Annual Birthmother / Adopted Child Birthday Blues
Today is the last day of the “Max’s Birthday Week..let me live in the past..thank you”.
Unfortunately, it is now piggybacking on real PMS and, as always, Thanksgiving blues.
Coupled with Holiday Blues
Thanksgiving always makes me miss my own mother really, really bad. It is not uncommon for me to be cooking the brussel sprouts or stuffing from her handwritten recipe book and crying. It’s just so moving to recreate the same exact food, in the same way, in the same bowls as I have for thirty something years. The problem is that she is missing. So yeah, I goon out. But I am getting a few days ahead of myself.
In any case, Rye, bless his heart, does try to understand that these are my “bad” days, though I understand that it does get old. And not so much, that it gets old…that makes him sound cold and mean…but that, like anyone else who has not lived though this hell on life that is a
relinquishing parent, there is no way to really get it ..totally. And I cannot find fault with him for that. It was, however, completely personified today, when he said something along the lines of “
you got to get your mind on other things“.
You know, it was one of those days..like all of this past week…that had some huge significance 20 years ago today. I’ll spare you all the melodrama, but if you care to go back in time with me, today’s events were
detailed in an earlier post appropriately named “Gotcha!. And like I explain to most people, and Rye, when I describe my feelings this time of year, it really isn’t something I desire to do. I don’t try to think about it, but I just do. And it’s not really my fault, like I am making it happen. It just happens in some form or another, with however many layers of survival induced
denial covering it, to almost every mother I have spoken to over the years. Like I just do not think anyone is immune to this.
It’s just “the season of Max”. So, really, I am normal..so why fight it?
And, for the most part, I am doing OK. I mean, coupled with the ever growing frustration of being “broke arm”, not working, lost of income, foiled Thanksgiving plans, lack of new job prospects, back pain and unreachable itches, a messy house, etc.; I still have managed to be OK these past few days. Of course, I will not rule out my decision of going out Friday night, drinking way to much Jameson’s and Ginger, coming home at 3 am and spending all day Saturday sick as a dog as “not adoption related”. I can give into that..I mourn, so I lushed..lol. Or would that be seen as a cop out?
Really, though, I was not “drowning” in drink, I was having a lovely time with friends. Jenny Pine was in town. It was actually funny as I am usually the one, and usually in this case means like once say every six weeks or so, who does get mad at Rye for being the lousy stay out bitch.
He has always claimed “it was not his fault” because everyone made him drink and I, as expected, would say Bullshit to that. Like we all know how ridiculous that is. But I tell you, it’s true! OMG! his friends, our friends, they suck! They keep buying you drinks…and then you have to drink them! And then, even if you know you are going be sorry later, you’re so “having a good time” that you just keep drinking. So, yeah, he’s right..I get it..they make you drink! And while it sucked to be in bed, puking all day Saturday, we walked the streets, giggling home, swaying, on Friday night.
Good Things Happening, But Still Down for the Birthday Count
And so that was fun…RegDay was great…I look forward to the stories in the paper…I’m going back to school…I had a daughter of an adoptee call me this am for searching tips. We got cut off, and her number did not appear in my phone so I could call her back, but still..she found me once? I hope I helped. So, it’s not all dark and dreary like a Cure song..you know?
Like I even ended up doing something rather significant and that was cool. I had some new dollar store frames and so I printed out a few pictures that I had wanted to have out. Myself and the
four kids from the wedding
….the one of Max and Garin together….good stuff. And, at the same time, Scarlett and Tristan got their school pictures and they both look adorable. So Rye put them in a double frame and that just made the light bulb go off.
I now have all four pictures of my children on my fireplace mantel. It feels really, really good.
And I guess that might sound weird..like I should have crossed that milestone eons ago, but really, my progress has been so slow..and I take such baby steps. I fear doing it wrong just as much as the next momma swimming though the murky reunion seas. Sometimes I think I move so slow so I am not in the throws of anxiety too often, you know? Like if you reach out, sometimes, to your found child, and they don’t immediately do what you think they might, or what you might hope for, then, you begin to wonder and doubt. I hate that! So if I do nothing, then I expect nothing. God, that’s awful! But maybe true?
For instance, I called Max on is birthday. That’s a normal thing to do..and significant in adoption land…so I wasn’t worried, per say, about calling.. I wanted to call and so I did.. Of course..right now….I wonder if he hates his birthday like so many do..or not hate..that’s simplifying..but, you know, has that internal conflict over what they think is identified as a real feeling verses what the socially expected birthday feelings should be? And see, that’s the thing.. like I am still trying to think of reasons why he 1) didn’t answer the phone or 2) bother calling back? Because I do refuse to get upset over it. I have to apply the friend ruling…like if it was any of my call-you-on-the-phone-type friends….would I worry big time of they didn’t call me back? Nope! And that’s the thing…if I am not gonna get wiggy on a friend..should I get wiggy on a son? How about a son separated at birth? And I just hate that! I shouldn’t have to think about it!
