Did They Forget?

"The worst feeling isn't being lonely. It's being forgotten by someone you would never forget." - Unknown

"Forgotten" seems like such a terrible word. When I looked up its definition in the dictionary, I got that it means: Not noticed inadvertently; No longer known; Dismissed from the mind. It is the perfect description to how I feel right now.

When I made the decision to place Hope for adoption 6 years ago, I knew very little of what it entailed. I tried to research as much as I could, but there wasn't very much information to be found on the Internet. I knew that I did not want a closed adoption, as I wanted to know about her and her well-being, but I did not want an open adoption because I felt like that was intrusion on her life, as well as for the life of her a-parents. The best decision I could have come up with at the time was a semi-open adoption, with the decision made by myself and Hope's a-parents to receive pictures and letters four times a year. I didn't know I could ask to see her once a year, maybe for her birthday. I didn't think to ask, and I surely didn't know that the older I got, the more I would regret that I failed to make that request.

When I signed over the relinquishment papers on September 11, 2005, I signed them over under the agreement that I would get pictures and letters of my beautiful daughter four times a year. I signed away my rights as her parent with the expectation imprinted in my mind that I would still be able to follow her life and her growth from the sidelines.

At first, the pictures and letters came as expected. I got pictures of her first Halloween as a pumpkin and her first Christmas. I got pictures of her at Valentine's Day and Easter. I was able to enjoy pictures of her with her cousins and some of her on vacation. Every time an envelope arrived in the mail, I was ecstatic by getting to see that the sacrifice I made was so incredibly worth it, as the beautiful smile on her face is priceless.

As time wore on, I have started to get pictures less frequently. I find that most of the time, I have to contact the adoption agency for pictures of her, leaving them to do the work of contacting them to hold up their end of the agreement. It almost feels as though they are trying to pull teeth, as the common excuse is that they have been busy and have not had the time to send pictures. The lady in charge of the post-adoption correspondence at the adoption agency I worked with says that this is quite common. She said that oftentimes, the birth parents who would like to hear from the a-parents have to keep after them to get the pictures and letters they initially agreed on, and usually, the birth parents who want no reminder of their children are the ones with a-parents who are constantly sending them mail. It's an unfair world.

At the request of the picture lady (as I call her), I wrote a letter to V&L, Hope's a-parents a few months ago. It was a short and simple letter telling them about how well I am doing in my life and about how much I look forward to the pictures and letters I receive from them every so often. I hoped it would be a reminder that I am still here, expecting that they hold up their end of our agreement. I mentioned that every time I got pictures of Hope, it gave me extra motivation to succeed. I offered my email address and said that if it was more convenient for them to correspond electronically, I would be happy with that.

A few weeks after I sent the card, on March 28th, I woke up and checked my email (as I do first thing every morning). I had an email from a name I didn't recognize titled "Pictures to Share". It was a simple note that said,

"Hello M,

Thanks for the nice note. It's good to hear that you and C are doing well. Social work seems like a good fit for you.
- V"

The email contained a link for a Kodak picture gallery with about 12 pictures of Hope. The pictures were from her at school, in her Halloween costume, during Christmas, at gymnastics, and on Valentine's Day. While there was nothing more said about Hope and her growth or her personality or anything else about her, it was the best unexpected surprise to see how beautiful and grown she is. It truly made my day. It took me awhile to respond to them, as I didn't know what to say, but I made sure to let them know how much I appreciated them sending me mail and that I always look forward to hearing from them. I felt like it was important to reiterate what I had written in the note I had originally sent them.

It's been 4 months since that email, and I have yet to hear back from V&L. No response to my email. No more links to anymore photo galleries. I have no pictures in my mailbox, nothing. I could choose to be angry at them and talk trash like most other birth moms do about their a-parents when their end of the deal is not held up, but I prefer not to. Talking bad about them would be immature and childish, as I was the one who selected them to be my daughter's parents. I do my best to be as understanding as possible as they both must be busy trying to maintain their daily lives with work, a home and a child. I make excuses for them in my head, reminding them that it is summer time and they are probably on vacation to some exotic place, as they usually take trips to various places.

It's hard not to feel like I am forgotten, though. I understand that they went through a lot to try to get pregnant and that dealing with infertility must have taken such an emotional toll on them. I get that they probably want to live their lives as normal as possible, trying to forget that they don't really share the same blood as their beautiful little girl.  They are, after all, her parents. They are the ones who brought her home from the hospital. The people who stayed up all night when she was hungry, or sick, or fussy. They have raised her to be the amazing little girl that she is. They are the nurture while I am the nature. Could nature really be forgotten?

I wonder if V&L look at her beautiful smile, or her big brown eyes, or her wildly curly hair and think to themselves which piece of her came from them. I wonder if people stop them on the street and compliment the cute little girl with them, saying she looks like her dad (who is also Hispanic). I wonder if they tell people she was adopted, or if they let the world believe that they created her, forgetting that I am also a part of that picture.

