The post
That post I promised myself.
On the balcony the other night, Thomas and I were chatting about adoption. I was describing how a friend recently (it escapes me now as to who it was), upon learning of my personal situation with adoption, remarked "that must have been so hard for your birth parents. After giving you up, they went on to get married and have more children. They must constantly wonder what might have been if they'd kept you."
Thomas and I both then started examining this observation in detail. Obviously it's not a new concept to me - I've known since I first made contact at 18 that Jessie and Bocka had me at the ages of 14 and 17 respectively, adopted me out, then married when she was 20 and went on to have three more children. They're still together now. I've always known there are strong feelings of regret and remorse for their choosing to adopt me out. But focusing on it the other night allowed me to draw in other observations I'd made about my relationship with my birth family and see just how the niggling little nasty bits fitted into the complete puzzle.
I started talking about how sad and angry it made me that Jessie was so consumed with jealousy when it came to my adoptive mother. She tries to hide it most of the time, but I know it's still there. One of the most hurtful things she has ever said to me was a snipe at Mum. On an early visit to Esperance to see my birth family, I described how, on my birthday each year, apparently Mum always spared a moment to think about Jess on the day, about how she must be feeling and just reflecting on how grateful she was for the gift of her daughter. The reaction I received both shocked and disturbed me. Jessie grunted and said something along the lines of "she never thought to send you back though, did she". I was lost for words. The worst of it was we were in the car with my sister, Sheree, who was 10 at the time. It was not a side of her mother I thought she should see.
Other manifestations of this underlying spite have come in more subtle forms. I took a photo album to Esperance on my first visit containing photos of me as a baby and child and teenager, a snapshot of my past 18 years. Mum had copies done of a heap of her pictures and put them in the album to give as a gift to Jessie. My birth mother could barely stand to look through them. She flicked through with a disinterested expression on her face, not stopping to ask any questions, just keen to get through it and start showing me pictures of my siblings instead. At the time, I put it down to her being overwhelmed with emotion, but I've never seen them since and I really don't think she looks at them. She has my year 11 ball photo in a frame alongside a picture of me graduating from uni. But in those, I look about as old as when she met me. The 8 x 10" studio baby photo of me is nowhere to be seen.
There's other little things along the way. Early phone calls from Jessie when I was living at home were apparently awkward and full of stony silences if my mother answered the call and I wasn't home. My Mum is a very shy and retiring woman. I know it's upset her beyond belief that she should be the target of Jessie's anger after all the years of raising me as her daughter, of teaching me from day dot that I was adopted and that I was loved by my birth family and that one day they really wanted to meet me. She did everything right.
My birth father isn't much better. It took something like five years and him being finally backed into a corner before he would even consent to meeting my adoptive parents, he was so strung out with his emotions. I have a different sensation of emotion from Bocka though - I really think he feels at a loss, out of place, inadequate because my adoptive parents are "successful". Love doesn't measure by money - my adoptive parents drilled that into me, by the way - but hey. It's hard to accept that when you're feeling so out of place, I guess. He's expressed many a time how happy he is that my parents are who they are and that they clearly love me so much. Jessie has not. Not once in nearly 12 years.
I can't fix what is essentially her problem, and it's a damn shame. It's not what I expected at all. Knowing I had a set of birth parents who were eager to meet me with open arms, I didn't think twice about how they'd react to my adoptive parents. They should be grateful! They should thank them for raising me so well and giving me all their love! How dare they have anything but complete adoration for these people? They're my parents. This is not a situation I enjoy being in. I shouldn't have to defend my parents against people who gave me to them for adoption.
But it all boils down to the demons in Jessie's heart and mind. It doesn't matter that after she gave me up for adoption, she went on to finish high school. It doesn't heal a hole in her heart to think that perhaps if they'd kept me, they wouldn't have gone the distance - it could have torn their relationship apart. She could have been just another single Mum drop out with no prospects for herself or her baby. The trauma they went through made them closer and stronger. I've told them time and time again how thankful I am that my parents were given the opportunity to have a daughter, that Jessie was able to go finish school and her own childhood. But that doesn't matter.
Thomas mused that when they fell pregnant with their next child (I have to catch myself because I want to say "eldest", strangely enough), perhaps they secretly hoped for another girl. "This could be what heals the wound and makes us feel complete again" - whether that was subconscious or conscious. And yes, they had a bouncing baby girl, Sheree. As she grew, they've told me how often they looked at her and wondered if her sister looked the same, had the same personality traits. It turns out we are completely opposite :) they needed to look at their next-born, their first son, Jared, to see what Joey was like.
