This Says It All

Thanks to the author and artist, Mike Peters, of "Mother Goose and Grimm," one of my favorite comic strips.


I am going to find a way to get this printed on a tee shirt! If anyone should ever stop to wonder why so many adopted people have that feeling of being a bit "out of place," this should explain it.

You cannot imprint your genetic and family heritage on a child, no matter what your hopes, when adopting, might be. What I wonder is, where is the mother giraffe and what was done to force her to surrender her baby? And I wonder if the cartoonist purposely gave the adopted giraffe that bewildered expression?

I wonder, most of all, if the female kangaroo's name is Angelina? It would make sense. 'Nuff said.

Cleopatra, Quixotes and Dubyas/ Dead Pigs

My maternal grandmother used to say that someone who keeps themselves removed from all reality are "as happy as a dead pig in the sunshine." There was a time when I didn't really get her meaning, but I think I can see the analogy. That dead pig is oblivious to all that is going on around its bloated carcass. They are entrenched in a certain mindset, convinced that they are right and everyone else is wrong and enjoy the deep, untroubled sleep of the self-righteous.

I have divided my dead pigs into three categories. Cleopatras are the ones in denial. They insist they had a choice and that there are no repercussions to be had from the crimes against the mothers of the EMS. They refuse to see the coercion and punitive actions of an unjust society of holocaust proportions as real or comparable. To admit that there was ever a time in their, oh so superior, lives when they were not in control is beyond their ability to understand. These are also the ones who usually have unbalanced reunions where their children run the show.

Quixotes are the tilters at every windmill in the world. Rather than concentrating on one issue at a time, examining it, plotting a course of action and following through, they try to be all things to all people. They lump all their windmills together and dilute their effectiveness trying to justify that move. These are also the people who need a healthy dose of cynicism when it comes to adoption facilitators and adopters. They do not realize their own limitations and keep trying to sell their adoption stew as palatable to all.

Dubyas are the deniers, not to be confused with those in denial. Deniers, aka "deciders," are bullies who are smugly sure that they should be in charge. They are great at pushing emotional buttons and hurting the vulnerable among us. They will summarily dismiss anyone else's experience as invalid and superimpose their idealized version of their own as the only valid truth. There are a lot of adopters, loyal adoptees and good birthmartyrs in the Dubya category. One can be both a Cleopatra and a Dubya in many cases.

Mixed in among these dead pigs, are a few of us still up and running. These are the hopeful, the idealists who still have a modicum of faith in justice. We run into roadblocks and, rather than giving up, we try to chart a course around them. We receive hate mail from the Cleos and the Quixotes and REALLY hateful mail from the Dubyas. But we also have a sisterhood of support that is second to none.

While it is true that most of us are average women (very few of us are the ultimately most savvy swine in the sty) we have very adequate intelligence, years of experience, memories, and the time it took to process those memories and pull out the truth. Not all of us have degrees or prestige among the upper echelons of this upside-down society. No, we are the ones who form the backbone of this nation, and whose work, purchases, family values (the REAL kind) and very lives allow the financially and socially elite to live as well as they do. Even the ones among us who have achieved success tend to be less self-congratulatory than our national elite.

Pigs are very smart animals. While a lot of people will say "ewwwww," the fact is that pigs are every bit as smart as dogs or dolphins. But a dead pig is still a dead pig. You leave it out in the sun to bloat and decompose, and it stinks just like any other dead animal.

But, the sucker's happy.

Courage

I used to consider myself a bit of a wimp...a coward who was afraid to rock the boat or make enemies. Then I watched the 'Wizard of Oz' for about the umpteenth time, and I concentrated on the great Bert Lahr's character, The Cowardly Lion.

I realized that, sometimes, wisdom is mistaken for cowardice. When the enemy is too powerful to fight, it's just plain smart to retreat and start looking for another way to meet your goal. I also realized that, as the saying goes, " Courage is not the absence of fear but doing what you must in spite of that fear."

Now I don't know that I and my sisters in SMAAC and in other groups have acquired courage borne of our anger at the injustice done to us, or just reached a time in our lives when we don't give a rat's ass about what people might think of us. I suspect it is a combination of both. But I do know we are up against a powerful enemy and we are still shooting off our collective mouths at them. Sometimes, that makes me feel like Rocky, jogging in step with fists thrown up in the air at the top of the step. "Flying High" feels good.

The Wizard told the lion that the only thing he lacked was a medal commemorating his bravery, because all the other components for courage were in place, inside this dear creature. Our medals are ribbons...black for sorrow, red for passion and action and white for hope and love. We will be wearing our medals next month. We will be telling people who ask just what they mean. We will run afoul of our share of adopters and social workers and just plain people who "know someone" who had an adoption that turned out just frickin' wonderful. And we can stand there and say our piece and not back down because we have been given the gift of courage.

I made a comment, yesterday, that, until women stopped predating on their sisters and taking their babies, we wouldn't get very far as an emancipated gender. There are a lot of male adoption attorneys, facilitators and eugenicists who are banking on that weakness in our ranks. I called it "reproductive cannibalism" and the name fits. Now, if our sisters could stop looking on their less affluent, unmarried sisters as fields ripe for harvest and start helping them be mothers to their own, borne children, then the courage factor would shoot off the scale because we would all be on the same page. If we can put the coveting, the desire for 'motherhood at any cost' off the agenda and start really helping mothers and their children, we would be the ones to inherit the earth...not because we were meek, but because we showed the courage of our convictions, empathy and a united front.

With a united front, we could get between the new mothers-to-be and those that would take her infant for adoption BEFORE she is coerced into signing those papers. But to do that, we all have to stop sleeping with the enemy. The industry and the covetors are not going to do us any good. We have to band together and weave a safety net for these new moms. I envision a crowd of little families, with children growing up, knowing they were wanted by the women who bore them and the family from which they get their natural heritage.

It's a dream, but it's a good one and, we pray, it's doable.