I know, it probably sounds like the rant of a crazy woman, since I was the one who chose to place her for adoption in the first place. Regardless of what excuse they have this time for not sending pictures, I'm not mad. I do my best to understand. Maybe being forgotten is a part of the process, and I just have to live with the fact that they just want to live as normal of a life as possible so that they can forget that they don't share the same blood as their daughter. I know I probably would. I just wish it was as easy for me to forget that we do.

Getting Through

It's FINALLY Monday! I made it through and survived another Mothers Day. It took a lot of tears to get here, but it is over and done with for another year. Yay, for crossing another Hope-less Mother's Day off of the calender.

Getting out of bed yesterday was pretty rough. I woke up and the immense weight of the day and its meaning to me held me down. I didn't want to get up and do anything. I figured that if I hid out under my covers, the day would pass in an instant and Monday would come quicker. Yeah, not so much. Yesterday seemed like the longest day of the year to me.

Regardless of how much I miss Hope, I am still C's mom. Spending the day hibernating doesn't dismiss me of my motherly duties. I had no choice but to get out of bed, especially to go to church with him and mom. It took some struggle, but I got dressed and went to mass. I had to, especially since he had just done his First Communion the day before. I was so thankful that it wasn't such a Mothers Day focused mass and I was able to escape without getting watery eyes.

After getting through church, mom wanted to pick up stuff so we could barbecue at home. I felt like a zombie as we walked through Costco. It was the weirdest feeling to be walking around with my head up in the clouds. What was I thinking about? I have NO idea, but mentally, I wasn't there. We couldn't have finished shopping any quicker. The moment we got home was the worst. I went to my room and cried and cried and cried until I had no more tears left in me. It was the worst when my mom came in to check on me and tell me that she wanted me to spend time with the family, She saw that I was crying and asked what was wrong, and I started sobbing uncontrollably. She knew exactly what was wrong, and said, as nicely as possible, that she knows it's Mother's Day and that I am sad, but that I have to celebrate being the mother of the child I do have. She couldn't be more right, but I didn't want him to see me so sad. I wiped my tears and washed my face and went to spend time with the family. We had dinner and soon afterwards, I felt sick to my stomach. I couldn't stop throwing up after dinner. It was the first time my emotions made me physically sick.

Through all of this, all the anger I felt I took out on J. I was angry that he wasn't with me to save me from the pain I felt. I was mad that he had no clue as to what I was going through. I guess I was expecting him to be my prince charming and save me from such despair. I was a bitch through text. I was irritated that he didn't call me and just texted me. Everything bothered me and I took out all the anger and frustrations I had on him, which totally wasn't fair to him. Through a few mean texts, and a moment where I hung up on him, he sent me this text (which I hope he's ok with me sharing):

"If I could write a blog about dating a single mom and a Bm it would go like this ....Being in a relationship with a single mom and Bm has its challenges. There is no book out for me to deal with a single mother nor is there a book dealing with a Bm ...being selfish is out the window, something that I have done in the past. Knowing that there will alwAys be someone that comes before you is something I have learned to adjust to...I have asked myself at times if I'm ready to be with a single mother. Unlike other single mothers, M has no baby daddy drama which makes me love her more. Yes, lil C has been raised all alone with one person playing mom and dad, and with help of her parents she makes it. I see the struggle she endures on a daily bases, a lot of which I don't think many people could deal with. All I can say or do is promise her things will get better... That is just one aspect I have to deal with. M is also a bm. Birthmom is something I have never heard of until I met M. This aspect of her life is really a struggle bc I don't have anyone to ask for guidance on how to deal with my love crying and the hot and cold mood changes ...I don't know if I'm saying the right things or the right things that should be said ...all I can hope for is that in time I can be and deal with her better ...."

Needless to say I was in tears when I read this. I'm even in tears now I as I share this. It's amazing that after 5 months I know that J is the one person I can't see my life without. I haven't been the nicest person to him and he still managed to show me how much he cares about me. Underneath his manly gorilla ways, he has a soft heart and is sensitive to my needs, even if his response isn't immediately what I want. I have to remember that this is new to him and to most anyone else who isn't a birthmom, and I can't expect everyone to understand. I am thankful that he acknowledged not understanding and promised that it won't be like this next time around. I felt relief in knowing that he planned on there being for a next time around :)

All in all, I got through one of the most dreaded days of the year and I am determined to go back to normal. Actually, I almost feel normal this morning as I get my day started. I have nothing but gratefulness for the amazing love and support I have from the people who matter most. I am happy to know that while a piece of my heart will always be missing, the rest of my heart is filled to the brim with love and affection from the people who truly love and care about me. I really am a very lucky girl.