Family Tree

Looking through facebook for other adoption/reunion pages that have shared values with our story, I came across this image on a page called, "Adoption Reunion Stories."

What was disconcerting is that this was the only thing on the Facebook page. No comments, no stories, nothing else. It made it feel somewhat ominous or creepy. But, I thought visually representing the birthparents as the roots, the adoptive family as the branches and the adoptee as the trunk was clever, so I shared it with Kate.

Kate said she didn't know why, but that she found it polarizing. It caused me to pause and analyze the image more.

Looking at the picture again, I could see instantly what could be seen as negative by the birthmother. In this image, the birth family is kept underground, hidden, secret. I realized, this is a visual representation of closed adoption.

Although I was in a closed-adoption (where I didn't know my birthfamily growing up), because I've known Kate since I was 18, there are ways our reunion feels like an open adoption just because I've know her for so long.

So it got me thinking, if this is the image of the family tree in closed adoption, what would a family tree in open adoption look like? This is what I came up with...

 

A mangrove tree has an exposed root-system. Is messy and complicated, but it is amazing and the life around it thrives because of it. One quote I liked about mangroves in Wikipedia stated that they slow down the tidal water enough so sediment comes in. "In this way, mangroves build their own environment." 

That's what I think of adoptees in reunion or open adoptions - you have to build your own environment, one that is unique and nourishing for you. Also, a young tree is amazingly adaptable. "If it does not root, it can alter its density and drift again in search of more favorable conditions." Although the adoptee may not be able to choose their family or where they come from, they can drift until they find a better situation. 

So, for me, I'm more of a Mangrove tree. Everything's exposed, but life can thrive that way.

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

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Thoughts? Reflections? Opinions?

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Mother's Day 2012 and Our Blogs' First Anniversary

Grey kitty is actually my husband, Dane! He did the voice when he was five.



It's been one year since we started blogging. I feel like we're just getting into the swing of things. I do find it interesting, all the strange ways we navigate through this complicated relationship, the ways things are different than with my family and the things that are the same.

Mother's Day is the perfect example of the complications that come up. I am not good at holidays, I'm not planful, I do not get things out in the mail ahead of time. I think about it, I agonize over it, but I can't do it. Oh, I have great ideas about the kids making cards and gifts and then it all coming together. But it doesn't quite happen.

This year, I held out, hoping I would get something together in time. By this afternoon, I came to terms with the fact that it wasn't going to happen and I called and ordered flowers for my mom. Sure, they're the typical and the generic, but they get the job done and I think that's what my mom wants (sure, hand-made cards from the kids would be a nice compliment to the flowers too, but the flowers would have to be a part of it).

Once I ordered the flowers for my mom, I figured I should get flowers for Kate as well. Maybe not as fancy a bouquet, maybe a less expensive one. Then I realized I didn't have her updated address. Then once I got all the information I needed...I just couldn't do it. Even though my mom wouldn't know if I sent something to Kate, it still feels a little like a betrayal.

I know Mother's Day is a fabricated holiday that's more about selling cards than meaningful ritual, but we can't get away from it any more than we can Valentine's Day chocolates. You just have to suck up that you have to do something to recognize the day.

For my mother's day last year, I went on slug safari. The one thing I want every Mother's Day is to go for a hike with all my boys - husband and the two little guys. Last year, we hiked at Tyron Creek Park. It was damp and cool, and we were hoping to see wildlife and we did in spades - in slugs. They were everywhere. Big and small, slimey all. It became a game to be the first to spot one.

This year, I told Reed, my youngest, just to make sure to not get me cut flowers. Flowers I can plant are great, I just don't want a bouquet. It took a little explaining, but he got it and now it's his job to make sure Dane and Quinn know too.

I suppose the easy thing to do would be to ask Kate what she would like for Mother's Day from me. Are flowers the right thing, or a card, or something like slugs? Then, if she tells me, and it doesn't feel right, then what? Then I'm just ignoring what she wants. So that probably wouldn't work.

Then I try to turn it around. I try to think how I would feel if my sons were to give something to someone other than me on mother's day. At first, it felt wrong, like it would bother me. But, if they were adopted, I think I would be so grateful to the birthmother that I would want to celebrate her myself on mother's day. How to recognize both?

I don't know. So I'll get my mother's day flower in just in time for my mom and will flake on Kate, not knowing which is better.

