Posts tagged ‘Loss’

On Grief

I think we should be allowed to grieve.

When I was “in the fog” so to speak, I never thought of it that way. I would have said “Grieve?? I’m so grateful I’m adopted, what is there to be sad about?” But it makes sense to grieve. Think about it. As an infant you pretty much lost the only people you ever knew. If you’re an international adoptee, you also lose the only place you ever knew, the only language you ever heard, and more than likely you lose people around you who look like you.

All in one day.

All in one day you lose your entire extended family, your identity, your culture, genealogy, familiarity. All in one day you lose so many things that other people take for granted. In any other situation, people would rightfully expect you to be devastated. They would not demand you forget about the past, move on from your old family to a new one. They would not tell you to be grateful or chastise you for missing your family. They would tell you to grieve. They would hold you as you cried. They’d bring casseroles and let you wallow for a while.

Why is it different just because I was a baby when I lost my whole life?

I really think we should be allowed to grieve.

August 11, 2010 at 6:00 pm Leave a comment

I’m a Coward

Yeah.

I’m a coward because I haven’t sent out for my file again. My bank account has seen its fuller days…planning a wedding and saving up for a car have made sure I have very little disposable income lying around. To be completely honest I’d have to admit that it’s actually a little more than the money thing that’s holding me back. I could have saved up the money I needed. I could have eaten out less or waited to put down a deposit on a wedding gown. The real reason I haven’t done it is because I’m a coward.

See, I’ve spent 23ish years building up a sort of sense that I DO matter and I AM important and I AM worthy of love. I’m afraid of what the truth might do to my somewhat fragile façade. I don’t know how to handle it. I’ve just begun to admit to being Asian and slowly embrace my heritage. I am really not sure just how to go about steeling myself for whatever the truth really is.

How do I know when I’m ready? How do I know what to do when the envelope comes and I find out (or don’t)?

I know I’ve let myself down as well as anyone else following my story. And I’m sorry.

August 10, 2010 at 7:36 pm Leave a comment

Back Again (ish)

I’m back again. Sorry to have been gone yet again. I seem to be hanging out more on my other blog and worrying about my wedding and saving up to buy a house. It’s nice sometimes to try and be a “civilian” and not think about things so much.

I never did mail any money to my adoption agency after I got the money back from my apartment complex the way I said I was going to here. I ended up using it on Christmas presents and pushing the file to the back of my mind.

Yes, I am ashamed about it. And I know I can’t talk about missing my first mom or being angry about things having to be this way if I’m not actively trying to change things for myself. Maybe that’s another reason I’ve been gone.

That and it can be totally emotionally draining to think about the loss and what it really means to me.

So as of today I have forty dollars sitting in a jar in my bedroom closet. I keep tossing loose change and any single dollar bills in there. I have to do it this time. I HAVE to. I owe it to myself. And even if I don’t deserve my natural family, my future kids deserve to know their medical history. My future husband deserves to know if my medical history says I might keel over from some genetic anamoly in three years.

So NMama, if somehow you have awesome English skill and are reading this now, I’m sorry. I still feel like I don’t deserve you and that you still won’t want me.  And some part of me really feels like YOU should find ME since it’s YOUR fault we’re apart.

love,

your darling daughter

February 17, 2010 at 10:20 am Leave a comment

Babies

I never thought I would want to have kids. Never. I always thought of myself as a feminist, an independent type of person, someone who needed adventure and mystery. I couldn’t imagine having a child to keep me back.

Right now I’m 22, my fiancé and I just moved into a larger apartment with a spare bedroom and a second bath. This is my largest place ever and I feel like we are really becoming a family, him and I. As I work on planning our wedding, I think a lot about our future. I think of buying a house, settling down, and making babies with him. And when I think of the babies, I get this strange sensation inside. A little bit of excitement, and a little bit of longing.

I was always fascinated by pregnant women. Their round, full bellies seemed magical to me. I could never help but stare at these women out in public as though I was sort of drawn to them. I remember being a child and going up to a “pregnant” mannequin and lifting up her shirt to feel her belly only to be punished by my mom for touching things. Even now as an adult I am still mesmerized by expectant moms. I look at their beautiful bellies and am completely in awe that there is a PERSON in there.

I do want to do that. I want to carry a baby in my belly, bond with him, sing to him, laugh with him, and bring him to life. I want to see that he knows me, that he is familiar with me. That he is the only person that might ever really know me because he came from me.

That is where my parenting worries begin. I sort of fear the fact that I so so want a child, that I want to carry one so much. I feel like part of me is being really selfish bringing a child into the world, as volatile and crazy as it is. And yes, there are a lot of children in foster care that really need people to care for them. But I just don’t know if I can live without knowing what it’s like to feel a primal bond between mother and child. Is it too much to ask for that bond to heal a little piece of my heart?