Anyway, I digress.
The gap didn't narrow. If anything, I would imagine it made the pain and regret more fierce. To be married and have a baby girl - what would it have been like? By now her sister would have been eight years old. She should have had a sister.
At this stage in our balcony ramblings, Thomas turned to look me in the eye, and he said this:
"You are your birth parents' greatest mistake."
And he is absolutely right.
Now that we're a part of each other's lives again, they're constantly reminded of the fact that I'm the one that got away. They perceive that the biggest mistake of their lives was not keeping me. If they had their time over again, I think they'd make some very different choices. Every day of Jessie's life, I think she quietly resents Bocka for being the one whose shoulders the decision was ultimately put upon. As she lay in hospital after giving birth, never seen or held her baby, in tears and traumatised, my grandmother by her side, Grandma told Bocka she would give up her job as a checkout operator and raise me while Jessie went back to school if they wanted to keep me. Bocka said no. He was 17 years old. I will never hold that choice against him, ever. What a shocking decision for a 17-year-old kid to have to make. To me, it was the right choice, and I tell him that all the time. But that will be his burden to bear. I think he has made peace with his demons in any case.
I'm not sure about Jessie. These past few years, things seem to have gotten better between my mothers. I think the wedding brought them closer. I'd like to think so, anyway. But if Jessie shows her ugly side to me again, I will endeavour to be less judgemental and more sensitive after my conversation with Thomas.
Adoption's a funny thing. There are three sides to every story.
My mothers at my wedding two years ago. Mum on the left, Jessie on the right.
If you don't read all this, I'll understand - hell, it took me almost an hour and a half to finish this post. But if you do read it, please comment. Please give me your thoughts. I'm not closed to "outsiders from the triad" putting in their two cents' worth, honestly - and I'm impossible to offend when it comes to adoption issues. I mean that. I'm so open to other people's views. Sometimes the best angles for new ideas come from outside your own experience, as you just witnessed if you read this. Most of the thread of thought in this derived from my very-not-adopted husband.
On the balcony the other night, Thomas and I were chatting about adoption. I was describing how a friend recently (it escapes me now as to who it was), upon learning of my personal situation with adoption, remarked "that must have been so hard for your birth parents. After giving you up, they went on to get married and have more children. They must constantly wonder what might have been if they'd kept you."
Thomas and I both then started examining this observation in detail. Obviously it's not a new concept to me - I've known since I first made contact at 18 that Jessie and Bocka had me at the ages of 14 and 17 respectively, adopted me out, then married when she was 20 and went on to have three more children. They're still together now. I've always known there are strong feelings of regret and remorse for their choosing to adopt me out. But focusing on it the other night allowed me to draw in other observations I'd made about my relationship with my birth family and see just how the niggling little nasty bits fitted into the complete puzzle.
I started talking about how sad and angry it made me that Jessie was so consumed with jealousy when it came to my adoptive mother. She tries to hide it most of the time, but I know it's still there. One of the most hurtful things she has ever said to me was a snipe at Mum. On an early visit to Esperance to see my birth family, I described how, on my birthday each year, apparently Mum always spared a moment to think about Jess on the day, about how she must be feeling and just reflecting on how grateful she was for the gift of her daughter. The reaction I received both shocked and disturbed me. Jessie grunted and said something along the lines of "she never thought to send you back though, did she". I was lost for words. The worst of it was we were in the car with my sister, Sheree, who was 10 at the time. It was not a side of her mother I thought she should see.
Other manifestations of this underlying spite have come in more subtle forms. I took a photo album to Esperance on my first visit containing photos of me as a baby and child and teenager, a snapshot of my past 18 years. Mum had copies done of a heap of her pictures and put them in the album to give as a gift to Jessie. My birth mother could barely stand to look through them. She flicked through with a disinterested expression on her face, not stopping to ask any questions, just keen to get through it and start showing me pictures of my siblings instead. At the time, I put it down to her being overwhelmed with emotion, but I've never seen them since and I really don't think she looks at them. She has my year 11 ball photo in a frame alongside a picture of me graduating from uni. But in those, I look about as old as when she met me. The 8 x 10" studio baby photo of me is nowhere to be seen.