A Slight Departure

We have long proclaimed that adoption and abortion are two separate issues. Once a women chooses to terminate a pregnancy, then adoption is a moot issue. It is only when a baby is carried to term that adoption rears its ugly, eugenic head. So, here I go, breaking another one of my rules.

The "adoption, a loving option" inanity does not ring true to those of us who have been separated by this institution. It makes me wonder just what is behind these anti-choice protests. Is it a genuine belief that a zygote is life or is it a church/agency wanting to rake in some bucks while pushing its own eugenics program? I suspect the latter. Plus, I get very testy when some religious group tried to impose their dogma on the rest of the country via our national laws.

Separation of church and state is still a part of our constitution, Oh Self-Righteous Ones, and your rights end where mine begin.

This is an issue to which I had sworn I wouldn't give space or credence. But having had a loved one shouted at and called a murderer when she went into a women's clinic, it is hard not to enter the fray. Now, when our reproductive rights are being frantically, and, might I say, desperately challenged, it is time for those of us who really believe in reproductive rights to step forward and have our say.

The National Organization of Women lists adoption as a "reproductive choice." If any of these people have ever been pregnant and had the pressure and coercion laid on them that we mothers of adoption loss have had piled on our backs, they might re-think that word "choice." I should think that it would be a duty for NOW to protect a single and/or poor woman's choice to keep and raise her baby.

So, in its own way, the NOW is in bed with the anti-choicers. Either way, mothers are being guilted by one group into carrying a pregnancy to term, and given no support by the other when that full-term baby is grabbed by the agencies and social workers through coercion and emotional bullying.

It is to the industry's and to the Christian Right Wing's advantages to chip away at Roe v Wade. It is probably due to the adopters in their ranks that allows NOW to ignore the predation on women that occurs with adoption. This is why NOW's voice has no more power than it does and why we are having to scream at the top of our lungs. Women are becoming predator and prey..reproductive cannibals...and it is sick, sad and totally unethical.

We have a choice, next month. We can choose to carry on this madness or we can put someone in the White House who, at least, seems to have an open mind. We need to write our letters, we need to use our votes and we need to protect the right to choose whether or not we, our daughters and granddaughters can make our own decisions concerning our own bodies and our babies. It's not just Roe v Wade that is in peril, but also the right of women to safe, effective birth control regardless of age or marital status. That's a biggie and should not be ignored.

Right now, we still have a modicum of choice. While some states have eroded the right to choose, there is still the option to go to a more open state and have a procedure done there. If the adoption industry and the, so-called, "Moral" Majority have their way, we are back to the maternity homes, forced surrender and loss of acess to birth control.

Can we, as women, really afford a giant step backwards?

I might also note that important issues such as the economy and its effect on the middle class and the poor, healthcare and education are Jonahs, at risk of going down the gullets of the big business fish. So use your right and responsibility to vote. It is one of the few things we can do.

Remembering When

Forty-Six years after the fact, I still find this time in my life hard to write about. But, as a Senior Mother and member of SMAAC, these are the things that we want to bring to the public's attention.

I was 15, it was 1961 and I was deeply in love with a boy, one who didn't have the maturity to love me back the way I so desperately desired. Oh, he said he loved me, and, in his own way, I guess he did. But mostly he wanted one thing from me and, in order to keep him, I did what he wanted me to do. Just before my 16th birthday, my daughter was conceived. It was also when his parents decided that he needed to get away from me (he was "too young" to be serious about a girl) and from some other "bad influences" and sent him to visit some relatives in California for a month.

Realizing that I had missed a period was terrifying. I have never felt so alone in my life. I was "one of those girls." I was "in trouble," and there was no one to help me or to make it go away. There was no Roe v Wade or access to birth control for single women. I didn't even know what birth control was except for condoms. I was amazed that this had happened to me because my sex education had been spotty and filled with erroneous ideas. I thought that what my boyfriend and I did was nothing like the sacred thing a married couple did to have children. To say I was confused was an understatement. I spent precious weeks in denial.

One thing sticks out in my mind and that is the fact that, though I gave in to my boyfriend's demands, I was a product of my Bible-Belt upbringing and I never was able to even enjoy the act. There was too much guilt in me. I even remember seeking the help of my minister.

Telling my parents was the most horrible experience imaginable. I had a close friend with me and she had urged me to tell them and promised to stand by me when I told them. We were in our kitchen and I will never forget the look of utter despair and disappointment on their faces. Once my mother stopped crying, I was ordered to keep my condition a complete secret while they figured out what to do. I was so emotionally exhausted from carrying the load all by myself, that I was happy to let them do the thinking for a while.

Little did I know that their plans included isolating me from my community and family, housing me with strangers and the "choice" to either surrender my baby for adoption or be homeless. I became an outcast in my community and shamed by my own family. My boyfriend ran like a rabbit and denied paternity. I was given a false name, treated like a delinquent with mental and emotional problems, challenged with questions about my "fitness" whenever I mentioned keeping my baby and told that I was a bad influence on my younger sisters. I guess they thought they would catch the pregnancy virus. The words "bastard" and "slut" were thrown around like balloons at a party.

I was given medical care, but it, such as it was, was also a humiliating experience. On "clinic day," we lined up in the hall, outside the nurse's office and exam room, wearing skirts with no underwear, as directed. We would be called in, one at a time, and given pelvic examinations, whether we needed one or not, by interns doing their OB/GYN rotations, while other interns and the OB/GYN resident looked on. Often, these exams were rough and painful and always, always embarrassing and demeaning.

When the time came to deliver, I remember hearing the nurses whisper to each other that "this one is from the home." They seemed to hold me in disdain and one even told me that the pain I was experiencing was what I deserved. I had to fight to see and hold and name my baby, but I did that and cherished the time I had with her in the hospital. As soon as I was out, the Social Worker was waiting for me, at the home, with the papers. I was still hormonal from giving birth, taking pain medication and signed the papers in a daze. I also broke down in tears after signing, but was persuaded, by then, what with all the coercion, that I would be a toxic mother to my child. I found out, 33 years later, that I would have been a great mother.