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

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Thoughts? Reflections? Opinions?

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Precious Things - Part 2

Email response to Kate's email

Eh, I tried to write about it last night and didn't get very far. What it made me think about was really more my stuff and not taking good care of things and feeling undeserving. The image that came to mind was going to mexico on the Tortoise and I found this beautiful, delicate shell and I explained to the local guy that I couldn't take it home, that I would certainly break it. Just before I left, it brought it to me as a gift, very carefully wrapped and contained. And I was moved, and grateful. Then brought it home and it just stayed like that - wrapped up and tucked away because it was too delicate. I thought that would be nice to write about - but what it doesn't really have anything to do with us/adoption/etc.

The cape is a quandry. I've looked for it as I've been in the attic going through other things and I haven't found it. I'm worried that it may have been gotten rid of during the remodel. I'm hoping that it was just displaced, but I'm worried. That said, I would be okay with you writing about it. I know it would be a huge loss if I did actually lose it.

I think a hard thing about the blog writing is that I usually don't know what I want to write about until I'm writing it. Even if we have a topic ahead of time, I'll often go off on a different tagent. I agree that having certain topics that we line up to pull from would be helpful, I just haven't been successful with it. Also, I think something inherent in our project, is that we're dealing with totally different things that both have the same starting point. So, we won't be dealing with the same things, exactly. So maybe it's just picking the starting point?

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

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Precious Things - Part1

In response to Kate's email

******

Hi Kate,

Hope you landed in NYC safe and sound. Quinn just got the bear's tooth! Thank steve.

I have been meaning to respond to your request about the pens. I totally understand. I didn't realize they were the expensive kind, or I wouldn't have exposed them to the kids. But, they've been out on the kitchen table and it's now become a beautiful part of our routine. Quinn, Reed and I will sit down together in the morning to draw. It helps me to draw with them, makes me less self-conscious about drawing and we work through things together. It's put in my in a quandary - I want to respect your wishes, and at the same time I've made a very specific house rule that we share all things, and that as long as something is treated with respect, it's not off-limits (the only thing I can think of that is off-limits, is the Guild (guitar that Kate and Steve had given me as a Christmas gift when I was working at their music store), and I've had to put that away until they're able to treat it with respect). But, it made me wonder, am I too loose with things? Obviously, things are a mess at the house, things get broken, but on the other side of the coin, the boys are not hesitant to try things, nothing is off-limits (they were cooking at the stove from as soon as they could stand and follow the rules), and they get exposed to everything.

At first I thought, I'll just take my pens and put them away in a pencil bag and put it in my pannier to have with me to sketch on the bus and when I'm out. Because, when I'm home, I'm doing things with the boys and couldn't say, "you can't use these pens, but I can - you can use your pens." If they treat them with respect, we share. But, they are little and mistakes will be made.

My parents were very anti-materialistic. They focused on spending their money on experiences (fancy dinners, travel) rather than "things" and so, in a way, they taught me not to respect things. Not to disrespect them, but just not to put great importance on them. And I guess I've been teaching my kids the same thing.

But, then it made me realize that maybe I am too dismissive. I would like to do a better job of teaching them to take good care of things that are important. An extra challenge, since I don't know how to teach them something I do not know.

I was thinking we could do our blog on something around that, "Precious things" and have it be sprung from the request about the pens. I think it's perfect for the blog because it makes me think about the values my parents raised me on vs. what would have my values been had I been raised with you. It wouldn't be negative. I think it's actually really really sweet that you wanted me to have the pens - just for me - and that they would be precious. But I'm not used to - or good at - having precious things.

I love you. Hope you're having a great time!

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

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Thoughts? Reflections? Opinions?

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Me vs. me

Last week while I was writing, I contacted college friends through facebook to ask some logistical questions - names of bars mostly.

What was interesting to me is that I'm finally at a point where I've been working on this for so long that saying, "I'm writing a book..." no longer felt like a big to-do. What I mean mostly, is that I didn't feel the need to justify it or explain it or get into it. I felt secure enough with the concept to just say, "hey, I'm doing this thing, can you answer some questions for me." I no longer have to justify it to myself. I no longer need to convince myself that "I'm a writer." It's not about that. I'm writing, for better or worse, I'm writing and that's just the way it is.

