A shift in thought and power.

As many of you that know me have seen, over the last few weeks I've battled some unknown illness, tackled old family ghosts and struggled with the search as to why my body just didn't want to get well. Over this past weekend, after finally beginning to feel like 'myself' again I was listening to my audio book version of 'You Can Heal Your Life' which is also read by Louise Hay *giggles in delight* while I was working on the mosaic tile vanity top in our master bathroom. I'm working and working, and listening and listening and in one particular moment it's like all of the 'noise' around me stopped and I heard her....I actually HEARD her. She reminded me that whatever we think becomes our reality. The thoughts that we think and the words we speak BECOME our reality.

Don't get me wrong, it's not the first time I had 'heard' this. In fact, I had 'heard' this concept over and over and over again within the past 7 years or so....but for some reason it MEANT something to me that it had never meant before; a new understanding, if you will.

You see, I had just spent the last few weeks focusing on lack; the lack of good health, the lack of a 'good' and/or 'fair' childhood, the lack of money, the lack of health insurance, the lack of someone at home to take care of me while ill, the lack of...well, you see where I'm going...er, where I was. What happens when you focus on lack *you ask*? More 'lack' will show up......there won't be enough of anything because that's where your focus is. Making sense?

So, my shift began; I have an ABUNDANCE of patience (in that it took me 2 days to complete my mosaic tile top), I have an ABUNDANCE of time (in that I could clean, launder, cook and still have time to play and work on other projects over the weekend), I have an ABUNDANCE of love (in a wonderful husband whom dropped what he was doing to run to Home Depot to buy me more mastic when I ran out AND started dinner when I was running late and 2 adorable, loving children whom even took messages for me while I was working and listening to Louise) and the list goes ON!! It's my own way of coaching myself!

I have even begun setting up my own little 'affirmation bowl' so that every morning I can reach into the bowl and pull out an affirmation that will be my focus for that particular day! I had a lot of fun creating all of those little slips of paper!!

Shifting my thought pattern to only those thoughts of abundance has not only raised my spirit and mood but it has also raised my energy level! It seems so simple, yet is so easily forgotten as old habits reach back up and try to take root....it takes 21 days of repetition to form a new 'habit'...and this is one I'm determined to make. With my 'Am I being kind' bracelet on my arm, my "You Can Heal Your Life" audiobook on my ipod and a paperback copy in my purse I am ready to forge through the next 20 days with nothing but thoughts of abundance, love, prosperity and all that is good right here, right now.

Day one....COMPLETED...victory is mine!!!! <3 and gratitude to all of you!

There are BIG, black clouds blocking my rays of light right now....

WOW!! Two posts in one week!!! I know, right? Well, it's been a hellish month of July and I can't wait to see it come to an end. A proverbial roller coaster of emotion and I'm ready to get OFF now. And now I'm feeling SOOO angry, tired and more than a little defeated right now.

My trip to the ER last night at 11:00 pm was not only frightening, because I wasn't even sure I'd MAKE it there by myself, but also eye-opening. My husband, who won't even bother to read this, couldn't get up to take me because he has to work in the morning....really? REALLY??? I'm angry, disappointed and not quite sure how much longer this 'marriage' will going to last. Even the kids are angry about it; Ari stayed up until I got home at 1:50 am because she was worried about me and had been texting me but, as most of you know, you can't have your cell phones on inside the ER, so when I got home she cried from relief...glad that I was ok. Where was my husband?? Sound asleep.