This is the time that we, at SMAAC, want to present to the nation. This is the time when helpless, vulnerable young women were subjected to a grave injustice. The fact that I was sexually assaulted when my daughter was four months old, by a guy who knew my boyfriend and believed his tales of my "easy manner" means that I went through this horror, not once, but twice. That is one time in my life when I would have loved to have been a bit less fertile. But I loved my son, regardless of the means of his conception, and wanted him as desperately as I wanted his older sister.

This lack of choice, autonomy, support and comfort was part and parcel of the Era of Mass Surrenders. My story is not unique. There are minor differences in some of our stories, but the injustice, mistreatment and ultimate pain of loss are all constants. Add to that the fact that our families and others disregarded our grief and did not want to witness our mourning. So that grief, we stuffed along with all the rest of the pain, until the days of our awakening.

We know, now, that a burgeoning industry that catered to infertile couples of the "right kind" was forming around our tragedies. We were the supply conduits to meet the demands for healthy infants. It makes me wonder why our babies were in such high demand when we were characterized as morally, psychologically and socially delinquent. (*see "Wake Up Little Suzie" by Rickie Solinger)

Most of us are in our late 40's, 50's and 60's and up. Many of us have been in reunion for quite a while. I have been reunited with both my children for 15 years. Once we got past the recurrence of grief, learned a few painful, home truths about what had happened to our children and how they saw us, we began to talk to each other and that is how we learned that we are numbered in the millions. We were ordered to keep our "dirty secret," even from the men we eventually married. Many of us felt that was not appropriate and told and it was amazing that there were men who loved us for ourselves and felt that we were good enough to marry. That was NOT what we were told would happen. We were told that "no decent man would have us" if he knew.

When I became engaged to my first husband, I was even told that I would not be allowed to wear white, have music, flowers or attendants because I was no longer a virgin. So, we eloped. Since then, I have learned how many non-virgins made that trip down the aisle in their pure white and, when I married my current, wonderful husband, I WORE WHITE!

The full story of the injustices against the Senior Mothers of the EMS would take ten blogs and still not tell it all. I can only give you the summary of my punishment and pain. It's time for someone to answer to this. If they can apologize to other minorities for unfair treatment, then they can do the same for us. If they can investigate other injustices with an eye to future prevention, then they can do the same for ours. It's not just something that is right and proper..it is no less than what we deserve. We have earned justice.

Ride In The Middle Of The Road......

.....and you might get hit, get a ticket, or both. When you take the center of the route, you can get hit from both sides. Better to choose a side and then you know what will be coming at you.

We often get our hands slapped by "moderate" factions in this battle for justice for Senior Mothers and for our opinions concerning a lot of things. While I am not particularly dogmatic, and I can listen to reason if it makes sense, I also know that when I take a stand, it is important to stick to that stance and be strong in what I believe. How can we make a difference in the perception of Mothers from the EMS and what it has caused in today's world if we are constantly softening our beliefs to keep from seeming "too militant" or "polarized?"

Those of us who suffered the injustices and indignities of the EMS know who the enemy was and is. They are recognizable for their eagerness to promote infant adoption, to label young, single mothers as unfit, to want to change the law of the land to take away a woman's right to choice and to birth control, and to invoke God as their authority in adopting, campaigning for barriers to women's reproductive rights and any other pet cause that furthers their agenda.

Decades ago, we listened to our elders and (so-called "professional experts") and weakened our resolve. We allowed them to coerce us into believing that we would be toxic to our own children based on nothing more than our age, our marital and financial status and their blue-nosed, Puritanical mores. That's when we got hit, wrecked, mangled and sent to the body shop for a "make-over." Just like a car, once wrecked, never is quite the same, we never regained our virginity or, for many of us, our goals in life.

Many of us married the first man who would have us (what with us being "damaged goods") and tried to conceive "replacement children" as soon as we could. Others became the victims of secondary infertility. Some went downhill, others went, obsessively, uphill, trying to prove our worth. What was done to us was damage that cannot be fixed by outer, cosmetic means. Our hearts and souls were wrecked and scarred and would never quite function as well as before...until the light bulbs in our brains went off and we saw what needed to be done.

We have been our own mechanics. We have healed and are now out for justice. The wreck was not our fault and we are fighting the ticket. No middle of the road for us, we are taking a stance and sticking to our lane. And in doing so, we just might step on some tender toes. Too bad. To paraphrase the late, talented composer and comedy writer, Mason Williams, "they done stomped on our hearts and they mashed those suckers flat!"

So, if we seem to have a distrust of certain entities, it is with good reason. We are going back there in order to seek justice. But we'll be damned if we will stand by and allow those certain entities to take our entire society back there for another run. I have daughters, a granddaughter and a great granddaughter and I will not have them subjected to that self-righteous, arrogant judgment that took me down. If I ride in the middle of the road, there is a good chance that will happen.

So I am staying in my lane, fighting for justice for Senior Moms, voting against those who would send women back to the "barefoot and pregnant" era and naming names. We are going to be putting up a "Wall of Shame" for those who were at fault in our wrecks. Here are the names of a few that would sideswipe you if you are riding in the middle of the road.

The "Moral Majority"

The "Christian Right"

John McCain

Sarah Palin

The church-run "Crisis Pregnancy Centers"

Adoption Agencies specializing in infant adoption

Trolling PAPs who write "Dear Birthmartyr" letters

Most of the members of the Republican Party

Some of the members of the Democratic Party

Fundamentalist, Evangelical, Pentacostal and Charismatic church leaders and their sheep

The fanatics who stand outside the women's clinics, shouting and waving Bibles

US, if we don't speak up and speak out!

When I Vote

I had promised myself that I would not get too political in this blog, but the endorsement of S. Palin, moose-hunting, uber-conservative and the Republican candidate for veep by the L.A. leader of that city's chapter of NOW just blew all my good intentions out the window. Here it is as reported by Fox News; ""Speaking as an individual and not for her organization, Shelley Mandell, who is the President of the Los Angeles chapter of the National Organization for Women and a self-described lifelong Democrat, has endorsed Sarah Palin.