I know it is too much to ask of any child. Doesn’t that make me just as bad as my parents? Adopting a child to fill a void is just as bad as having a baby to fill up the piece where my mom should be right? Even as I write this, I’m in complete turmoil with myself over it. I can’t really rationalize how I feel, but I know that these feelings are raw and not going anywhere anytime soon.

Is it rational to fear that I might not be able to conceive? No. Not particularly. I’m young, in my prime baby making years, and to my very limited medical history knowledge I have no health concerns.

Most of this comes from the fear that I might never get to understand the bond between mother and child. I didn’t have a primal bond with my adoptive mom. The bond I have with her is based more on our shared history than anything else. I am terrified that I won’t be able to find my natural mom and that even when I do, there won’t be room for a meaningful relationship since the language and cultural barriers are so huge. And then there is the chance that she may not even be alive.

I feel as though getting some of what I missed might heal me a little. Just a little. On the other hand I’m scared that it’ll make it worse.

September 25, 2009 at 8:34 am 2 comments

Today’s Thoughts

My loss and anger are rearing their ugly heads because it is now less than until my so called birthday.

I’m trying to keep my head above water. Trying not to drown in my sorrow.

 When I was a little girl, I would cry while people sang “Happy Birthday” to me. I would shut my eyes and blow out my candles and cry a little bit more. On my eighteenth birthday, I bawled when my adoptive parents gave me a card telling me how much they loved me and how proud they were. I did not know then that the source of my tears was utter sadness. I did not recognize my mother’s absence because I was taught not to miss her. This year I miss her very much. I have noticed myself becoming more and more agitated the closer Tuesday gets.

As feelings of longing intensify inside my core, I snap at the person closest to me (John) and am downright unpleasant to be around. I worry that I have begun to drive him away. That my thoughts, my fears, and my pain are causing me to push him to leave me before he decides to do so on his own.

This is something I struggle with more this time of year. I am most unloveable on the anniversary of the day she left me. What will I do instead of tearing my relationships apart? I understand why I am doing what I am doing, that’s step one.

But now how do I prevent myself from sabatoging what is so important to me? How do I break the cycle and really move on?

July 9, 2009 at 3:21 pm 1 comment

I Have No Story

I was reading a story this afternoon about a Korean adoptee who found his mother after 37 years by going on a Korean talk show and sharing his story. Tears welled up in my eyes when I realized I don’t even have a story that I could tell on the show.

My history is shrouded in secrecy. How can I ever know who I am until I can figure out who I was?

May 21, 2009 at 11:16 am 1 comment

Mother’s Day

tequila-sunrise-rose

Yesterday was a tough day for myself and thousands of my fellow adoptees. Why? While I am glad to celebrate my adoptive mom and all of the graet things she has brought into my life, I can’t help but dwell on the wonderful things my natural mother might have given me and upon my loss of her.

 I started my mother’s day off by going to breakfast with my fiance’s family. I was fine until I got in the car and started thinking about her again. At that moment I went from being Katie, back to being adopted. Each time I get jolted back into my reality like this, the enormity of my loss hits me like a slap in the face. I feel like I have been plummeted into a bottomless pool of cold, cold water. I have been dumped into an ocean of grief and I have no idea how to swim.

 A tear or two rolled down my face. I would have rather kept that moment private, but my fiance was in the car with me, driving to the restaurant. “It’s okay” he said “Your Korean mom is out there somewhere and she loves you”. But it’s not okay. And I don’t believe she loves me. How could she love me, yet damn me to this odd purgatory where I am forbidden from missing her, where I am told to deny my instincts and my nature?

 The nicer my fiance tried to be, the angrier I grew. Instead of providing me the comfort he intended, his words cut deep into my skin and I bled fury. Once we had stopped at the restaurant, I jumped out of the car leaving him sitting there, confused with the engine still idling. Rather than accept his comforting words and his love, I decided to push him away. After all, if my mother taught me one thing, it is that I am wholly unworthy of love.

 Spending time with my adoptive mom was difficult. I feel so much shame when I’m near her because I fear how she will react when she finds out that I need a relationship with my natural mother. It’s a dirty little secret that I hide from her and the rest of my adoptive family. I would hate for them to feel the type of rejection that runs through my veins. I would hate for them to feel abandoned by me. As much as they have hurt me, I can’t stand to hurt them.

 I will remember this mother’s day forever. I will remember it as the first year that I was not just the daughter of my “real” mom, but also of a very real woman who gave me life.

 May 10, 2009. My first mother’s day as the lost daughter of two very real mothers.

May 11, 2009 at 12:54 pm 3 comments

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