So...I'm in the ER and, on this trip, the doctor decides to actually TREAT me for my symptoms; they give me a breathing treatment, steroids via an IV and an EKG, amongst the normal blood work, etc. So, after a 2 hour breathing treatment and the steroids, I'm feeling better; well, better than I did when I walked in and couldn't get enough air to even speak ....so the Dr. comes in and says 'Do you know that you're diabetic?'....Me: "WHAT?" Dr: "Your blood sugar is up over 300, and that's a real problem"... Me: "HOLY SHIT!".....so he continues to tell me that my current problem could stem from the Type 2 Diabetes in that it affects the immune system; and my mind starts to run through all that I've had to deal with since February and things begin to make sense health-wise. As I process this information, I become angry. I remember that, before I had my gallbladder removed 2 years ago, the dr. had me monitor my sugar for 2 weeks before the surgery because I was 'borderline' and had to be careful. After the surgery I lost close to 40 pounds; worked on changing my diet and exercising a bit more than I had been. All that work and STILL my sugar's out of control??? Anger again. I not only believe, I KNOW that my body KNOWS how to work properly; years of Biological research has shown that our bodies CAN repair themselves under the right mind set; our cells respond to every thing we think, speak and feel....and I'm speaking, with feeling and thinking that my pancreas KNOWS how to work properly and want to know why it's not. I turn to my guru, Louise Hay, and her 'book of symptoms/dis-eases' and this is what her research says about, first, Diabetes and, second, Respiratory issues:

Probable Cause New thought pattern to cure the dis-ease

Diabetes: Longing for what might have been. This moment is filled with joy. I now
A great need to control. Deep choose to experience the sweetness of
sorrow. No sweetness left. today.

Respiratory: Fear of taking in life fully. I am safe. I love my life.


The 'longing for what might have been' thing is SOOOO true. I have always wondered what my life may have been like had I been adopted by people that had actually WANTED me; although not so much within the last 10 years. I worked SO HARD to forgive, love and release those that had caused the trauma that was my youth. I am really proud of whom I have become; especially in the last decade.

For those of you that have known me since childhood, you can attest that I was always acting happy and joking around; what none of you knew back then was that I was hiding the pain and trauma of growing up in 'that' household and fighting the depression caused by the birth and loss of my son......well, in the last decade I've worked hard and have made so many changes in myself, my life and how I see things and now actually AM that happy, playful person that I used to pretend to be. Well, not inclusive of the present moment. *smiles through tears*

So, I'm angry right now...angry at myself, my body, the Universe.....I live a clean life; don't do drugs, don't smoke and have a glass of Chocovine or a Pink Squirrel no more than a couple of times a month. I don't fill my body with crap *except for my chocolate obsession* and yet, here I am, with high blood sugar??? My husband; whom abused his body for more than half of his life by his excessive usage of alcohol and illegal drugs, although overweight, is healthy. WTF??? Really?? I wish the Universe could answer 'why.' *yes, I'm in the midst of a small pity-party, but, as my favorite Linkin Park song says, I have to feel it and then let it go*

All of the emotional drama and trauma that I went through last week trying to decide what to do about a 'forgotten' piece of my father and mother's estate mixed up in not feeling well for weeks is really taking a toll on me. I'm in this marriage and feel more alone than I ever had when I was single. What's my message in all this? What do I need to learn/change? Ugh.

I thank God for my children; for they are the reason that I live and the real reason that I was born. If not for them I might just give up.....but I can't do that to them. I have to wait for the clouds to dissipate and for my light to once again shine. In the words of my best friend in the world right now 'everything's going to be ok'.....I just pray that it's sooner than later cause this girl is T I R E D.

Thanks for letting me vent. <3 (-<) and $ to all whom dream.

It's been a while, I know......

<----Carmella Road; that's the view of my childhood home as seen from Homecamp Road; house on the left behind all of the trees and to the right you can see the pole my dad had put up with a mailbox that said "Air Mail"....and he WAS the first that anyone had known to do this. It was his sense of humor. This picture made me cry.


Ok, so I know that it's been a LONG time since I've been back to blog but life's been really busy and, by the time I remember that I haven't been back, it's 2 am. *smiles*

So...I've been focusing on all that is good in my life and trying to leave the pain, disappointment and anger of my life as a child behind me and was doing wonderfully until last week.

