Pray
Please pray for the Bean. Not for me but for her/him. I know I can be hard to read and for those that know me, a bit hard headed and bitchy. I’m sure I have rubbed people the wrong way at times but please please just pray for my Bean.
Some of my tests came back pretty bad. I don’t care about the ones that came back bad for me. I can deal with that. Please pray that the ones that came back bad for Bean are wrong. Pray that Bean is healthy. Pray that the new tests are better. Light candles, chant, say rosaries, do anything.
Stupid Radio
Your Guardian Angel
by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
When I see your smile
Tears run down my face I can’t replace
And now that I’m strong I have figured out
How this world turns cold and it breaks through my soul
And I know I’ll find deep inside me I can be the one
I will never let you fall
I’ll stand up with you forever
I’ll be there for you through it all
Even if saving you sends me to heaven
It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.
Seasons are changing
And waves are crashing
And stars are falling all for us
Days grow longer and nights grow shorter
I can show you I’ll be the one
I will never let you fall (let you fall)
I’ll stand up with you forever
I’ll be there for you through it all (through it all)
Even if saving you sends me to heaven
Cuz you’re my, you’re my, my, my true love, my whole heart
Please don’t throw that away
Cuz I’m here for you
Please don’t walk away and
Please tell me you’ll stay, stay
Use me as you will
Pull my strings just for a thrill
And I know I’ll be okay
Though my skies are turning gray
I will never let you fall
I’ll stand up with you forever
I’ll be there for you through it all
Even if saving you sends me to heaven
I heard this song in the car yesterday. It spoke to something deep inside me. The tears started flowing and I was powerless to stop them. I had to pull over until they stopped. I’m sure I looked like an idiot crying my eyes out in a parking lot all alone.
All I could see was A’s tiny perfect little face. I wanted to run to her. Just say screw it and drive the hours to be with her. (hoping I am not arrested at the door) I wanted to hold her tight and tell her I love her more than life itself. That I have loved her that deeply from the moment I knew she existed. That not once, even for a single second has that love wavered. That I would give my life to spare her a single second of pain. That I will never let her fall.
I want to see her face. I want to smell her. To feel her warmth. To hear her. I crave any tiny part of her.
Yet I sit here left with nothing but longing. I can’t hear her, smell her, see her, or feel her. I can’t protect her. I can’t keep her from falling. Half the time i can’t even speak of her. But i can think of her. No one can deny me that. I can love her with every fiber of my being and pray that one day she will want to know that love. FOr now that is all I have.
Oh baby girl, I love you more than words can say. I would do anything for you. For now I will sit here and wait, and pray and love.
DEMONS IN ADOPTION
On october 4th the Congressional Coalition on Adoption Institute will hold their annual Angels in Adoption gala, where several people will be honored with the Angels in Adoption Reward.
To raise a voice against adoption propaganda and this self congratulatory practive, Pound Pup Legacy is proud to introduce the first edition of the annual Demons of Adoption Awards.
This years nominees are:
Adoption.com, for systematically banning voices that oppose current adoption practices
Congressional Coalition on Adoption Institute for awarding persons and organizations that promote the one sided point of view of the adoption industry.
Council on Accreditation for having fierce adoption lobbyists in their board of trustees, making the accreditation process a dubious conflict of interest affair.
National Council for Adoption for pushing the adoption agenda in pregnancy consultation.
National Safe Haven Alliance for promoting legislation that promotes child abandonment.
NYC Administration for Children’s Services for not checking up on Judith Leekin.
By voting You can help decide who will receive this award.
go here to vote: http://poundpuplegacy.org/node/7874
Name Calling
Rape me,
Rape me my friend
Rape me,
Rape me again
I’m not the only one
Hate me,
Do it and do it again.
Waste me,
Rape me my friend.
I’m not the only one
from Nirvana’s Rape me
These words evoke strong feelings in most people. I have no doubt many of you are recoiling in terror and disgust that I would even put these words on my blog. You’re wondering what I am thinking, what is my point, what am I getting at?
