On the Way to an Adoption Reunion and After

Traveling Back in Time

One of the things that kept on oddly occurring to me as I drove to Massachusetts the other week, it was really more of a feeling actually…was that I was driving back to save myself.

I traveled alone by plane the first time. The agency mailed me a shuttle ticket. NY to Boston and I had a friend, Diane, drive me to the airport. My mother would’t take the time off from work, but also forbade me to tell any of my friends  so she thought I was taking a taxi. I got there by myself them just as I got there by myself now, though this time I paid for the travel myself too.

I thought a lot about my first trip there. Seeing Boston for the first time, being fascinated by Cambridge and Harvard, watching and being thrilled by the rowing on the Charles River. It was the only time in my life I was met at the airport by a driver holding a sign with my name on it. Something was glamorous about travelling to an unknown world to do this sacrificial act. What can I tell you..I was a Goth chick after all..first generation really.

I felt, in a surreal way, for that girl, who I was, and her travel. How she walked into situation and thought, with adoption, she had found the perfect way out. She was just trying to live, do what she thought she should, make decisions like a grown up, do crazy and dangerous things because she could.

Even having a relationship with him, Max’s father, was just so insane. And she knew it, yet based on what she looked up to, she was doing what she should..what she should want to do. For years Cosmopolitan was her guide, and in the glossy pages would be tales of antics with office relationships and tips on how to get his to be interested, the older, mature, better moneyed man. How exciting when it happened to her…unbelievable really!

What makes me the saddest now, is that no one saw though it all. Not one person asked a question of me. It was like the invisible time of my life. I was sinking in a black hole and not one person in my life tried to pull me out. Heck, I don’t think they even noticed I was gone. No one questioned me, no one cared. They blindly accepted my steadfast answers, but no one asked me why…or even what *I* wanted..

And before someone starts on on personal responsibility and how I made a choice, I am not BLAMING anyone, it just makes me sad. And it should.

I had friends  family, co-workers, classmates, more family..my mother,my grandfather, my uncle, Laura .oh so many friends…and they all went,

“Ok Claud..bye..go to Boston and have a baby and give it away”

Because that is the most normal thing to do and people do that all the time, right?
Wrong, they had no idea wtf to do, coz it had never happened to them before either. They froze like deer in the headlights, too. So no blame, just sadness..I guess more because many of them were the grown ups. I was really, still just a kid. Thinking I was oh so worldly, but totally clueless. I just expected more of them, those grownups.

I Needed to be Saved, yet No One Saved Me

So driving back, I felt like I could save myself.

I was now the grown up and I was going back. And it felt like, in some way, she was back there, still 19, waiting. Hoping for someone to save her, get her out of the jam, make it OK  make it better. And I could. I could give her back her baby.

I was going to go and find him. For me, for him, for her, for all of us. And the terrible separation would be no more.

And we all know I did, and how great it was..and it does feel like a great beginning.

I found my son.

Feelings Post Reunion

So now I am home. I went two more days or so with the mostly brown and blondish “normal” hair and bugged out. Rye and the kids have been requesting the return of the red. I had a jar of Manic Panic Vampire Red and just let that all sink on into my bleached out, damaged tresses.
The color is amazing, and with my darker roots, it does not look too flat or cartoony. Plus I figured out a new way to style it that even Rye likes. That’s pretty impossible.

Of course, the color is very close to that color I was when I conceived Max. That was Poppy Red, a bit more pink, but still very good.

I find myself feeling very.. nostalgic, but in a different way. Like I feel even more open. Like my hair is wild, the new tattoo is on my arm, and can be seen with short sleeves. I cannot hide that I am tattooed any longer. I feel almost more comfortable in my own skin, that I can shout out who I am.

And not just about adoption. I can talk about adoption all day really. If I can bring it into a conversation, then I will. In fact, I gather that sometimes, I can be a bore. Like I am open enough about adoption all the time..so like when I had customers leaving tonight, they asked if I did something else..and I tried to explain what I do here ( lol hard)..and they asked why, and I told them that I “lost my first born son to adoption”..Which lead to a whole conversation, or maybe presentation on my part, about what the issues are in a nutshell. But the thing is, I have been doing that for a long time now. So the openness extends more than just adoption talk.

Maybe I am just happy? But like the other day at work, the “new mix” of MP3’s was all great 80’s stuff and just great classic rock and roll. And it made me so thrilled. I bobbed around all night singing to myself.

Now this AM, Rye and I somehow ended up watching VH1. And let me tell you..it was great! All these excellent videos from back in the day, when MTV was still using a rocket ship as the symbol of coolness, just paraded across the screen. Somehow I ended up fiercely dancing around with the dog, annoying Rye with my bad singing, as he showered. I found it terribly amusing and thought myself hysterically funny and witty.

It’s not that I feel younger, though I am acting younger. I feel complete again.

I Lost Myself 19 Years Ago

Like there was a part of me that did really get lost with Max. A sense of joy, a hope, a belief that was unsure, a dream..that I forgot about. Some part of me, that I lost touch with, forgot how to feel some things, just quieted inside. Like I have definitely HAD happy times in the past 19 years, but there was always something else, some dark spot, where the sun would never shine, no matter how great life was, I would always know, even without thinking, that it was not quite right.