I received a message last week to advise me that the home I grew up in, along with the property that surrounds it, is going to be sold by the County Tax Assessor for back taxes; which I expected to happen eventually, anyway, because my parents had chosen the LEAST responsible of their children to sign over ALL of their property to, just prior to my father's passing. And just for a little background here; they adopted three of us, but had 2 natural children; Terry and Sherry, and raised another child that they had legal custody of but never adopted. Terry was killed in a car accident in 1963; but left behind a pregnant girlfriend *which will be important later*...and Sherry then had 3 children that were unwanted, thus, adopted by her parents *my grandparents* - to whom I referred to as 'Mom' and 'Dad.' Are ya with me so far?? *giggling*

Sherry gave birth to a son in 1964....'Mom' and 'Dad' desperately wanted this child, of whom Sherry didn't want, so they struck a deal; a new car for the baby, and *voila!* they had their son back! *no, really, they even named him Terrance Christopher and my mom looked at him over his crib when they brought him home and said, in front of everyone "Look! God took him away from us and now he's given him back."

Ok, at this point, SOMEONE should have stopped them from adopting any more children.....

A few months later, Sherry's pregnant with me. At birth, she refused to even HOLD me..said to the nurse *again, in front of everyone present* "Oh my God, that kid's ugly! It looks like a bug! Get it away from me!" :o( Sad but true.

Fast forward another couple of years....they get a phone call from Terry's *the one that was killed in the car accident* former girlfriend, and baby mama, that her new husband doesn't like Terry's son and that if my parents didn't want him they'd put him up for adoption elsewhere....so they took him. Now, one would think, at this point, that IF Ronnie was Terry's son, and Terry was the proverbial apple of my mother's eye, that Ronnie would have been 'The Chosen' one, right? W R O N G. My brother, Ronnie, was treated so horribly by these people that it made my treatment look good. *My dad would later tell me that they blamed Ronnie for Terry's death.....because Terry died chasing Ronnie's mother, who had met another man, was on her way to end the pregnancy. She changed her mind, out of guilt, after Terry's death. So....Terry gave his life to protect my brother's...hence, the 'blame' thing. Makes NO sense to me..but I'm normal.* Anyway....they had birthday parties for Chris, never for us. What's worse? The fact that Ronnie and I were made to stay upstairs during Chris's birthday parties. Yeah, we had it like that.

Fast forward....and my other blog posts talk about this in more detail...but I had my son taken away from me at birth and was told that he was a 'bastard' and that I was a 'whore'....and then the day I return from the hospital WITHOUT my son, Chris and his girlfriend announced that they were pregnant, gonna have the baby and live at our house...my parents were THRILLED!! They were gonna have a grandchild!! *are you seeing the 'big picture' yet?*

Again, zoom forward....we get the call in 1999 that my dad has cancer and it's not looking good that he can survive it so they ask for all of us to make one more trip up at the same time so we're all together one last time *which was easy for Chris because he lived in a trailer right next to my parent's home; still being supported by them at 34 years old*.....my dad promises all of us that we'd each receive an acre of property and share ownership of the family home with a clause that if whomever was in control and living there *Chris* wasn't caring for the property then the rest of us could throw them off and properly care for it so we'd 'always have someplace to go' if our lives ever caused us to return....*awwwwww, you say...isn't that sweet* Sure, it's a great gesture; however, it was a lie. Within weeks of our all *except Sherry, she stayed to take care of my dad because my mother never DID...she only cared about Chris and we all knew it, especially our dad* returning back to our lives, I received a phone call from Sherry, whom was heartbroken. It seems that our mother had pressured our father into signing ALL of the property and ALL other possessions *boat, cars...bank accounts* to Chris. Her reasoning? Because he was the 'only one' that stayed. OF COURSE HE WAS! He never had to work, pay a bill, buy groceries, pay car insurance or car payments!!! Oh, and beside the fact that they had told the rest of us to 'get the hell outta here' as soon as we were 18. So my dad did what she wanted and Ronnie, Sherry and I were left nothing. Zilch. Zero. Oh, except for the money that our dad had invested for each of us when we were young so that we could retire early, right? W R O N G again. My father had cashed them ALL in and combined the money into one large account so that my mother wouldn't have to ever worry about money, 'even if she lives another 50 years'........ahhhhhhh, if only that had been true. *FYI, within 11 months of my father's death, Chris had gone through more than $220,000...taking fishing trips to Canada, hunting trips to Newfoundland and Wyoming, buying quad runners and vehicles....how? *you ask* Why, because my mother added HIS name to HER account. He spent at will, until eventually there was none left to care for her and Medicaid had to. *Karma??* So, I call my parent's attorney, Paul Cherry, and ask for a copy of my dad's will......he refuses to give me a copy. Says that I'd need my mother's permission, which she granted over the phone, yet he refused. No estate had been filed, he said, because everything had been given away before my dad died, or had automatically reverted to our mother. No probate necessary. Secrets kept.