Even a in a Good Reunion, Still Sadness
And there is no way but to not think about it.. you just get side swiped! I got sucked into looking at wedding pictures today. They really are just wonderful and I do have to get an album together, but until then, with my excellent kids-on-the-mantel scape, I thought a nice Rye/me/Romance would be a nice addition. besides, I have an excellent rhinestone frame….anyhoo……
There were the pictures of Max and Caitlyn with Scarlett and Tristan on the porch the next morning..and I just lost it. The day after..we were all dishelvled…raw…but so real and relaxed..he slept on my couch!. That day was soooo freaking wonderful…and I felt just sooo good….and I want more of that. Dammit, I want more. I just want more..everydays. And that’s the thing..it’s never just normal….everyday. Not even just calling someone on their birthday.
And once again..I know I am one blessed son of a bitch. Really..I know, it’s pretty much almost as good as it gets. But it’s never over….is it? I mean, can I ever just call my son without self doubt? Can I ever remember a day with out longing for it again? Can I ever put out a picture without weepies? Let’s revisit the concept of my “sadness and grief ” being replaced with “peace and contentment”. I’ll take some of that peace! What is this closure for which they speak of??? Can someone tell me how to get there? Closure in, alas, not a place on a map.
The Aperture of Adoption
During RegDay, Stewie said something remarkable that should be talked about….it’s not closure in Adoption. It does not decrease, become of less importance as the years increase, but rather like a camera lens that grows larger to take into focus more and more of the big picture..the aperture increases.
I want there to be an adjective version of aperture, but I don’t think there is one. It’s a noun, but fitting:
a device that controls amount of light admitted
a natural opening in something
a man-made opening; usually small
I think in this case, well in all Adoptions really, it’s a natural opening, but also man-made. It’s a great analogy in any case. The Aperture of Adoption..I think it is brillant..because it is so true. The more you open up, the more you let it in, the more often it gets you..leaves you raw.
And it hard really.
Because somewhere in the past…a past I am connected to whether I wished for it or not..
I was a girl..
who on this night..20 years ago..
stood in the doorway of her bedroom for the first time in months..
and slept, finially, in her own bed….after months…alone.
It was cold and it was utterly and completely over..
and she knew she could never go back again, never undo it…..
and I know how deep the cries cut to me that evening.
I can still feel the horror.
Maybe I remember the feeling of that night because it was the first real night of mourning…
That it was the first day of my new life, which really was like the old, but not..
not anymore.
I can still..so easily..become that girl again.
I could pull it up.. that feeling.
I could be thrashing on the floor within minutes should I unleash this.
It’s not a state of mind. It is nothing that I choose.
It is a dark beast..wild with pain..that harbors in my gut.
I am still so close to her..I am her. Be thankful I maintain control.
Coz it’s not a state of mind.
It’s a Wild Thing….
I’m just working an idea here..and i found this.
.Mr. Sendak says: “If Max screams at his mother and he’s monstrous and he has a huge temper tantrum, he does get back home again — he never left home, actually — and of course his mother loves him.”
got to store that someplace!
Oh Claud.
I am speechless because you are so wonderful and so wonderfully raw and honest and sad and poignant.
I don’t know what to say, but I’m always listening.
“It’s a Wild Thing….”
Chip Taylor. The Troggs 🙂
Great posts … these last two. The one about sharing together over tea would make a great magazine article.
And, being a photographer, the aperture analogy is very cool. If I may add to it … when a camera’s aperture opens up it allows more light in and can increase the up-front view … but it actually decreases the “depth of field” … which means that the background “noise” behind the primary subject starts to fall out of focus.
I like that analogy as well … the extraneous stuff (the mythology, the shoulds, the things we were told, etc.) falling away.
luvin you
so real and relaxed..he slept on my couch!. That day was soooo freaking wonderful…and I felt just sooo good….and I want more of that. OMG, what a poignant image. I’ve always wondered if my mother ever ached for me like I ached for her. Your post helps me to think that maybe she did, despite having three other children that she DIDN’T give up to adoption. I can’t help thinking that my own propensity toward being a goth was (and still is) intimately related to the grief of loss of the bond between mother and child. I felt your post right in the center of my being.
The birthday thing is weird, my daughter and I never actually speak on her actual birthday. We always email though.
Reunion is insane. You never know if something is too much or not enough. The best advice someone gave me was not to expect anything, I find that hard but helfpul.
Things keep changing too, the “rules” change, it’s just insane reunion. He looks like such a great guy Max, and he looks so happy to have found you and you him.
I love the photos.
YAY! Marie Jarrell!!!
I’m SO pleased to see your post. For so long I’ve missed you (and your beautiful prose), wondered about you and sent good thoughts drifting through the ether hoping they’ll find you.
I’ve no doubt at all that your mother yearned and ached for for you. I’m sure she felt your loss acutely.
BTW, how is your lovely daughter?
Well, I hope.