There's other little things along the way. Early phone calls from Jessie when I was living at home were apparently awkward and full of stony silences if my mother answered the call and I wasn't home. My Mum is a very shy and retiring woman. I know it's upset her beyond belief that she should be the target of Jessie's anger after all the years of raising me as her daughter, of teaching me from day dot that I was adopted and that I was loved by my birth family and that one day they really wanted to meet me. She did everything right.
My birth father isn't much better. It took something like five years and him being finally backed into a corner before he would even consent to meeting my adoptive parents, he was so strung out with his emotions. I have a different sensation of emotion from Bocka though - I really think he feels at a loss, out of place, inadequate because my adoptive parents are "successful". Love doesn't measure by money - my adoptive parents drilled that into me, by the way - but hey. It's hard to accept that when you're feeling so out of place, I guess. He's expressed many a time how happy he is that my parents are who they are and that they clearly love me so much. Jessie has not. Not once in nearly 12 years.
I can't fix what is essentially her problem, and it's a damn shame. It's not what I expected at all. Knowing I had a set of birth parents who were eager to meet me with open arms, I didn't think twice about how they'd react to my adoptive parents. They should be grateful! They should thank them for raising me so well and giving me all their love! How dare they have anything but complete adoration for these people? They're my parents. This is not a situation I enjoy being in. I shouldn't have to defend my parents against people who gave me to them for adoption.
But it all boils down to the demons in Jessie's heart and mind. It doesn't matter that after she gave me up for adoption, she went on to finish high school. It doesn't heal a hole in her heart to think that perhaps if they'd kept me, they wouldn't have gone the distance - it could have torn their relationship apart. She could have been just another single Mum drop out with no prospects for herself or her baby. The trauma they went through made them closer and stronger. I've told them time and time again how thankful I am that my parents were given the opportunity to have a daughter, that Jessie was able to go finish school and her own childhood. But that doesn't matter.
Thomas mused that when they fell pregnant with their next child (I have to catch myself because I want to say "eldest", strangely enough), perhaps they secretly hoped for another girl. "This could be what heals the wound and makes us feel complete again" - whether that was subconscious or conscious. And yes, they had a bouncing baby girl, Sheree. As she grew, they've told me how often they looked at her and wondered if her sister looked the same, had the same personality traits. It turns out we are completely opposite :) they needed to look at their next-born, their first son, Jared, to see what Joey was like.
Anyway, I digress.
The gap didn't narrow. If anything, I would imagine it made the pain and regret more fierce. To be married and have a baby girl - what would it have been like? By now her sister would have been eight years old. She should have had a sister.
At this stage in our balcony ramblings, Thomas turned to look me in the eye, and he said this:
"You are your birth parents' greatest mistake."
And he is absolutely right.
Now that we're a part of each other's lives again, they're constantly reminded of the fact that I'm the one that got away. They perceive that the biggest mistake of their lives was not keeping me. If they had their time over again, I think they'd make some very different choices. Every day of Jessie's life, I think she quietly resents Bocka for being the one whose shoulders the decision was ultimately put upon. As she lay in hospital after giving birth, never seen or held her baby, in tears and traumatised, my grandmother by her side, Grandma told Bocka she would give up her job as a checkout operator and raise me while Jessie went back to school if they wanted to keep me. Bocka said no. He was 17 years old. I will never hold that choice against him, ever. What a shocking decision for a 17-year-old kid to have to make. To me, it was the right choice, and I tell him that all the time. But that will be his burden to bear. I think he has made peace with his demons in any case.
I'm not sure about Jessie. These past few years, things seem to have gotten better between my mothers. I think the wedding brought them closer. I'd like to think so, anyway. But if Jessie shows her ugly side to me again, I will endeavour to be less judgemental and more sensitive after my conversation with Thomas.
Adoption's a funny thing. There are three sides to every story.
My mothers at my wedding two years ago. Mum on the left, Jessie on the right.
If you don't read all this, I'll understand - hell, it took me almost an hour and a half to finish this post. But if you do read it, please comment. Please give me your thoughts. I'm not closed to "outsiders from the triad" putting in their two cents' worth, honestly - and I'm impossible to offend when it comes to adoption issues. I mean that. I'm so open to other people's views. Sometimes the best angles for new ideas come from outside your own experience, as you just witnessed if you read this. Most of the thread of thought in this derived from my very-not-adopted husband.