I have always loved to dance. As an adult adoptee, a bio mom, and an adoptive mom, I dance between love and loss regularly. I dance with joy over small victories and small signs of acceptance. I dance to escape pain and to avoid obvious rejection from my family(ies). Let me continue to dance with the pain, the understanding, the surrender, His plan, and not faint.

Pushed Back, Unconnected

I don’t know how to explain it.  I cannot come out today.  I feel an indescribable low . . . a loss.  I feel alone, unconnected.  Not disconnected, but unconnected.  What has happened?
Well,  . . .

Potential culprits:

Adoption Legislation:  Scott and I gave testimony to an open records for adult adoptees bill a couple of weeks ago in a Senate Committee hearing.  It passed through the committee only to be defeated on the floor of the Senate.  This same bill passed the Senate last session, and this session it was defeated by a 10 vote margin.  Odd.  Disappointing.

Also, the House Bill has made it out of the House Committee, I’ve sent several emails to Representatives, and received emails back from some–with support mostly.  I listened to the broadcast of the Session yesterday, and heard them defer the bill until today . . . more waiting.

Also, the bill highlights the fact (this must be it because I am slow to type) that I am in the 1 percent of reunion attempts in which birthmom does not want contact with adult adoptee.  1 percent.  The bill was amended in recent days to include a contact preference form.  If a birthmom does not want contact with her adult adoptee, she can “say so” on the preference form and then the adult adoptee will not be able to get his/her original birth certificate document.  I am kinda sick as I write that.  Yes, 99 percent of adult adoptees in the state of South Dakota will have their rights restored to their own vital record, but 1 percent will still hear a “no” which will damage them emotionally/relationally AND deny them their piece of paper.  For me, the “no” to the relationship stops me in my tracks more than the piece of paper.  But I do feel held back, discriminated against, kept in the dark, and that someone has power over me–can see things of mine that I can’t see.

Birthfamily stuff:  + There are seven birthfamily members and pieces of their extended family in my life . . . IN my life.  IN my life.  I just got off the phone with one of them a little bit ago.  What a JOY!  Everytime I call him, he laughs this loud sweet boisterous laugh and welcomes me!  He tells me he loves me, that I’m part of the family, and more!  Others I receive mail from, emails, facebook messages, recipes, we skype, they travel to visit with me/to meet my family, and they invite me to their homes!!  How AMAZING are these gifts!

–Coping with the initial warm welcomes of several birthsiblings . . . and then being shut out.
–Coping with the refusal of my birthparents to acknowledge me as their baby (all grown up now, mind you).
–Coping with others telling me they just don’t understand how my birthmom could not want to know me . . . to know her grandchildren . . . what a lovely family we have and how much they are missing out on . . .
–Coping with others asking ME why my birthparents don’t want contact (go ask them!) . . . and trying to put myself in their shoes, trying to understand what wounds/pain/fears I bring up in them.
–Coping with not being allowed to love them–because I could if they would let me, and I do.

Being left:  This basketball season, in particular, I do not do well when my husband travels.  I am restless, I don’t sleep normally, keep a normal schedule . . . I’m listless and ungrounded it seems.

Being Naika’s mom when she’s listless and ungrounded:  I know things are bothering her . . . undescribable things for both of us.  But she’s 7.  I can’t just “talk” about them with her.  She can’t write out her feelings like I do.  I know there are therapeutic things I could do with her as her mom, but if I’m in the same place as her . . .

My parents:  There is a sense of being pushed back by my own parents too . . . they’ve had enough/heard enough/it scratches their scabs open too.  So, I don’t tell my parents that one of my birth great uncle’s is driving up to watch my husband’s team play and that my husband and father-in-law will meet him for the very first time!!  And so, I don’t tell my parents about the legislation that I’m waiting to hear results about . . . I talk about our kids, the dryer that’s not working well, hmmmm . . . .   Some of my topics are just too much for them.  And I love them.  I don’t want to hurt them.  But WHO can handle ALL of my big feelings?  And HOW can I handle ALL of Naika’s big feelings?

This is surely holding me “out” of the game . . . .

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