Please Note*, it is on record that the National Organization for Women, as an entity, endorses the Barack-Biden ticket because they are our best bet for protection of our reproductive rights as far as birth control and Roe v Wade is concerned. Palin is an evangelical, anti-choice Tweedle Dum to McCain's Tweedle Dee. Mandell has lost her perspective somewhere along the line and is endorsing with her vagina. This is what I was afraid might happen when Hillary Clinton lost the nomination and McCain's machine dusted off Palin and pulled her in. Sorry, Ms. Mandell, but Palin's gender does not qualify her for the big ticket.

When I vote, and I don't vote in every election, (I'm not big, for instance, on who sits on the school boards in FL. This state is sunk, anyway.) I try to use my head. When I do exercise that right and privilege that was hard-won for me by sister militants from an earlier age, I vote with my brain, not my genitals or my race. While both sides of the aisle are fairly adoption-friendly, I know where our best chances lie to keep our personal freedoms as women and it isn't with Perky Palin and Mr. McCain. I also know where the best chance lies of finding an open mind to hear our stories and it isn't in the direction of the GOP.

Just as there are the "Birthmartyrs" who betray their sister mothers with their attitudes and philosophies, there are also members of our own gender who are NOT in it to help out their sisters. My view of Palin is of a power-greedy hypocrite. There are enough scandals in her background and that of her hubby to merit a vote against her if you want to think like her party does, but her platform and views are all it takes for me. Her pregnant daughter is not in that list. Let's just hope that expected grandchild of this inexperienced fish from a sparsely-populated pond doesn't wind up surrendered for adoption.

I don't watch the debates. I read them, later. But make no mistake...I keep myself informed. There is no such thing as the perfect candidate for anyone, but an anti-choice adopter and an anti-choice evangelical on the same ticket gives me the creeps. I will be throwing my support behind Obama and Biden and pray that I don't have to move out of the country if they don't win. I don't believe we can trust McCain/Palin, either financially, with foreign policy or with our personal rights. It would be just a continuation of the lame duck disaster now sitting in Washington, enjoying the down time.

Call me crazy, but voting for a veep candidate just because she is a woman is like choosing a school for your child just because the principal has blue eyes. Vagina voting is knee-jerk and unbecoming for thinking women.

Please remember, Sisters. It's not what's between the legs but what is in the platform that counts.

Reunion Is Just The Start

In the adoption support arena, the main thrust has been obtaining and maintaining reunion between the mothers who lost to adoption and their adult adopted children. Sometimes it works and sometimes, the stress of the stigma and the separation throws the whole thing into a cocked hat. It is what it is and we try to learn to live with it.

But for Senior Mothers from the EMS (Era of Mass Surrenders), it is no longer about reunion. Some of us have been reunited with our children for nearly 20 years. My own reunions are 15 years old. Once the pink cloud cleared and we stopped listening to the destructive, demeaning tapes that were planted in our brains, we started thinking for ourselves (what a concept!) and coming to some startling conclusions.

We have found ourselves remembering and confronting the horror of our tragedy that was intermingled with the joy of giving life. We have noted and compared notes on how we were treated by family, clergy, social workers, extended family and the community at large. We are gathering our medical data and case records and finding that there were many things that were done that were very, very wrong.

The birth and subsequent loss to adoption of our newborns was not, for us, the beginning of the story. Our stories began with the realization that we were pregnant, with the horror of confronting our parents, with, for many of us, the abandonment by the fathers of our babies, with shaming, stigmatizing, and emotional manipulation. There was the isolation that was the maternity prisons. Being sent away from home, from all we held close, and put into an environment that was, in many instances, totally punitive is a common thread in our stories.

Being used by the people who were responsible for our medical care as "practice patients" for interns, given medications we should not have been given, and laboring under the disdainful eyes of morally offended nurses were parts and parcels of the punishment we had to endure. The best reading for this era is Rickie Solinger's "Wake Up Little Suzie" and Ann Fessler's "The Girls Who Went Away." Both these books give insight into the attitude towards the unwed, usually white and middle-class, mothers of our day.

During this horrible period of isolation, most of us were doing what most pregnant moms-to-be do...we were falling in love with our babies and having to deal with the fact that we might never see our child after she or he was born. Some of us looked out windows and daydreamed of the fathers coming to rescue us and our child. The fact that it didn't happen or wasn't allowed to happen is evident by our sheer numbers.

In SMAAC, we look only at the mistreatment, the emotional and mental manipulation, the injustices that would let a minor sign away her child while refusing her jobs, an education, or even a place to live. People could treat human beings like that back then because of "moral reasons." We also look at the life-long damage that this treatment caused and that reunion could not repair.

Reunion was just the beginning of our awakening. It was the spring-board, for many of us, to self-esteem, strength and renewed sense of purpose. The isolating, shaming, manipulation, punishment and ultimate harvesting of our infants, indiscriminately and with no thought to our grief and pain was wrong then as it is wrong today. This is a women's issue, even if our silent sisters at NOW don't include this. Men were the ones who created this atmosphere of the scarlet letter. Our boyfriends were the ones who walked away with a wink and a nudge while we hid, labored and bled.

THAT is what SMAAC is about...it is about injustice, it is about acknowledgement and, above all, Sister Senior Mothers, for a change, it is about US.

THEY LURK!!!!!!!!

It was really weird that the entire time my friend was visiting, you couldn't see a single gator no matter how hard you looked. The best we were able to do was sight some of the gentle eddys they leave behind when they submerge.

Nevertheless, I had to constantly ensure her that, yes, there are many, many alligators in Florida waters, but sometimes they are hard to spot. Often, at certain times of the day, they will be lurking, just under the surface, doing their predator thing. It was so comical that, driving back from the airport after dropping her off, I crossed Lake Jesup and counted 5 gators swimming north. I don't think she will ever believe me. She told me when I showed her a gator, she'd show me a leprechaun.

