing. To be fair, I have never remote started a car from the back passenger seat before. In fact, never actually started the engine from inside a vehicle before; well not since the days when you inserted the key into the steering console to start it. I tried unsuccessfully a couple more times.Even though my grandson was sound asleep, I kept my frustrated muttering clean. At 26 degrees Celsius outside, I realized that I better figure something out quickly!


Hmmm, maybe if I open the window and stick my arm out I can fool the vehicle into thinking I just got in range with the fob. Nothing. I look over at that sleeping little one and wonder if he’s asleep enough for me to exit the vehicle, sneak around to the driver’s door and get in to start it. So I slide the door open, quiet as a mouse, and start to slip out. Just when I thought I was home free his eyes flew open. “Crap!” I thought. 


“Mommy?” he says tentatively. I’m in trouble now. Did I mention that my grandson prefers the company of my husband over mine? In fact, he prefers the company of pretty much anyone else than me for some reason. He scrunches up his little face, about to let out a wail so I quickly hop out. “It’s ok buddy, I’m going to take you to mommy.” I didn’t even point out that she was responsible for the “no device connected” earlier that cost him his gentle tunes lol. I figured it was a moot point. 


Taking advantage of the fact the red car was gone and I’d have plenty of room to get kiddo out of his car seat and up to where his mother was, I walked around to his side of the vehicle to get him out. As I was reaching for his seat belt release button his tiny little hand flew to cover it as he wailed, “No! No! Mommy do it!” Therein lies the problem.


Ok, time to put on my big girl granny panties and get kiddo out of a vehicle that is quickly beginning to heat up. He’s a toddler, so forget bribing, begging, or crying, (me crying I mean). Instead, I begin to wrestle this Velcro-inspired octopus out of his seat with the deafening tones of, “Noooo I WANT MOMMY TO DO IT!” in my ear. Just then a little blue car starts to ease into the parking spot that little red car had vacated. I wriggled closer to my daughter-in-law’s vehicle, smiled at the driver and said, “sorry, toddler troubles”. She smiled back, got out of her car and shimmied away. Suddenly I missed the driver of the little red car and the way he could effortlessly remove big items from small spaces.


“Ok buddy, let’s go find mommy.” I say as I’m trying to release the harness and wrangle this tiny octopus out of his car seat. In the endearing ways of a toddler, he began pushing at my hands again saying, ‘NOOOO, MOMMY DO IT!’ Then there it was, like magic, ‘click’! Before I knew what happened he had slid out of the car seat harness and was ready to go. I took his little hand in mine saying “Let’s go find mommy buddy!” I’m sure in his mind he was thinking ‘finally, you get the picture, no one does anything better than my mommy’.


Thank you so much for visiting with me today. I so enjoy your company and I hope you enjoy my stories. As always, feel free to comment here or send me an e-mail at [email protected]. 
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