It feels right again.

Happiness no longer must work around that blackness to reach though me to the other side, now it just shines though..it is like I am made of glass. See me, I am full.

I can’t go back though time. I can’t really save myself. There was no pregnant girl looking like me, standing around, waiting, on the streets of Newton when we drove though. Not even a ghost.

But on coming home, yeah, something did come back with me.

I can remember what it was like, before the blackness came, and I can dance again, with the dog, be silly, and be more of me.

So maybe I couldn’t save me then, or even the girl from then, but maybe I can still save me?

It feels good. I can tell you that. It feels good to dance.

About the Author

Claudia Corrigan DArcy
Claudia Corrigan D’Arcy has been online and involved in the adoption community since early in 2001. Blogging since 2005, her website Musings of the Lame has become a much needed road map for many mothers who relinquished, adoptees who long to be heard, and adoptive parents who seek understanding. She is also an activist and avid supporter of Adoptee Rights and fights for nationwide birth certificate access for all adoptees with the Adoptee Rights Coalition. Besides here on Musings of the Lame, her writings on adoption issue have been published in The New York Times, BlogHer, Divine Caroline, Adoption Today Magazine, Adoption Constellation Magazine, Adopt-a-tude.com, Lost Mothers, Grown in my Heart, Adoption Voice Magazine, and many others. She has been interviewed by Dan Rather, Montel Williams and appeared on Huffington Post regarding adoption as well as presented at various adoption conferences, other radio and print interviews over the years. She resides in New York’s Hudson Valley with her husband, Rye, children, and various pets.

12 Comments on "On the Way to an Adoption Reunion and After"

  1. wow. gf. could i ever relate. as always so much in our parallel lives of ours. claud and suz must be living somewhere have a grand old time, eh?

    love the red. you know thats my color as well (not quite yours but i stay in reds and others…latest is black underneath and red on top…lol).

    funny, odd in a way, that like you, many around me knew something was really wrong. the people I babysat for, the director of the maternity home, but they all kept quiet. gave me this kind of sick grimmace that held back what they really wanted to say.

    its sadly, too much of an american way, dont get involved, mind your business, look the other way, even in the face of harsh injustice and intolerable cruelty.

    you had boston and i had chicago. i remember my trip back to the maternity home last year, all by myself…ugh. chokes me up now.

    yes, we can indeed save ourselves.

    you for one, have helped me to save me.

    much love.

  2. …. I LOVE YOUR WRITING and your ability to reach your readers to tell YOUR story…

    DebiP

  3. I got chills reading that. Yes, sweetie, it feels good to dance and I am so glad you can dance again.

  4. Hmmmm something strange is going on in mom world. I just dyed my hair black with red highlights. Now my red is Beyond Zone wild red but pretty close to the manic shades. Maybe it is our way to make sure we aren’t invisible anymore. Or maybe we all like red a whole bunch. It would be great to compare pictures of out bright red hair.

    Meg (who has no google acount)

  5. Ahhhh. Reading this feels good, I can only imagine how good it felt to write it.

    And even better still, how it must feel to just FEEL it. Thanks, Claud!!

  6. Claude,
    You write: “So maybe I couldn’t save me then, or even the girl from then, but maybe I can still save me? It feels good. I can tell you that. It feels good to dance.”

    That’s exactly how I feel when I say I’m “content & at peace”. The future is SO bright. There are so many truly fantastic days as opposed to down days.

    How ANYONE can try to ruin that kind of happiness is beyond me. It reflects back on no one but themselves. (speaking of some of your past beloved commenters)

    You deserve it, want it. Max deserves it, and wants it. Case closed.

    Keep dancing!!!

    ~diane

  7. Smiling for you over here… big smiles.

  8. you really need to write a book.

    …as you know that same time period of my life contained so much that others (family, friends) turned a blind eye to, i read this and think – WTF — we really need to not do this to OUR KIDS!

    ironically, max is now entering that very time frame in his life. yeah! — he has you now!

    plus, garin not far behind, was being an arse on myspace — we called him on it, and crap — he commented back to me about how he was was being an arse, etc. oh, it makes me happy.

    i think we just really need to be there for them. REALLY be there for them. and crap — you ARE!

    so so so amazing…

  9. Yeah, well I still take no credit for Garin. We told him that he has got to stop making those horrible cursing bullitans on MySpace..said how embarassing it is…he acts like a arse. And he opted to deleat ALL the adult friends of mine instead of not being a jerk. I bet you are not on his list anymore! He’d rather be an arse.

    Ohhh…yes, lets have a wild hair picturethon!!! The redhead posse???
    CAN YOU SEE ME NOW??? And..Suz..that’s my next addition..you know..the planned black underneath…yeah want to talk about artifical twinning?

  10. nope. i’m still there, glad he does not think i am an adult.

  11. Claud,
    I so realted to your post, I remember saying in a support meeting after finding my son that I felt kinder and gentler, that the edge in me rounded out.

    I decided last may to dye my hair for the first time ever and I dyed it Hot tamale red. Ha
    MSP

  12. Beautiful writing,great insights. May the joy and refound life go on and on and on……

Comments are closed.