Back to the original reason for my return to unhealthy feelings...lol....so the 7 acres that house the family home, barn, garages and, of course, Chris's lovely abode, are going to be sold at auction....it's sad and funny at the same time. Sad because my dad and Terry built that house, literally. On nights and weekends they would build...it took them four years to complete it. That house meant the WORLD to our father. Now, it stands in serious disrepair; ceilings falling in, basement full of water, rotted roof and shingles.....all because they chose their 'beloved' Chris to hand it to. I'm upset because it was not ever my father's intention that anyone other than family own that house; but it's funny because we ALL told him that it would happen. Will I help Chris save it? Absolutely NOT. I would never do ANYTHING that would enable him to live an easier life. He never made it easy for Ronnie and I....and, near the end of my father's life, would tell my father 'just die already, old man, no one wants you around anyway.' He is the EPITOME of evil. I would pee on him if he was on fire.

So, upset about the loss of the family's homestead due to an irresponsible, spoiled demon, we then find out that there's one acre of property that's adjacent to the homestead that was never deeded to Satan...er, Chris. My brother Ronnie and I were thrilled! Maybe we could salvage that one part of our dad and share in it's possession??? But, why didn't anyone know about this? Why weren't Ronnie and I notified that my mother had ONE possession??? Why? Because Satan...er, Chris was the administrator of our mother's will and never filed for probate in Clearfield County!!! So, again, I call Paul Cherry...who's now a judge....he finds my mother's will but not my father's *shocked? I wasn't...secrets* and says that, although the will was updated in 2003, any property that my mother owned at her death was to be shared by me, Satan, Ronnie and Sherry....which is really odd because Sherry died in 2001, only 5 months after our dad died. So I use this information to contact the county....can we fight the tax sale and save this piece of property???? Well, 2 attorneys and multiple county departments later, yes, we can....but it'll cost almost as much as the property's worth. Cost not being the primary issue here; it seems that, even though Satan lied to Ronnie and I, never filed the estate nor paid any inheritance tax after our mother's death in 2007, there are no penalties in PA. None. He can't be arrested, fined...nothing. How can he violate a state law and not be a criminal? AND if I were successful in saving the property from tax sale then HE would be entitled to his share of the ownership!

So....after days and days and days stressing over what the 'right' thing to do is, I've finally decided to turn my back and walk away. After all I've had to deal with growing up in that house I've decided that I wouldn't even want to visit, let alone own the property that's connected to it.

You know, there are a lot of people that try and make me feel guilty for shutting that part of my life out and never looking back; but I have to admit that if I hadn't then you probably wouldn't be reading this blog right now because I would have ended my misery, rather than healing the wounds and starting a new life. Being adopted is not always in the forefront of my mind. Being adopted by people that didn't really WANT me is. I often wonder how differently my life may have turned out had I had loving, supportive parents, like so many adopted children have had. Then, I'll stop the what-if's and remember...I am who I am today because of all of that's happened and, you know what??? I like me. Even if 'they' didn't. I bought my own home, pay my own bills and have two amazing daughters and a son out there, somewhere......I think I've done pretty well for myself without their help.... especially compared to the life of the 'one' that they handed everything to.....yeah, I'm ok. Thanks mom and dad.

