Start… Stop… Start… Stop… Type… Erase… Walk away.
Whenever I sit down to write about anything adoption related this is what happens. I’m so drained by life and in such turmoil about everything. I can’t focus long enough to get out a decent adoption related post. So much for this blog being about my experiences with adoption lol. If you look back you will find numerous posts devoted to a nameless man, I’ve come to see that he is my distraction, my coping method if you will. You see he is pretty broken and I’m all about the fixer uppers, helps me to avoid my own need for fixer upping. So today I will be a hard ass toward myself, no.more.comic.god. ENOUGH ALREADY! Stop postponing your life Andraya, start living it! Stop letting his rejection define how you see yourself, he doesn’t get the final say here. Ahem, rant over, on to the adoption nasties.
Rejection is a funny thing for me. If I have answers and know WHY I was rejected I can take it, deal with it and move on. If I’m left without any answers I get kinda nutty. I suppose it comes from having been “rejected” since birth and never having any solid answers growing up. “Because she loved you and wanted you to have a Mommy and a Daddy” is not an answer, it’s a cop out. It’s what APs tell us when they don’t know the truth. It’s a line to pacify us, to stop our questions from being asked. Nothing stops the questions inside us though, no one liner can stop that. Even now that I know the answers I still ask the same question, why me? Why was I so easy to let go of when only 18 months later you fought to keep my sister? Logically I know the reason but the baby inside of me can’t grasp it. What made her good enough to keep? Was it because she wasn’t George’s child? Was she a nicer baby to be pregnant with? Was I a horrid fetus who made true bonding impossible? I always have been hard to know and love. I try not to “why me?” because it is futile and draining and makes me feel ungrateful but some days I want to feel ungrateful. I miss my mommies. I long for a motherly relationship. One that is real and solid instead of the fleeting bits that I’ve had through my life. Since I was “chosen” I also want to choose, I want to reach out into the universe and pick myself a mom. If only it worked that way.