Mum's (NOT) the Word

 

I am back for a second entry today. I am not sure how many people know about this day and what it represents. 

The second Saturday (the Saturday right before Mother's Day, here in Canada and the USA), is the day dedicated to Birth Mothers. I don't think it is a well known fact, but I could be wrong. I apologize if I've had my head in the sand, and this is known everywhere.

This could be a beautiful thing for those mothers who legitimately gave up their children with all the love in their hearts, knowing they could not provide what their child needed; whatever the reasoning is. 

I am NOT judging anyone and their circumstances. I do NOT know their story, and even if I did, it isn't my story to tell; and who am I to say they were right or wrong in their decision. I hope for all involved, it was a decision that everyone could live with.

I, however, was not one of those fortunate people!!!

I am an adoptee. I have my mother and my father, things may not be perfect; my relationship with my mother is rocky (at best)... but let me tell you, she is a hell of a lot better than my incubator. You would think that after 50 trips around the Sun, I would be more at peace with this. 

I am not sure if I will ever be fully at peace with how everything went down....

As an adoptee, not the case for all adoptees; but for this one... I have abandonment issues right from what she did when I was 5 months old. It's crazy that I don't even remember things at that age OBVIOUSLY; but it doesn't change the fact that it's one of the very first situations that added to it. 

YES, I have had therapy and all that shit. I am usually okay with people leaving now, because most people come back... I struggle with those I am extremely close to, especially if we left things unsaid. I cannot have people leave, or me leave if we are angry at each other.

This is not the only reason I despise my incubator...

My parents (adopted), never hid the fact that I was adopted; all four of us kids were adopted, so it was never something that needed to stay a secret. Knowing that I was, left a huge puzzle piece missing in my life. I never felt complete. There was always this "I need to know" yearning within me. As soon as I was old enough I went searching. I found way more than I bargained for.

On my 19th birthday, I met her and 3 brothers I never knew existed. That was the first thing that threw me for a serious loop. I am not sure what I expected, but I guess in reality I shouldn't have been shocked; if that makes ANY sense. From our very first meeting, she irked my soul. That is the ONLY way I can explain it. I don't know what I expected... actually I DO. I naively thought meeting her would fill that missing piece inside of me; unfortunately, it only made it bigger.

For years, I begged and pleaded with this woman to tell me who my father was. So many times, and the response I got was of sheer cruelty. She held it over my head for years. She'd tell me, she knew his name, where he lived and would give me his first name. When I pressed her on it, she told me that even on her deathbed she wouldn't tell me who he was. It was at that point that I decided, I was not going to let anyone, especially this woman have that kind of control over me. 

My children became my heroes, doing the Ancestry DNA, they found my father within 18 hours I believe. Of course, my heart was shattered to learn that he passed away 2 years prior... so you can imagine how my disdain for my incubator became black soul hatred. She denied me everything. 

To top it off, she didn't just deny me my father... she denied me growing up with my baby sister and older brother. At the end of the day, she can stew in her own evilness because as it stands today.... I get to enjoy life with my baby sister by my side. For the first time in my life, I get to say, I HAVE A BABY SISTER!!!

To all birth mothers who celebrate today, I wish you a beautiful day, whatever your story is!!!

~ Phoenix