Frustration and all that it brings back to life...feeling like a failure

So the past few days have been very 'trying' for me....trying to retain my positive attitude, thus bringing good into my future. Trying to motivate my children to take their responsibilities seriously. Trying to live with a consistently negative man. Trying to continue the search for my son. As I said...it's been a very "trying" few days.

It still amazes me how much old emotion remains buried deep within until something triggers the memory and then WHAM! it's back at the surface. I've worked really hard over the last 7 years to let go of the past and look forward to the future while enjoying each and every moment of the present. Why is it that, sometimes, I feel like the whole world is out to push my (proverbial) buttons just to see how far I can be stretched before finally snapping? I believe that what we put forth in this world comes back to us ten-fold. I believe that the more we give out, the more we receive and I try to live every day with that as my primary motivation. I know that in order for us to know what we DO want there has to be some contrast of what we DON'T want so that we can tell the difference, but when is enough enough????

I wrote a letter last night to help out someone whom I barely know but who owns a piece of my heart because of his adoption situation. Writing that letter brought up soooooo many emotions that I thought I had 'dealt with.' I know that what's meant to be will be. I have drawn my son to me over and over again; done the affirmations. Played different scenarios over and over again in my head in preparation of that very special day. Preparing myself as best I can and working hard to stay positive.

I have been unemployed since April of 2008. Our savings is now non-existent. Gone. Used to pay bills and take care of the kids. The holidays are coming. Again, trying to stay positive. I have applied for well over 300 jobs since being unemployed - without success. Ahhhhh, rejected again, and again, and again, and again. Does that little (adopted) girl inside me take the random, anonymous rejection personally? I'm starting to think so. I find myself thinking "what's wrong with me? Why can't I get a job?" The Life Coach in me says that the Universe is aligning things to allow me to become an independent, successful personal life coach; however, the abandoned little girl AND the sad, depressed and angry first mom says "nope, it's ALL you. You don't DESERVE good." So now it's my job to help that little girl and that sad first mom to quiet down and learn to love themselves as life coach Melanee loves herself.......but first I need to figure out how to do that.

No, I don't have 'multiple personality disorder.' No, I'm not 'bi-polar.' I'm just like everyone else out there that's struggling with the state of our lives in this country. I don't want to be a statistic and I believe, with all of my heart, that there IS a very bright light at the end of the tunnel. Hell, I can see it, still. My goal is to put on some really comfortable shoes and make my way through that tunnel until I'm basking in the bright, warm, white light that shines at the other end. I've been walking for a REALLY long time....I just wonder how much further till the end....I'm more than ready.

Love to you all.

A life-stopping moment...

So I went to see my youngest daughter's Spring concert this-morning (which was LOVELY.) I dropped her off in her classroom and hung out there for a while then followed them to the performance center, wished her luck and went to stand in line and wait for the doors to open. In front of me were two women; one had a stroller with a very young baby inside. I looked down at this child's face and felt INSTANTLY connected to him but had no idea as to why...there was something in his eyes that grabbed a hold of me and wouldn't let go. I"m standing there, stunned at my inner-most feelings, with the world stopped around me fighting the urge to cry....for a moment it was only me and that beautiful little boy. Odd, I thought, hmmm, a stranger's baby and here I am, ready to cry and don't understand why. I notice the conversation.....it's the woman pushing the stroller talking to the other woman....she's speaking about 'his' adoption.....and his 'birth mother'.....and how this woman standing in front of me wants to keep the adoption 'as open as possible' but that the first mom doesn't appear to be interested...then they're talking about grandparent's rights and whether or not 'her' *the first mom's* parents can win rights...and, again, I'm stunned. THAT'S the connection!!! My heart broke as I watched the woman in front of me push a bottle into that beautiful, fussy little baby's face as she continues to talk! He's 3 months old (yes, I had asked)!!! He needs eye-to-eye contact and a physical connection when he's being fed...not to be laid in a stroller and have a bottle shoved in his face! So he starts to cough and she pulls the bottle out. She tells him that he's drinking too fast and places it back into his mouth; the other woman suggests that perhaps the milk is 'too warm' and their conversation continued. Inside the performance center, he was very, very fussy.....and I understood why.