It also made me realize that in writing a memoir (now I guess, "true story" is the preferred term), I'm going to be saying lots of things about lots of people, and that not everyone might be thrilled with the idea of me writing about them. Friends, old boyfriends, and so on - I'll have to explain to them about what they're in and what they're not and hope they're okay with being part of my story. It's hard enough admitting all kinds of things about myself. But talking about other people - good, bad and indifferent, feels a little much.

The one person that I'm talking the most about, of course, is Kate. We've talked extensively and repeatedly about the danger (and thrill) of writing completely honestly.

We agreed on the outline many (many) years ago and started writing on those events. And we had an agreement - she doesn't see what I write, I don't see what she writes, until we're "done," (and it's been fun trying to figure out  We can ask a logistical question, like, "was so-and-so at that party?" But even then, we try to keep that to a minimum.

I think that this project is interesting on so many levels. One is just trying to delve into two people's memories of the same events. It will say so much.  is the obvious and the impetus of the book: what is reunion really like from the perspective of the birthmother and from the perspective of the adoptee? What is the impact on their lives? Why are the implications?

But, crap, is it a risk. Kate's an established song-writer, so, let's face it, the risk is far greater for her. But, still, there are moments when I wonder - is our stories going to work together? Will they gel so that when the reader gets their hands on it, will it form one story?

But so much of our relationship has been based on trust. Hoping that it all just works out. We never had much to go on. But just trusting that telling the story is enough - but not too much.

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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!

Birthday

Another birthday is coming up for me.

Last year was the big one, the one where I felt like I was crossing over from "adult" to "old," 40 (I know, you who are older are thinking 40 is young, but, admit it, when you turned 40 your felt old too).

What's interesting is that Kate is only eighteen years older than me where my parents are a full forty years older than me. They're two completely different generations. Kate could have been their child, if going by the standard age of parents at that time period.

Now, being new parents at 40 isn't very unusual. When you look at an older person walking down the street with a young child, it's often hard to guess if it's the parent or the grandparent (and just as you never ask a woman if she's pregnant, this is another question better off not asking). But, it must have been peculiar experience for my parents in their time to be having kids so "late in age." Their friends kids would have been off to college by then. My cousins were all significantly older, so much so that my brother and I were closer with second cousins, so then they were too much younger than us for us to really be close.

And, although Kate will introduce me as her daughter, it doesn't raise many eyebrows, though I'm sure some people wonder at what age she had me.

It gets more complicated when I'm the one introducing, since, as I've mentioned before, I introduce Kate as my "birthmother." This often gets us a blank stare, and an awkward smile, and questions later on.

Once, though, it got me a really great friend. We were at a bar when I had been laid off from a different job, many years ago, and I was there with my co-workers. I had invited Kate and when she came I introduced her to everyone as my "birthmother." When I got up to go to the bathroom, one of my co-workers pulled me aside on the way back and asked, "did you just say she was your "birthmother!?!"

I could hear the excitement in her voice and did a little mental eye-roll. At this point, I was learning not to be so open about my story because it felt "sensational." It often raised more questions than I was comfortable answering to the average acquaintance. And to me it wasn't sensational, it was just life.

But it turned out she wasn't an average acquaintance. She too was adopted and had just had reunion. We became great friends after that, the initial fulcrums of our friendship being that we were going through reunion together.

However, the best response I got to introducing Kate was at my son's daycare when Kate was visiting last month. I had taken the day off from work so Kate and I could write together, and she came with me when I went to pick up Reed at the end of the day. My favorite teacher there, Katie, was standing outside with the kids. She's only 22 (I had Reed bring her in a 22-ounce beer when she turned 21 and she laughed so hard to see the little three year old with the big bottle of beer), but she's bad-ass as anything - country girl, goes hunting, knows about animals, grew up on a farm.

When I introduced Kate as my birthmother, she just asked simply, "Did you say birthmother?"

"Yeah," I said.

"That's so cool!" she replied, looked at Kate and said, "Right on."

My hope from that small interchange is that younger people aren't so uptight about what and how families should look like. There was no judgement in Katie's voice. Her reaction was genuine and non-sensational. Just, "cool." I felt similar reassurance when Dane asked our five-year-old son, Quinn, if his friend had a single mom and he replied, "dad-mom, mom-mom, dad-dad, single-mom, whatever." It really is no big deal for him.