That "lurking behavior" turned my mind to the more destructive forces on the Internet adoption circuit. Some of our own can be our worst enemies. Just like a gator can lie in the water and look like a floating log until it finds prey, the mixers and users can blend in and seem to be just another adoption-affected person until they show their teeth. Self-promotion and attempts at recruitment are just a couple of the things they can do to mess up our fondest dreams.

Pro-adoption factions, agency personnel and adopters, also often lurk on adoption activism sites, just under the water where the shadows hide them while they observe and try to find the weaknesses in our ranks. That's not paranoia....that's facts. They are the big gators...the ones with the money and the pull with congressional reps and judges. If it looks like we are starting to make a difference, they can call in their spin doctors and, "Chomp! Chomp!," we're gator food.

We have a little rule of thumb, here in gator-land. We never go walking close to wild water alone and we don't let little children and small pets close to the water's edge. Alligators can move quite fast on land...especially a female with a nest. The joke goes that if you are careful and walk with a friend, when the gator comes at you, you trip your friend up and then run. The gator will make herself busy with your buddy so that you can get away. That sounds like some of the Internet poseurs who call themselves our "friends and sisters." That's the self-involved mom-gator.

But with the adoption-gator, we do have to guard our small, precious loved ones with steely resolution. They are there, just under your radar, waiting for you to feel the least bit insecure about your single pregnancy, or taking a break from a day of housework or just looking for information. They swallow infants and toddlers whole and then smile at you and belch.

Guard your precious cargo, mothers, Remember that the log by the shore could be a vicious carnivore.

Just When You Think It Can't Get Any Worse...

It gets better! We picked my friend up from the hospital, yesterday and she is slumbering away on our handy-dandy airbed. She doesn't have to go back to the doctor, here, so she will be headed for Dublin, with special accommodations, tomorrow afternoon.

She will still need tests and follow-ups when she gets home, but this was very good news. We have new reason to hope for the best.

Then, as I was making supper, I received one of those ever-so-rare phone calls from my son, lost to adoption in 1963, asking me how I felt about being a mother-in-law to a woman of 55 and I told him that, if she made him happy, that was all that was important. He said, "I love you, MAMA," when we said good-bye. Up till now, he has called me "Ma" and the closest he came to declaring his feelings was "love ya." Then, right after supper, my oldest daughter, lost to adoption in 1962, called. Hers was not so upbeat as she has Lupus and was not having a good day and has issues with her brother, but, at least, she told me she just needed to hear my voice.

On to the other bad thing....the insurance adjuster will be out to the body shop to evaluate the claim and it looks pretty good. Our insurance is paying for a nifty little Kia Rondo, which drives like a dream, while my "Pansy PT" (I name my cars) is being repaired. I can go sign an agreement with the clerk of court which will allow me to take online traffic school and get some $$$ knocked off my fine and no points assessed against my license. Our insurance will probably go up, but such is life. It will cost us a co-pay but we will survive.

Hubby's leg is better and he is back to work, trying to do some damage control, as well, to our 401K. Looks like we are going to roll it all over into our IRA before it can get any worse. Bush Economics is a disaster!

Other than the fact that adoption still sucks and we have a lot of work to do to expose that hideous industry for what it is, nothing that happened was the worst that could happen. We've been through that and survived. Maybe this was a message to slow my butt down and smell some more roses. I do know that, between my husband, ALL my children and my lovely sister moms (a few of them are really special), my life isn't too bad at all.

So, I'm putting my teeth back in and having a muffin. Then I am going out and finding some gators from my friend to photograph. We tried for three days and came up with bupkiss. I think they know I am looking for them. They remind me of adoption facilitators.

I'll Have Some Cheese With My Whine

My hubby took this picture of my toothless scream and it was too good not to share. Bear with me, dear reader, because it has been one of those weeks.

Just one day into my lovely visit with my Irish guest, or, as I have dubbed her, The Dublin Tornado, Hubby comes down with an inflamed tendon in his leg which kept him out of work for a week.

As the week progressed, I noticed my lovely lass getting droopy, tired and peckish with her food. I finally went to her motel room on Wednesday to find her delirious, feverish and miserable. We got her in to see our MD and he sent us straight to the hospital where she sits, today, under the care of the pulmonologist for a bad, bad infection. We hope to bring her here (home) on Sunday, get her to her pulmonologist appointment on Tuesday and on a plane to Dublin by Thursday. Poor baby....thousands of miles away from home and terribly sick.

Yesterday, I headed out in my Christmas Present PT Cruiser (she is periwinkle and I have named her "Pansy") to take my friend some of her comfies and other necessities and visit for a bit. On the way home, I reached up to lower the sun visor because the sun was in my eyes and proceeded to plow into the rear of a large, Jeep SUV. The final score..PT to the body shop...Jeep not even scratched. I also got a ticket since, even though this was a chain reaction started by a woman suddenly stopping and turning without giving a signal, I was the only one who couldn't stop in time....$140.00.

Now my grandmother always told me that troubles came in sets of three. You'd think that would be enough, but then there is the usual natter and pinch on the online groups and good people having to defend their turf. It makes me want to put my teeth in and bite rather than scream.

I had to think in this vein. My friend is getting better, Hubby is doing his exercises and taking his meds, the car can be fixed and my insurance is paying for a nice little rental and I get a few extra days with a really nice Dublin Lass. The loss of my step-son to suicide, the difficulties in my life and the lives of my two oldest due to adoption separation and the fact that I have a grandson in Iraq sort of put all this into proper perspective. And, unlike about ten years ago, we have the wherewithal to pay our deductible. Things could be a helluva lot worse. Add to that that the online LADIES (as opposed to those that aren't) are holding their own and it becomes a better day.

Tonight, I will have my wine AND cheese. I have had a lovely whine!

We All Grow And Learn (If We're Lucky)

School Days

It is really funny that I have seen an aspect of the former me that I didn't like very much. When I became involved in activism, I was all over the support groups like the Union troops on Atlanta. It didn't occur to me, with my tunnel vision going full blast, that there were mothers in need of support and not ready to take up the sword of activism. I learned, soon enough, and take care, now, not to cross over that line. It takes a lot of healing...years in many cases...for some moms to get to the activist stage, if at all, and that has to be OK.