I wanted to scoop him up and love him like he was my own. I thought 'is that how MY son had been raised?' Did they have no idea of the Primal Wound and how it affects these babies? He was 3 months old! Something in his soul spoke to mine; strange as it sounds, that' s what it felt like. My heart was broken for him; he's looking for someone that's not there and will not be coming. The a/parent seemed dis-connected from him, as if he was just a distraction or something.

I listened to their conversation without wanting to; they were, literally, RIGHT in front of me, facing one another, talking. Both experts on adoption, of course. My gut reaction was, honestly, to take that little boy and run with him...anywhere....and keep him there until his new mother could do some research and actually discover what this little, tiny baby really needs so that he can grow up and feel loved and connected and not unwanted and unloved, like the majority of us did.

It was a life-stopping moment. When I first looked down at him he took my breath away. As if he COULD actually see me. His soul searching mine...for understanding, maybe? My heart broke for him and I didn't quite understand why....then I heard the words 'his adoption' and knew......he's just like me.

The other side of adoption

So, most of you know that I am not only a first mom looking for her son but also an adoptee searching for her paternal biologic connection. Well, back in February I successfully (with the help of my search angel) found my half-brother; she found a FB profile with a name similar to what I had been told by my first mother and voila! It was him. He acknowledged that he was my bio father's son and we emailed, through FB, several times. Upon asking me for some identifying information (to which I had answered correctly) he asked me for 'some time to digest' what I had just told him. I have not heard from him again.

Now, I did NOT divulge the fact that I had talked to his (our) father back in 1996, while pregnant with my eldest daughter; I had pressured my f/m to get me his contact info as some of the prenatal testing came back questionable and they NEEDED answers and needed them fast. She, apparently, had continued sleeping with this very-married man over the years since my birth and relinquishment and knew just how to find him at his work, as an engineer at Chrysler. I called; got a voice mail and left the following message "Hi, my name is Melanee and I understand that I have questions that only you can answer" and left my number. Within 10 minutes my phone rang; it was him. When I answered the phone he stated "This is Ron Huff'. What can I do to help?" I proceeded to tell him who I was and that I understood that he was the donor to the other half of my gene pool to which he replied "Who's your mother?" and when I told him, his EXACT words were "I'm not going to dispute that. What can I do for you?" I almost fell off the chair! I told him that I needed medical background information due to questionable prenatal testing and he proceeded to give me the information that I needed. When he finished I asked him if we could meet one day...his response was "My wife and children do not know that you exist and I plan to keep it that way. Good bye." And, that was it!

The reason I kept this from my bio-brother was that I didn't want to say anything negative about his (our) father. Didn't help.

So, why am I this big, dark secret? Why don't my bio-half bro and my bio-half sister want to meet me or, at least, communicate with me? Don't THEY have the same intellectual curiosity about me that I have about them?? Do we look alike? Are our personality traits similar? Do they see me as a threat of some sort?

So, the angry part of me wants to find my bio-dad and, when he dies, go after part of the estate as his child. Well! I AM his child!!! He even went so far as to send someone else in for the blood test back in 1966. And, I have the adoption papers stating that, in 1972, when my adoption was finalized, they had notified him and he never even responded. What kind of man does that? And then for my bio mom to keep meeting up with him whenever she could to sleep with him as a mistress??? OMG!! They had had a child (ME!!) together that neither of them were raising...didn't the ever think of that?

Ok, so the not-so-angry part of me would love nothing more than to know my half-siblings and to have my children know their bio relatives. Is that really such a bad thing? Really? As an adult, why should I have to wear this veil of secrecy? Why should I have to remain in the shadows? Don't I have the right to know my family? Why doesn't he (my bio brother) feel the same?

