Saturday, July 29, 2006

HAPPY SCREW YOU DAY

Interesting title for a post but today and tomorrow that is what I feel. Tomorrow is my 41st birthday. My birthday is something that is sort of an oddity for me or at least in the past it was. Last year my mom sent me a dozen white roses. It brought me to tears. Yes I want my family to celebrate it but this year I hate it. Just plain hate it. I spent yesterday being weepy. I will probably be weepy today and tomorrow.

Right now I want to punch a wall. Scream at the top of my lungs. Throw all kinds of crap. Scream some more. I want to destroy something but I can't. I have to watch what I say and do around my children. I can't throw a major hissy fit like I want. I have to be an adult.

I don't know how many times I have read those transcripts. The very first time I read it. I was hurt by the way she placed her sons over me. I got the impression that she felt women were not important or useful. As I read it again, I saw the fear. I asked myself, "how can I have such a coward for a mother?" Here I have fought in a war time situation. I have taken on the good old boy system here in Texas for years. I was a city carrier for the Postal Service. That job is tough on men yet I did the job. My parents never allowed me to hide or keep secrets. It just wasn't acceptable in my family. Whatever action I caused, I had to face the reaction for it. I too have faced abuse by a father. Only difference with my father is that alcohol made that happen. He realized his mistakes before he died. He made amends to all of us in his own way. His mission on earth was through. He and I were friends because he worked for Fed Ex and UPS and I worked for the Postal Service. He understood the problems that I faced with the cruelty of the Postal Service management. I faced some tough ones. I came out ahead. I thank those people because they made me stronger. They didn't defeat me. Yet she is a defeatist.

What really ticks me off even more as I began to search I talked to many many birthmothers. I made sure that I understood. I made sure that I would not back away from her. That I would stand strong and care for her if all the memories came rushing. I made sure that I could help her. Even though I had friends to back me, I never bothered to take care of me. I never bothered to acknowledge my feelings or emotions in this. How can I really take care of myself when all that I did was prepare for her? I can't even begin to imagine not acknowledging my daughters. Neither can any member of my family, my birthparent friends, or my adoptee friends. I have said before she is rejecting herself by rejecting me.

She worries about the rejection of her husband and her sons. She never worries about my rejection after all that she has said. She never seems to worry truly about my hurt, the chaos created by her rejection. All she says is that she is sorry. Yep she is sorry. She never thinks about the possibility about her sons rejecting her because she failed to tell them about me. That they have a brother in law and two nieces along with an older sister.

I can't do anything about all of this because I have done all my searching possible at this point. I can help others search. I can help others with the pain of adoption. In that I find solace. So here's to Happy Screw You Day.

10 comments:

Manuela said...

Oh, Amy... I'm so sorry. This is absolutely heart-wrenching.

(I'm also sorry that I haven't been around much of late... I've had to steer clear of adoption related blogs for a while... they really get to me, you know...I can barely function if I really let them get to mee too often. )

Joy said...

Oh darling,

I know the dreaded birthday

The dreaded happy abandonment day

No words, have a hard time believing that this woman got lucky enough to birth such a loving person.

AMYADOPTEE said...

I am having a hard time that I came from her loins. I can't be a coward dont have time for it ya know what I mean? I am just allowing myself to take a knee. I have not done it in a long time.

The Lioness said...

I came via Manuela, and I am so sorry. Your birthday SHOULD be special and it must be yet another thorn that it will forever be a bit tainted. I hope that in years to come something may change, for rituals are tremendously important and it IS a shame that your birthday isn't all abt you in the best possible way.

Wraith said...

HAPPPPPPPPYYYYYYYYYYYY BBBBBBIIIIIIIRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHDDDDDDDDDAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

I know what you mean, mine is in 11 days. I am not looking toward it at all.

Manuela said...

Amy... you... are amazing.

I am so unbelievably blown away by your kind and generous spirit... that you would offer to make me an afghan... especially after having read this post again... and what you're going through... I am not exagerating when I tell you that this is one of the nicest things anyone has ever offered to do. And to think it's being offered by a fellow adoptee... just... amplifies my appreciation.

I am so sorry that such a kind soul such as yourself... doesn't get to see that beauty reflected back at you in the eyes of your first mother. It breaks my heart.

Much affection my friend. Much affection. And... have a healing 41st.

smooches.

Manuela said...

Hey! I can't find your email!

you can reach me at

manuela.shoegoddess@gmail.com

elizabeth said...

Hi Amy. I just found your blog, and haven't read through the archives yet.

Just want to say that I can surely relate. My earliest memory is crying on my 4th birthday wondering where my mother was. I think that knowing the day I was born was nothing but an inconvenience and burden to my mother is what makes it so hard. My first day of life, and she couldn't run out of the hospital fast enough.

Attila The Mom said...

Yikes. I don't know what to say. :-(

Happy Birthday, Amy.

Anonymous said...

Oh ... I wish that a group of us first moms could show up at her door and talk some sense into her, let her know she has a responsibility ... let alone, the joy she is missing in not welcoming you. Happy (belated) birthday!!

Terri (Speakingformyself)