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Archive for the ‘Birth Mother’ Category


I’ve been reading both “The Primal Wound” and “The Girls Who Went Away”.  I’ve also been talking to adoptees and birth mothers from around the world since starting this blog.  It’s amazing how one thing leads to another, to another, isn’t it?

One of the topics we were discussing on a Facebook group I belong to was memory – Is it possible to remember being born?  Is it possible to remember the first months of your life?  You would think not at first, but could it be possible?  Here is a link that was posted to an article discussing this:  http://www.guardian.co.uk/notesandqueries/query/0,,-2899,00.html

I was visiting my parents today and asked them for more details about myself as a baby.  Something my mom told me stopped me in my tracks.  When I was very small – maybe 5 – we had a conversation where I told  her “my mother has black hair” (and my birth mother did).   Isn’t that odd?   I feel as if there’s “something” buried in my memory.  I don’t know what that something is, but the feeling is getting stronger.

“The Primal Wound” discusses the repercussions of a child being taken from their mother.  It got me thinking.  Birth mothers went through horrors of which most of us can’t fathom – and they carry it with them for the rest of their lives.  Adoptees suffered trauma by being taken from their mothers, but they, of course don’t remember their birth and relinquishment.  But it’s got to be buried in there somewhere – doesn’t it?

Our adoptee group discussed hypnotism – would it be possible to access these memories?   What would happen if we did?

I have lots of other questions.  What was it like being a baby living at St. Joseph’s?  Who took care of us?  I’ve contacted St. Joseph’s to find out more.  I will be blogging about these questions and more in days to come.

 

 

 

P.S.

It annoys the crap out of me that everywhere you type in the word “adoptee” it’s unrecognized as a word.  Type adoptee and it’s underlined in red.

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I will be turning fifty on September 15th.  Age hasn’t bothered me much, – okay – fifty is a bit hard to swallow!  I remember 25 being difficult too for some reason – 30 no problem and 40 was okay as well.

This year, I was secretly (well maybe not so secretly lol) hoping that somehow we could do something which would be “surprising” – something fun and different.  I realized that probably wouldn’t happen unless I just did it on my own, but that would defeat the “surprise” factor.  I just felt I wanted a “surprise”.  I can’t explain why.

I have found through the years though and looking back, that there is a pattern with me when it comes to my birthdays.  Usually around the very end of August or the beginning of September, I start feeling “off” – sort of down, and blah.  It increases as my birth date approaches.  I’ve always thought it must be because this time of year marks the end of Summer, and before you know it,  it’s Winter which I don’t particularly care for.  But since blogging about my adoption, and thinking more about things, I’m considering there may be another reason.

Could it be because I’m adopted?

I recently started reading “The Primal Wound” – which is a book about “understanding the adopted child”.  It seems to be a very polarizing book within the adoption community – many adoptees do not think it has ANYTHING to do with them – and, many think it has EVERYTHING to do with them.  I think I fall somewhere in between.  In a nutshell, for those of you who don’t know about the book – the theory is –  that being separated from your mother at birth is so traumatic, that you are “primally wounded” – whether you know it or not.  It is an interesting theory.

As a mother, I cannot imagine the horror of losing your child.  As an adoptee though, how would I remember how I felt when I was an infant?  I do believe that there would have to be some sort of damage done to a child who was separated from their mother and put into an institution for a few months before being adopted.  I just never really thought about it before.  But – what if?  What if being adopted has shaped my life in ways I have never realized?  It is certainly something to consider and look at.

There is a sub-chapter which covers birthdays and birthday parties.  The book claims that “there seems to be a memory built into the psyche and cells, an anniversary reaction (often also felt by the birth mother), which sends many adoptees into despair around their birthdays.”  Wow.  Okay – well this is something new to consider isn’t it.

So, surprise or no surprise – I have a wonderful family for which I am grateful for.  This year, the “feeling” seemed to be building up, but thankfully it has abated somewhat, and possibly, I am coming closer to understanding why I feel the way I do, and in understanding, there may be peace.

And, that – is a gift.

Hey – maybe I surprised myself… 🙂

 

 

 

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I haven’t talked to Jeanne in 13 years.  Life went on.  Nicole is 16 now, and I have a wonderful husband and life.  Yet – I’ve felt something missing, and I’ve never attributed it to being adopted.  Being adopted was just something I was – like being female, or being funny. 

Writing this blog has seemed to open things up for me that I’ve never considered.  It’s made me think more about the circumstances surrounding my being and it’s making me realize that all might not be as it seems.  Maybe there’s something to the “primal” theory – that a person is irrevocably changed when removed from their mother.  That a mother is irrevocably changed when forced to give up their child. 

Being a mother myself, I cannot begin to imagine how my life would have been ripped apart if my daughter was taken from me at birth.  How could a person ever recover from that? 

Women – especially women “back then” – didn’t even get to talk to anyone about their pregnancy – they were shamed and sent into hiding.  Who could they talk to about their feelings?  My birth mother, like many – was “sent away” – as a young girl – to experience pregnancy on her own, and forced to “behave” by not even crying.  They went through one of life’s most changing experiences – alone, and then were expected to just go home and get on with living. 

There is a book called “The Girls Who Went Away – The Hidden History of Women Who Surrendered Children in the Decades Before Roe vs Wade”.  I intend to read it. 

I believe now that something that happened to you at birth, of which of course you have no memory of, can have effects of which you won’t understand – unless you try to understand – if that makes sense.

I have been having conversations with my sister – Jeanne’s daughter, which has made me realize that Jeanne never recovered from her experience as a young woman.  I don’t think Jeanne realizes it herself.  I will talk about these conversations with my sister in another post.

Maybe, in trying to understand Jeanne – I am trying to understand myself.

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