Each mother heals at her own rate and IN HER OWN WAY, (I can't reiterate that enough) and if and when she gets to the stage of wanting to be involved in activism, then she can pick and choose for herself. Why is there always someone who thinks they are exempt from the rules of common courtesy? I would advise the activists among us to stay away from the private email lists on support groups with your spiels and self-promotions. There is a better time and a better way to make oneself known that to spam some one's inbox with your views and pet causes.

The Mothers of Adoption Loss are a varied and unique group. We are every woman. We have different politics, religions, social ideals....you name it. What we can do for each other in support groups and friendly retreats is walk our common ground together. We can hold hands, know understanding, and move ahead. What we CAN NOT do is determine, for each other, the path to take. Activism is more effective when the activist is truly ready to act.

As we ARE every woman, some of us, then, are not too nice and have some, shall we say, personality problems? That's all well and good, though, because the majority of mothers have the sense to know a mixer when they meet one. Those that don't, get the picture soon enough.

Although it may sound like I am making war on one person, it is not so much that as it is making war on an egocentric, arrogant attitude. That attitude can drive a skittish mom right back into the closet. I think it helps us to hold out a hand in support well before we offer a place in the battle corps.

I also want to wish the Heart to Heart Retreat in Denver this October all the luck in the world.

Another Season Of Life

I think I am still on a bit of a tear about being judged, along with my sister mothers, of having had inadequate "healing." I assume that the person who made this judgment thinks that we would not be seeking justice and redress if we were "properly healed." As a friend of mine from the UK would say, "Bollocks!"

Rather than looking at the one dimension of the Internet exchanges, perhaps that person who would underestimate our emotional health and mental acuity should see us as we are in every way. We are in the Autumn of our lives, for the most part. The leaves still cling to the branches and are afire with color. We are strong, fearless and finally able to say and do what we feel is right rather than worrying about what others might think. It's a good time to be alive.

If anything, our shared experience of shame, blame, isolation and grief should have imparted a special measure of wisdom to each of us. For many of us, we have learned the value of being humble enough to realize that, even after all we have experienced, we still don't know everything. There is wisdom just in that realization. We are learning more, every day that passes. Perhaps the lesson of humility is wasted on any self-proclaimed and self-promoting "expert." Being able to apologize or admit to a wrong is mature and wise and the right kind of "humble."

SMAAC is entering the fray with all the fire of maple leaves in October. We might not have framed certificates on all our walls or letters after all our names, but we have the accumulated wisdom of many women and the gathered passion of our cause and determination. It would be a grave error to count us as ineffective or "less healed than thou."

I come from the early years of the EMS and I have shared the past week with someone who comes from the end of that era. We are 15 years apart in age but very close in our personae. Coming from different cultures, we have shared much of what makes up our everyday lives. We have laughed at our similarities and our differences. But we have one thing in common and that is the desire to be heard and to be acknowledged. There is also the desire to hear the words, "We are sorry for what we did to you," said out loud and in public. I see nothing inherently, emotionally unhealthy in any of that. Someone needs to take a "time out" and reconsider their attitude.

We'd hate to do battle with former allies, but we will and will not hesitate for an instant. Got that?

Healing Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

It annoys me when someone assumes that all we are about is what is read on message boards and blogs, even this one. It annoys me even more, when someone assumes that we are bitter, angry, dangerous to other mothers and in need of "healing work." That is an arrogant and insulting accusation. And to deny a mother the company of other mothers who can give her support on her healing journey just because that support group has found their healing in other ways but the way of the denier is somewhat egocentric and a bit off-kilter, emotionally.

There are numerous experts in every aspect of life, it seems. There is always someone who knows exactly what YOU need to heal. As a mother of adoption loss, I have used IN PERSON counseling, the 12-step program and, most of all, the support provided by groups for mothers like me. We mirror each other in these groups and are honest with each other. You'd be surprised how many of us have attained a healthy, balanced life without any help from the "experts" who proclaim that it must be done their way or no way. I follow the 12-step premise when reading any books or hearing any advice to "take what I need and leave the rest."

The Internet is, at best, a tenuous arena for real psychological counseling. I'll get my support and information on line, but I will have any intense counseling in person, thank you. But it is a great place for the coming together of people with shared experiences. Let me tell you that among "those women who haven't done their healing work," a mother of adoption loss can find a lot of understanding. We all share what has worked for us to keep our lives in balance and many, many women have been helped by these groups and the one I belong to, in particular. First Mothers Connect which is for mothers who lost to adoption during the EMS/BSE is a gold mine of friendship and support.

There are factions and friction among many who are involved in the battleground that is adoption loss. People are individuals so that may be the way it is for a long time. But to summarily dismiss groups such as FMC as having no value because they have not walked in the path of the "expert," is something that calls for an apology. We all have our "off days," so I am hoping this was one of those days for the person who maligned us and our group.

I am ever so proud to be one of "those women." We rock!

Hands Across The Ocean

I have a guest this week. She arrived on Thursday evening and was everything I thought she might be from the emails and IM's we have exchanged over the years. There was this tall, red-haired, green-eyed tornado with a mist in her eyes and her arms opened for a hug. It was magical but then, I think that the Irish are touched with the mystic.

She has a deep, contagious belly-laugh and is full of a love of adventure and socializing. She lost her only daughter, her only child, to adoption in the same way we lost our children here in the US...through being broken down, coerced and made to feel unfit. She confided in me that, though her mother never came around, her father did apologize for his part in her loss. They are both deceased.

We shopped the local mall, yesterday and, still suffering from jet-lag, she ate supper with us, then went to her motel for more sleep. We have plans to see Sea World, NASA and more shopping. She will be leaving this coming Thursday, noon. I will miss having her around.