I can understand that he's shocked that his father lied to his family about me...that part I get....but, why wouldn't HE be curious about ME??? I'm guessing that he confronted his father and it was denied yet again; however, I'd be willing to bet that seeing my face would tell him the truth about who supplied the 2nd half of my gene pool...without a doubt.

So, where do I go from here? Knowing that my bio dad doesn't want his 'dirty little secret' to get out just makes me more determined to do just that! I'm 43 years old...I'm not going to be anybody's 'dirty little secret' anymore!

It's been a while.....

Well, it's been well over a month since I had the urge to sit and write....avoidance, perhaps? Maybe it's the mood, but I read a comment on a FB post that lit me up a bit and that, my blog-reading friends, is what brought me back to this place.

In this comment a person mentioned the lack of a 'maternal instinct' in 'some' birthmothers; which made me a little irate. On a personal note, I believe that it is that very instinct that allows us to be duped into believing that handing our child over to random strangers was the 'right' thing to do because of our personal circumstances at the time of our child's birth (and yes, they still ARE our children...just because they're taken away from us doesn't automatically change our parental status). Now, that being said, I know that there are others out there whom want no contact with their children due to their lack of self-acceptance of their situations and choices (and I believe that that's ALL it is)....but to the vast majority of those that I know and have met throughout the search for my son feel the same way I do....we loved our children.

Those adoptees that were told horrid stories of how they were 'rescued' from these horrible, unwanting human incubators are the *former* children that should be used as THE example of how this system (of lies) of adoption fails us all. Let's see...adoptive parents pay some agency to find them a baby.....do they prepare them for the repercussions of the 'primal wound' and how to handle the separation from it's biological provider? No. Do they match the prospective parents to the prospective baby? No. First come, first serve. Ahhhh, just like at McDonalds, right? THEN these parents that just 'wanted a baby'...not MY baby, but A baby...can (and most will) tell these children about how they were rescued and kept because of the horrible beast of a birth mother (notice that rarely are the bio dads ever even mentioned) and that they saved them from a horrible life.....'you should be grateful to us for taking you'.....and don't argue with me...please. Lest you forget, I am an adoptee, too. I have other adult adoptee friends and for the majority of us, it's the story we've all been told.

Fast forward to some LUCKY birth parents that have the blessing of finally finding their child (I wish I was one of them) and this child, although there's a natural, intellectual curiosity about where and whom they came from, refuses to 'hurt' their adoptive parents by reaching out (instinctually) and grasping on to their live-givers in order to learn and understand more about whom THEY are as individuals, and they let the birth parent (that not only CHOSE to give them the gift of life but then painfully searched for them until they found them) stay in the dark shadows......how dreadfully sad.

Just this past Friday, after picking up my 9-year-old daughter after school, she tells me that one of the students in her classroom has been removed and placed into another class for telling a fellow student that, because she didn't look like her parents, that she felt that the other little girl had been adopted. Crying the (adopted) little girl calls her mom and asks her if she's adopted...there's no answer. The next day (Friday) the teacher has a 'meeting' with the kids in the class telling them that the (adopted) girl will not be in but that when she returns that it's not to be discussed. Why? There should be more understanding....from all sides.

Do you see the damage that has been done to that little girl by keeping 'the secret' from her? Why was it kept from her? Why is adoption treated, even to this day, like a dark, horrible secret? It breaks my heart. I guarantee, even with counseling for years, her life will NEVER be the same.

Birth mothers are NOT monsters that live in sewer pipes. Birth mothers are NOT uncaring human incubators. Birth mothers are NOT evil whores that 'threw' our 'babies out with the bathwater.' Birth mothers are MOTHERS, the FIRST mothers of those adopted babies and all the secrets and lies are NEVER gonna change that....and I think that alone threatens a lot of infertile adoptive parents because we did what they couldn't....and that's get pregnant, feel that child grow inside us, care for it, feed it, talk to it and love it. Many of you won't like my words, but right now I'm not liking the words of some folks, myself. Thanks for reading my blog.

Love, peace and harmony to us all.