And us being "older" as parents probably isn't a big deal to them, and really, Kate's age or my parents age isn't that weird to me - just interesting. One thing that's fun is that Dane is nine years older than me, so I get to tease him. Dane could have dated either Kate or me and have had the same age difference in the relationship- nine years in one direction or the other.

He loves when I point that out ; )

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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!

Expecting Expectations

With triple the sets of parents, there are triple expectations. Or is there? Or is it the expectation of expectations? I'm fighting against these imagined expectations and trying to follow what feels right to do, rather than do what I am "supposed" to do.

Since the switch in jobs after being laid off, we've been struggling financially. So when I explain to my dad about quitting the extra project I took on, he asks me if Dane was looking for other work (after all, the expectation is for the man to provide). I had to explain that Dane is happy with his job where they give him flexibility to be a good parent. Besides, he is better in the parental role. I love my kids, but I don't so much like the parental expectations that come with the job. There's lots of chit-chatting. PTA, parties, volunteering at school and going to soccer practice. He likes all of that, and I would rather not. I will gladly offer to clean the house on a Saturday afternoon if Dane will take the kids to the bowling birthday party, and we both feel like we're getting the better end of the deal.

Dane doesn't have the inclination or ambition to do more in his career. I don't care. As long as he works, and he's happy, it's good with me. His work-life doesn't effect our home-life much. But I practically can't help myself from trying to do more.

It's been a struggle for me to slow down at work and do less. I quit the extra job, but I still seem to take on more. In the time since I quit the extra job, we launched our new website for the department, got an online application system going for the college and I designed tees and buttons for a robotics event. The first two things have been in the work for awhile, and they weren't solo projects by any means, but all of them are way beyond my job description.

I know it was because of my Nike upbringing. That's where I learned to work. You don't say, "no," at Nike, you say, "how?" I literally would coach my staff not to say no to projects, but to explain to the requester what could be done and what couldn't. Today, I had my boss telling me to say no to a project that was unreasonable (that he was asking if I could do). He had to tell me to say no about three times before I actually would do it, and even then it was, "well, I COULD do it, but it would be better not to this time, so...no."

When I first started working this job in the university, I didn't think about how it was a government job. I stood out, asking why things were done a certain way and questioning why something couldn't be done. It's been almost two years now (holy crap), and I'm trying to instead see the advantage of the slow-go. Instead of being puzzled by not being able to rile people up to do more, work harder, strive farther, I'm trying to slow down and see the perspective from their pace. Instead of doing more because I can, or because I have an idea, I should ask why. Why should I do more? Is it something I want to do? Will it help me in what I want for my life? Or is it for someone else expectations?

As for Dane and me, it was the first time I fessed up to my parents. No, he's not going to look for another job, but I am, and I'm okay with that. It was one of the first times where I actually put it out to my parents in a way where I wasn't justifying it. It's okay if you're not okay with it, I'm okay with it. It's our natures, not what roles we were thrust into. There's a balance, even if we've somewhat switched expected roles (which, come on, really? In this day and age, I have to explain this to anyone? Really? But, still, it persists somehow. Stupid).

Meanwhile, I disappointed Kate on another front. I was supposed to pick up and deliver a gift for Dane's birthday. I didn't. Dane and I are not great about birthdays, celebrations, presents. We're pretty low-key (mind you, I had a big bash for my 30th in Vegas, but that was ten years ago and two-kids later, times have changed). I told Dane there was a gift at the store waiting for him and that he should go get it (because with planning for his party it wasn't my priority). But it wasn't his priority either. He was happy to pick it up whenever, he knew it wasn't going anywhere.

But then it did go somewhere - right to our house when I hadn't picked it up. Someone from the store delivered it and Kate sent a message asking me to confirm getting it since I hadn't picked it up as she hoped. It wasn't my priority, it wasn't Dane's priority, but it was her priority, and I didn't meet her expectations.

I don't want people to be disappointed in me, and I wish I didn't care, but I don't want to be a self-absorbed ass either. I'm trying to figure out the balance. I'm not doing what my boss wants. I am not doing what my parents want. But, I figure it's worth trying to figure out what I want.

After all, that was the point of this job. It was supposed to be my perch - a place to rest (from the exhaustion of the job hunt in a recession) and a vantage point where I could survey my surroundings, find what I wanted to pursue and then strike. Now, two years later, I'm at that place where I know what I want to go for, and I have to leave the perch, but it's going to take a little while to build up the courage to fly.

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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!