Monday, February 23, 2009
I realized after I posted my "Limbo" post, that I had failed to fill you in on the background and the reason for my fears.
I was born in 1977, a different time. Those of you who were teens and older then know what I am talking about. (I have only heard about that...)
I was adopted sometme in 1979, before I turned 3. Until then, from what I was told by my adoptive parents, I was in 6 different foster homes, but between those I was with my birth mother.
I don't remember much about that time, except I remembered HER. I loved her and I imagine, I couldn't understand where she was and why she wasn't there anymore.
I was told that I ate out of a trashcan, even after we had dinner...
I never felt a part of my adoptive family; there were numerous factors at work there, most of which I don't wish to pursue at this time, but maybe someday in the future, I will revisit this topic and fill you in. I am sure a lot (if not all) adopted children feel that way.
I went on to run away after we moved to Maryland from West Virginia. That was a rough time for me... I was 14. I had lived in the same area (outside of Pittsburgh) my whole life, near my birth and adoptive families, and all of my friends.
At 16 I got married to get out of my parents' house. And to tell the truth, I wouldn't go back and change that. All of these things made me ME, who I am today. The lessons I learned have shaped who I am today.
My adoptive mother was never supportive of me finding my mother, even though she had my baby book, and I remember, at one time had my original birth certificate. I engraved my birth parents' names to my memory.
So when I was 22, and the mother of 3 children, after searching on the internet and various adoption boards to locate my mother, to no avail, I finally enlisted the help of 1800USSEARCH.COM. Within 3 days I had a listing of possible addresses, previous addresses, and relatives for my mother. I was scared but ecstatic. I proceeded to type up a letter saying who I was and that I was looking for my birth mother. I made a bunch of copies and mailed them out. Within 20 minutes of putting those letters into the mailbox, I decided to call the number that could be my mom's. It was about 10 am my time.
I knew she was in the Seattle area, from a phone call I had made to a relative listed in my baby book when I was 12 years old.
When I made the call, it was 7-something in the morning and I got my mother. We talked and cried for about 3 hours on the phone, and I also got to talk to my sister and brother.
I never made it to Washington to meet my mom. The cost was too much for two children and myself, and my mother had no spare money to come to Maryland either. She mentioned calling talk shows but I told her that I didn't want my business out there for all to see.
In January of 2007, my brother and sister discovered that my mom was hiding something from them. She had a flesh eating bacteria. My sister sent my brother to see my mom because Mom was acting funny, and when my brother walked in, he caught mom trying to hide her wound. He later told me her leg was 36 inches wide.
He told her that she had to go to the hospital and she told him that she didn't want to, that she wanted to die at home. He told me it took almost 2 hours to get her out of there and to the hospital.
For the next 3 months, the doctors did what they could for her, but in the end my mother developed sepsis which made her organs shut down.
That was April 14, 2007.
Just a few days prior to that, I was looking into booking a flight for May 11th, just for the weekend, and I had told my sister I was going to come out, "just in case".
I didn't make it.
Instead I had to make plans to go to our mother's memorial service. I found a friend to keep my kids (I couldn't afford to take all of us) and I planned to leave on April 20th and return April 30th. This would give us time to clea out Mom's apartment and for me to spend time with my family.
While I was there I met my Grandfather, my Great-aunt, Aunt & uncle, cousins, sister and her son, and my brother and his family.
I finally felt like I belonged somewhere.
So for the past almost two years, I have been wanting to go there, to be around them. It is finally time. It is scary, but I feel like I am missing so much. My sister has a 5 year old son and now has another son who just turned 1, and my brother has two daughters who are 2 and 5. My grandfather is 77 and I want to be there for him. I have 3 cousins my age from my Aunt Trisha, and two of them have kids, as well as a few other cousins.
It's scary, but I honestly feel like I belong there. And that feeling is new to me. I have never "belonged".
I just wish I had gotten to see my mom. To get some answers... but I will have those.... someday.
Mom's birthday is February 27th, 1957. She died at the age of 50. Way too young.
Rest in peace, Mommy.
Rest in peace.
They say I am the spitting image of her, and I have seen proof that I am. I feel like I am carrying on her legacy.
She was proud of her children, with good reason. What a smart woman she was! She passed that on to all of us, among other things.
I still rememeber my mommy, the one from my dreams. It was really her, and I never forgot it. I even remember the kitchen. I don't know whose kitchen it was, but I remember it like I was there yesterday.