There is such a commonality in our situations, no matter what part of the world you inhabit. For a "forever adoptive family" to be formed, a mother must be broken and pushed against the wall. Those who want that baby, the Social Workers and agencies, must latch on to that mother at her most vulnerable and begin their art of "gentle" persuasion. Usually, by the time they are through, the mother's self-esteem is so low she feels like she could sit on the edge of a piece of toilet paper and danger her legs over the edge.

Those of us who have sought healing and rebuilding of our self-worth have had a mighty battle on our hands. We have had to fly in the face of popular mythology and make our way without the understanding of many of our loved ones. Only with other mothers have we found the understanding that we need in order to see through the fog and find our real selves, again. My Irish friend has fought the same battle and I love the person she is. There is no pretense or guile in her...just the real person, battle scars and all.

Yesterday morning, we watched a DVD of the Australian documentary, "Gone To A Good Home." My guest was so upset, she had to take meds for her stomach which acts up under stress. There we were, an American and an Irish Woman, watching what had happened to some lovely Australian women and it was as if we were holding hands around the world. We both flinched when we heard the words "slut" and "immoral" bandied about. We knew how it felt to be branded in that manner.

She will carry on the fight in the Republic of Ireland. She has a group there that is active. We will carry on in the US and hope to achieve the level of success that has been reached in Australia. Whether anyone else thinks it will do any good or make any difference, we Senior Mothers deserve to hear the words, "We're Sorry For What Was Done To You," from those who perpetrated and carry on the industry of eugenics and baby-peddling. We deserve to see the industry under public scrutiny before we die. We are aging and this is priority stuff we are talking about. In the long run, it matters not what anyone else thinks we will or will not accomplish. We have earned this and we will fight for it.

Whether we are in Ireland or America or anywhere else on this globe where infants are seen as a commodity, there is a battle to be waged. I think it is going to happen. People are starting to listen and those who adopt and the agencies and attorneys that facilitate adoption are starting to sound a little belligerent when they try to answer our questions.

Sounds like fear to me.

Strange and Mournful Day Has A New Look

About two years ago, facing the annual twisting of the knife that is National Adoption Awareness Month (November), I and another EMS/BSE mother, Kitz, came up with two really good ideas, if I do say so myself. And, with the self-promotion going on in some adoption circles, this is mild by comparison. *wink, nudge

I came up with the idea for National Strange and Mournful Day (*TM) (you can check it out in my archives for 2006 around that time of the year) to be observed on the 30th of November, and Kitz came up with calling November "National Adoption BEwareness Day." All in all, not bad for a couple of middle-age broads with stories to tell.

I based Strange and Mournful Day on lyrics from Paul Simon's "Mother and Child Reunion." However it is lyrics within the body of the song that resonated rather that the issue of reunion, which is separate from the indignities and mistreatment that led to the surrender of our newborns.

Here is the song and I have high-lighted, in red, the parts that touched me where my experience is concerned.

Mother and Child Reunion

Words & music by Paul Simon

No I would not give you false hope,

On this strange and mournful day.

But the mother and child reu-nion

Is only a motion away,

Oh, little darling of mine.I can't for the life of me,

Remember a sadder day.

I know they say let it be,

But it just don't work out that way,

And the course of a lifetime runs,

Over and over again.

No I would not give you false hope,

On this strange and mournful day

But the mother and child reu-nion

Is only a motion away,

Oh, little darling of mine.I just can't believe it's so,

And though it seems strange to say,

I've never been laid so low,

In such a mysterious way,

And the course of a lifetime runs,

Over and over again.

But I would not give you false hope,

On this strange and mournful day,

When the mother and child reu-nion

Is only a motion away,

Oh, oh the mother and child reunion

Is only a motion away,

Oh the mother and child reu-nion

Is only a moment away.

This year, SMAAC will be observing National Adoption Bewareness Month and National Strange and Mournful Day, as an organization. We will be wearing our ribbons, black for grief and the darkness of the Era of Mass Surrenders, red for passion, anger and determination, and white for hope. Many of us will also attach our ribbon badges with a stud earring that is our lost infant's birthstone. When we have completed a ribbon, I'll show it on this blog so that any EMS/BSE moms who want to copy it and wear it, can do so.

The website for SMAAC is coming along and will be open for business, very soon. It is almost poetic that this should happen so close to, what I have started calling, "Black November." National Adoption Awareness Month is about as painful for us as that stupid "Birth-martyrs Day" thing that is observed on the Saturday before Mother's Day. The fact that the entire nation is expected to observe, as a good thing, our tragedies is proof of the arrogance of the industry and its proponents.

Very few people want to know how we were punished for our non-crime of fertility. I hear, still, the spiteful, nasty, hateful and judgmental person, usually a man, saying, "you didn't have to spread your legs." No, I guess we didn't, but the picture of us as a bunch of teen nymphomaniacs is erroneous and unfair. Most of us were in monogamous relationships. Some of us were raped. How many of you made it to your marriage bed with your virginity intact? Hmmmm?

It might not be comfortable for Mr. and Mrs. EMS-Era Adopter to acknowledge the fact that we were misjudged, misused and coerced, but it will soon be made more widespread public knowledge, so someone is just going to have to suck it up and realize that they raised children who were very much wanted by their real mothers.

I hope to see a lot of ribbons being worn, proudly, by mothers of adoption loss this coming November. The more people that ask us what the ribbons mean, the more the truth will be heard.

Sticks and Stones...Martyrs and Saints

While I have made it a policy not to engage in debate or arguments in the comment section of my blog, I do read all comments. Each one of us handles these things in the way that is best for them. For me, it is best to delete and refuse to get caught up in the back and forth that usually goes nowhere because neither party is going to change his or her mind on the subject. However, some just beg to be answered in kind.

On my last post, I was honored with being the target of sticks and stones thrown by a "saint" (adopter) and a "martyr" or, as I have decided to dub these wannabe heroines, "birth-martyrs." I guess we could also call them the thanker and the thankee. It makes me wonder what the "gift" thinks of the whole thing, down deep where the saintly adopter and the birth-martyr can't penetrate.

To the birth-martyr who thinks she did such a wonderful thing; Well, aren't YOU special? If this is how you cope, how you manage to deal with that hole in your heart, then rock on with your bad self. But watch out because the river of De-Nial is full of crocodiles and hippos, oh my!