They are strong powerful words. They make you recoil. They should churn up feelings you would rather not have. Rape is terrible. It is a reality in our world that should be abolished. Most people agree that it is horrid and should never be condoned. But most people also refuse to see that it comes in more than one form.
I would love to say that everyone admits to the effects of physical rape but that is far from true. Victims are still blamed. Rapists are set free. The effects are ignored and the victims put down for having any problems years down the road. Yet some people still see it. Not enough but some.
Rape of the soul is almost completely ignored. (not saying either is worse pain wise) The victims are told to go on with life as though nothing ever happened. They are ridiculed and put down on a daily basis. They are called names that re-victimize them by most of society. They are told it is all their fault.
The way I was treated by the adoption industry was a rape of the soul. It is scary how similar the after effects are to when I was physically raped. Almost identical actually. Only this time no one will even see that it happened.
So what is my point? When you call me nothing but a birthmother, tell me it was my choice, say that I signed papers (which is still up for debate) you are re-raping my soul. It is exactly the same as when I was told I was a whore, my dress was too short, I was asking for it. Hearing the word birthmother inspires the same panic in me that hearing about a rapist does.
I know not every person whose child was adopted feels this way. Some are fine with being called that word. Some could care less either way. But that does not make it any less painful for me or the countless others that it hurts. It is not ok to re-victimize us because others are fine with it. It is not ok to call us something that hurts our soul so deeply. If you just simply can not respect us as fellow human beings enough not to do this then keep your mouth shut. Hell call me “Hey you” for all I care. Just do not call me that for any reason. EVER!
Trust
As you can imagine, trust is not one of my strong points. I never let anyone too close. No one really knows me. I am my own best kept secret.
I have gotten so good at this its scary. I asure you there are at least 15 people that would tell you I am totally wrong. They are confident that they know me. They are sure I share my thoughts and feelings with them. They are sure they have seen the real me hiding under all the shit.
Its not that I don’t want to trust them. Some of them I want to trust more than anything. I just can’t. I can’t tell them what I think or feel. I can’t take the risk of them judging me. I can’t push my fear aside enough to reach out to anyone. I try. I really do try hard. Even in therapy I find myself pretending to be someone else. Maybe I just like who I pretend to be more than I like me.
The person I seem to be is pretty cool. At least I think she is. You would really have to ask the people I know. The person I pretend to be seems so strong. She is always there to help others no matter how much pain she is in. She keeps it together instead of curling up in a little ball crying and sobbing until she passes out.
The real me isn’t like that. I have to disconnect from reality to be able to even pretend to be like that.
I’m not really sure what I am so scared of. Maybe I am scared of everyone leaving me if they saw the real me; but I do my best to push them away so maybe not. Maybe I am afraid of them staying just to say they never left me. I dread their pity. Maybe I am scared they will lock me up like my parents did. Just lock me away and act like I was never there while they pat themselves on the back for “helping” me. Maybe I am scared that they will think I am as much of a failure as I think I am.
Flashbacks
Flashbacks are a very real part of my life now. They suck. They are painful, they are intense and they are real! I can not just turn them off or pretend they didn’t happen.
When I have a flashback it is very much happening now. It is not the same as a memory. It is happening. It might not be happening in the real world but in the world of my mind it is happening. It is all happening just like it did the first time. The feelings surrounding it will be the same as they were the first time.
Yet I get the same comment from everyone around me. It isn’t really happening. Its not real. Its not like the first time. Its just a memory. Aren’t you over it by now?
WEll I am not an idiot so I am well aware I wasn’t transported back in time. Yet it feels like it. I know its a flashback but that does not make it feel different.
When I had flashbacks of my rape no one said these things. Instead they just reassured me I was safe. Why is it different because these flashbacks are about adoption? Is the PTSD less real now? Maybe people just care less. After all this is all my fault right?
Unless you have PTSD and have the joy of flashbacks don’t tell someone it isn’t real or isn’t happening. You only make it worse. If you don’t know what to say just say nothing. A simple hand on the shoulder is much better than saying the wrong damn thing all the time
Aborted Mother 