Thoughts from the Conference

In 1997, eight years into our reunion, Kate and I had been through many dramatic ups and downs and deep challenges. There were times that we didn’t know what would happen, or if our relationship would survive. After years together working through it, we got to a solid footing with each other. Not perfect, but stable.

It was at that point, we decided to go together to the American Adoption Congress Conference in Vancouver WA, hoping to gain more insight into our experience.

Now, seventeen years later, we got to experience the American Adoption Congress Conference again. This time, even deeper and longer into our relationship. And, we were going to present, as well as listen.


The introduction to the conference took me right back into the swirls of amazement in being with people who have an instant understanding of what you are experiencing. It's the experience of being enveloped in honesty. Considering that what we are experiencing 
- questioning the good of adoption, discussing the wounds and issues it causes - are topics that aren't acceptable in our society, it felt like an act of amazing bravery.

It made me realize that in presenting, I would be speaking those unacceptable truths. Despite my time and experience in reunion, and no matter how much of a rebel I may feel that I am, once I was about to cross that line to talk in public about something that's passive-agressively forbidden by society, my heart started racing and my head began swimming. I couldn't eat and couldn't sit still.


That anxiety morphed as we began the talk itself. We went into the very large conference room with lines of chairs and I worried that no one would come to the presentation (Kate and I joked that we would have one person there, and we could sit on either side of them, reading our parts to her one by one). 


Once the room filled with people and we began our talk, I worried that people wouldn't related to it, or that we were droning on too long, or that this was all just ... wrong. 
Then we were done. And we had questions from the audience. And we had conversations. Suddenly, we were all there together, all going towards the same goals, holding similar values. I felt full, and right, and heard. 


We were able to speak the unspeakable. Nothing came crashing down, the world didn't stop. 


Of course, the world didn't change overnight to knowing the truth about adoption and reunion. But maybe our little talk will cause a ripple that will go out and on. I want people to talk about their experiences in adoption and reunion. Everyone's story is important. More than that, everyone's story is interesting. 

What was different at this conference was the variety and depth of the adoption and reunion experience. No longer was long-term reunion unusual - there were lots of people in our talk who were in reunion as long as we've been. And there was a talk on donor-conceived children who have such a similar circumstance to the adoptees with so much of the same issues. They were all there because they want the openness and honesty about the experience. 


I'm sure I'll still feel the pressure that we shouldn't speak out, but I'll just get used to doing it anyway.  :)

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to view my birthmother's blog on the same topic, go to mothertone

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Thoughts? Reflections? Opinions?

Please comment!

First Read - The Truth

Writing my truth about reunion has been exceptionally difficult. Surprising, even. When I go to write about something painful, I find that although I can remember how I felt, describing how I felt is a whole lot harder. I have the benefit of working with a writing critique group and their help has been priceless. Whenever I think I've really "gone there" emotionally in my writing, my critique group comes back with comments that it's not enough, I need to go deeper, and get all my gory, icky innards on the page in order for the reader to be able to feel what the narrator (i.e. "me") is going through. 

Part of my issue was that I knew Kate would be reading my writing. That was the point - I would tell my side, she would tell hers. We would write it separately without reading the other's part, but then eventually put it together. And, a few weeks ago, that's what we did. Because of the conference presentation, we had to read each other's side to coordinate the presentation.  

I had my trepidations about what Kate had to say about me. After all, I was 22 when I first came out to Portland to live with Kate. At that age, I was that ever-so-desirable combination of being both self-absorbed and clueless. Not the best part of myself that I want to project to the world. But, I know that is true, it was who I was, and I wouldn't be who I am now, without having been there then. In order to tell the story, Kate needed to write the truth of who I was then.

Finally reading it was surprising. I wasn't offended by the less-desirable descriptions of my behavior or my embarrassing actions. In fact, I found those were the things I wanted to hear MORE about as a reader. 

But I was more afraid for Kate to read what I had written. Thinking badly of someone else or feeling hurt by them is not something I like to talk about. But here I had to lay it all out there. I was afraid it would hurt her. When we met she was in a phase that was anything but motherly - staying out til the morning hours playing music, having the party come back to her apartment afterwards... you can get the picture. It was great in the terms of a college-grad coming out to stay in Portland with someone fun, but maybe not the best set-up for a reunion with your mother. 

So when I read it my sections for the presentation for Kate, she listened, and she didn't fall apart. In fact, she seemed rather serene about it. She was annoyed at some of the things she had done that I had described, but didn't seem bothered that I had put it out there. 

I started to understand what my writing group had been telling me. Describing the experience externally - telling the reader what happened, describing the scene, even getting into what you thought, is nothing if you can't get to how you felt. And not just surface feeling, you have to get to the deep dark ugly feeling that you don't want to admit, even to yourself...and then you have to tell it to the world. 

But, now that I know Kate can handle the bad things I say about her, I think the world will be able to handle the bad things I say about me. I just have to get there myself, first. I think our final round of revisions will be about getting down there, into the dark matter. And, that will be what makes the story good. 

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to view my birthmother's blog on the same topic, go to mothertone

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Thoughts? Reflections? Opinions?

Please comment!

Kathleen~Cathleen Present in San Francisco

In just nine days, on April 10, 2014, Kate and I will be presenting sections from Kathleen~Cathleen at the American Adoption Congress Conference in San Francisco. I am really excited to share our story, in person, with other people from all corners of the adoption world. I am so eager to know how people will react.

As we mentioned in our previous post,"The Quest," the first AAC conference we attended in 1997 was where the idea of our memoir was conceived. Now it's come full circle. 

The American Adoption Congress is a group committed to adoption reform and promote honesty, openness and respect for the lifelong process of adoption. I feel like our story is at home in this community. 

We are doing a workshop on "The Birthmother Experience vs. The Adoptee Experience in Long-Term Reunion." We will take turns reading from our chapters that reflect mutual turning points in our relationship in long-term reunion. 

We'll let you know how it goes!

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to view my birthmother's blog on the same topic, go to mothertone

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Thoughts? Reflections? Opinions?

Please comment!