In adoption, in life, there will always be tears

Lorraine

Tears. I doubt that even the most hardened people do not get through a reunion without some tears, whether they are tears of relief and joy or tears of fear and sorrow. Reunions between mother and child touch our deepest feelings, our strongest emotions. I honestly do not remember if I cried when I read the letter informing me that the Searcher, whoever he or she was, had located my daughter already from the clues I left in Birthmark--all I had to do was ask and pay the fee. I asked, and now I had her name, her other parents' names and whereabouts. She was found. What I remember is the enormous relief of the exact moment I read that letter. I was sitting at my kitchen table. Imagine walking on a tight wire for 15 years, holding yourself up and in balance, praying you don't wobble this way or that and fall off, and then learning that suddenly, in the nanosecond it takes for an idea to be realized in the brain, you are able to step off. That is what I felt. 

So tears at that moment I do not recall--certainly I had a hot flush of watery eyes, I weep at the drop of a Hallmark commercial. But I surely know that I have spent enough tears over my daughter's birth, relinquishment and reunion and finally, death, that I could probably wash my hair in them. 

MY DAUGHTER WONDERED WHO DIED
I'm thinking about tears today because someone left a comment at an earlier blog about Colin Kaepernick and how his mother--his adoptive mother--cried when she saw the interview with his other mother, his first/birth mother Heidi Russo on television, and then called Colin and told him. Crying. We don't know whether that is what tipped the scales against Kaepernick meeting Heidi Russo, but all that has come out since is that he didn't want to hurt his mother--his adoptive mother, that is, the only one he knew from conscious memory, and that meeting Russo would "hurt" her. 

The person who left the comment last night says: 

"I think the fact that Colin's adoptive mother told him to watch the interview on ESPN and then call her back..which he did..then adoptive Mom started crying..making him feel bad ..like it had hurt her so bad..that he didn't want to see his birth Mom for fear of hurting adoptive Mom even more..and she played the big girl part ..like I will go with you..or set it up for you..but all the while knowing she wanted to be a part of it..not letting him go on his own..and feel free to feel his Own feelings in stead of how to worry about how Adoptive Mom was going to feel about it..."

The tears part reminded me of what my daughter said when she was told, at 15, that I was on the phone. She said her mother and father came to her room, where she was doing her homework, and that her mother was crying so hard she thought someone had died. Now understand that because of our daughter's epilepsy, Jane's adoptive parents had been trying to get in touch with me. As soon as I made clear that I was my daughter Jane's natural/birth mother, I started crying. Jane's adoptive mother began asking my name, address and phone number. It was 1979, and I was afraid that she was going to call the police. I asked her why she was nailing down exactly who I was. Her answer?

She was afraid that I would hang up and they would not be able to find me! Then she started crying, and we cried together. She wasn't angry that I had called, I was crying tears of relief, so was she, and we were both responding to the emotional enormity of the moment. (Incidentally, I did not use the term: birth mother. There is an easy way around that.*) 

Adoption is surrounded by tears: tears of the mother who gives birth; often tears of the couple who find that they are infertile and unable to have children; tears of sorrow, tears of joy. Certainly adoptees--especially those who have searched, found and been rejected--shed tears too; certainly adoptees who can never find also shed tears of frustration and sorrow. Adoption is a tear-inducing machine. 

ADOPTION IS FULL OF TEARS
I cannot write from the point of view of the adopted: I have always been secure in the knowledge of who I am and where I came from. But today I am sending out a beacon from my perspective of a first mother urging the adopted not to mistake their adoptive parents' tears as a reason they should not meet their biological parents, if they are able to. Many of us are like that woman I described above, holding ourselves together while we walk a tight rope, trying so hard not to fall off, to stay sane, but harboring this deep pain and guilt and longing, hoping, praying, waiting for reunion with our children lost to other families. Whether or not an adoptee shares her search, finding, or reunion with one's adoptive family is another matter, and solely up to the adoptee.

For some adoptive parents, it is true, they hope their "love will be enough" and their children will not be curious about their true identities. But in the spirit that the great majority of adoptive parents today, even those who adopted in the era of closed adoptions, can and will understand and accept their children's need to know, I urge adoptees to look past the tears that are understandably natural and meet your first parents, if they can be found, if they are willing. God, I hate to write that last clause, but I know a great many biological are still mired in the shame and secrecy of another time, and reject meeting their children. If any are reading here--and I know that is unlikely--but I cannot help take this opportunity and urge you to meet your child; do this one thing for them. They deserve no less. Ownership of each other's identity should not, must not, be a state secret. Mother and child were together at birth; only the age of the child prevented him from "knowing" a mother's name--other than the one who nourished me in the womb. Meet your child despite the tears that are certain to come.

Tears. Adoption is full of tears. But first mothers, and adoptees, do not let tears hold you back. Your greatest joy may come through tears. They spring up from our deepest feelings, our darkest fears, yet they prove we are alive. In life, there will always be tears.--lorraine
___________________________

* This is the language I used when I first spoke to my daughter's other mother: I gave birth to a daughter on April 5, 1966, and I believe that girl is Jane. 

FROM FMF
NFL quarterback Colin Kaepernick's mother speaks of her love for him--and he can't take it.
A Call Kaepernick should make--to his birth mother

READING
 

Family Secrets - The Path from Shame to Healing by John Bradshaw.
Not an adoption book per se, but the subtitle tells me there is something there for our community: The path to self-acceptance and reunion. From Amazon: In his bestselling books and compelling PBS specials, John Bradshaw has transformed our understanding of how we are shaped by our families. Now join him on this fascinating journey of discovery, which starts with your life today and takes you back through the conflicts, the strengths, and the weaknesses of your parents’ generation—and even your grandparents’. Using a powerful technique for exploring your “family tree,” you’ll trace the visible and invisible patterns that have influenced you. You’ll learn about family secrets that are healthy and necessary, and also about the secrets that can limit your wholeness and freedom—even if you don’t know they exist. 

This work is sometimes painful, but it is always enlightening—filled with the kind of “aha” moments and realizations that make everything fall into place. With John Bradshaw’s guidance, you will come to a new appreciation and acceptance of yourself. You will also be able to build more open, honest, and loving relationships with the people who matter most.

THANK YOU FOR ORDERING ANYTHING THROUGH THE PORTAL HERE--AMAZON AND THE ADS FROM BLOGHER ON THE LEFT.