To the saintly adopter who questions my "inner strength"; My goodness, Ms. Thing, I had no idea that engaging in name-calling, written brawls was an indicator of inner strength. You know what I think inner strength is? No? Well, I'm going to tell you, anyway. Inner strength is carrying on a life and trying to make it a good one when parts of your soul have been ripped from you. Inner strength is refusing to keep a toxic secret and standing up, in public, for what you believe to be true and right, even when...no, make that especially when it is a somewhat unpopular stance.

Inner strength is finding your worth within yourself, rather than in your "heroic deed" (adopting) or your "brave sacrifice" (being a birth-martyr). It is realizing that no other person on earth can make you feel what you don't want to feel about yourself or your life or your ideals. Inner strength is standing fast and taking the responsibility of raising your own child, no matter how much resistance you get to that idea from either family or those that would profit by your surrender. Mothers of today have choices that we didn't during the EMS.

I got a phone call the other night from a dear, smart, adopted adult friend who is wanting to try to change things. She had been contacted by a mother who surrendered here in Florida and, after the 24-hour rescinding period was up, realized that she had done herself and her child a disservice. The problem is that all I can offer her is support and the truth....that she has been thoroughly screwed. I know the adoption broker that "helped" her out of her child and he is a sly fox of a baby-seller. She needs a lot of emotional support because it isn't going to stop hurting or even stop hurting less anytime soon.

We Senior Mothers have posted ourselves blue in the face, trying to tell these newer moms just how painful it is for both us and our children. I have seen pre-verbal grief in a newly adopted infant and I know she was in deep distress. The time to act is before these coercers in sheep's clothing get hold of you. DON'T SIGN ANYTHING! Your child will thank you. My adult daughter actually thanked me for not wanting to surrender her.

Otherwise, you'll get your thanks from the saints (adopters) for being such a good little birth-martyr. You can buy the advertising and drink the Kool Ade or you can call a halt and keep your child. Oh, and my "anger bubble" hasn't burst. Since that anger is only one part of my life, it stays pretty much intact because it is a new, improved RIGHTEOUS and well-directed anger bubble.

Mr. and Mrs. Saint, you guys could help keep a little family together rather than love-bombing some poor putz of a kid who is brainwashed into thinking she will always be your best buddy and her child will just be in your care but not really yours.

If you were to thank me for surrendering my children, you'd not be happy with the reply.

Since When Is A Human Baby A GIFT??

I think one of the most insulting and inane things that has ever been said to me has to be when an adopter tried to THANK ME for the "gift" of my children to the women who adopted them. Hearing my children referred to as "gifts," especially since I was coerced into surrendering them, was appalling. Yet, I have heard that sentiment over and over again, ad infinitum, ad nauseum, especially from the senior adopters who raised the children we Senior Mothers surrendered during the EMS.

I don't know where this vapid, specious, condescending idea got started, but I know that I don't like it. During the first few days of my reunion with my oldest daughter, who searched for me, I was told by the woman who adopted her, "Thank you for ****. Now this reunion nonsense must cease!" THANK YOU, now go away??? That's sort of a really good summary of what those who adopt expect from us Mothers of adoption loss. We are selfless heroines when we surrender, then we are lepers.

They wanted to believe we wanted to give them our children and then they hoped we would die, disappear or crawl in a hole and hide. In fact, at one point, my daughter's adopters told her I was dead. The phenomena of search and reunion has caused some really nasty responses from the people who adopted our children. Some of our adult children were put on guilt trips worthy of every Jewish mother cliche'. Others were given ultimatums and still others just didn't want to be told about it. For many Mothers, we became our children's' dirty, little secrets..something they couldn't share with the people who supposedly loved them unconditionally and only wanted the best for them. I saw a lot of conditional love when I reunited. I saw even more of it when I started talking to my sister Moms and we got to the subject of adopters and their reactions to reunion.

I can understand that the woman who adopted my daughter was filled with fear and that is why she reacted the way she did. It doesn't excuse it, but it explains it. The reason she had that fear was because, she, as a women, knew in her heart that I loved my daughter and would pursue a relationship with her. I had given my daughter some things the adopter couldn't....life, roots, a heritage. And, being from that era, she also knew how we were treated by our families and society and that we did not go willingly to surrender. It might have only been on a sub-conscious level, but she knew.

If I could give any adopter advice that they would actually hear, the first thing I would tell them would be, please don't say "Thank You" to your adoptee's mother. A gift is a check or a nice candle or a gourmet basket...not a human being. That child you are raising or have raised is neither a "gift" nor a "bequest" nor something to which you were entitled by virtue of your desire for a child. To obtain that child, a mother had to be broken, diminished and desperate, with no other choice than to surrender. After what I went through in the early 60's, "Thank You and get lost" is not only an insult, it's a disgusting display of arrogance. It would be better to say, "I am sorry that our joy was your tragedy." At least it would be accurate.

The restrained compassion and "attempts to understand" and descriptions of the love and care they have given the adoptee is, I still firmly believe, a need to justify taking our children and wanting our (and this really blows my mind) approval! They want us to see them as Mothers! This is where my grandmother would say, "want in one hand and sh** in the other and see which one fills up first." Then, of course, failing to gain the big okay from us, we get the other thing...you know, the crackwhore mom thing? That is equally funny because there was no crack in our era. Heck, where I came from, drinking a beer was daring. Those few, pitiful addicts are in the minority, but to hear adopters tell it, you would think that the country was filled to the brim with druggie moms.

There is also the misunderstanding that we came from the careless era of "free love," were flower children and danced naked among the marijuana fumes. Again, most of us were just typical, middle-America, middle class teens and young women who had never seen pot, much less indulged (for me, that came later..self medication for grief). Now does that sound like someone who would think to themselves, "I think I will have sex, get pregnant and give some more worthy couple the gift of a child?" The entire premise is past ridiculous.

I do agree that a baby is a gift from God/dess.....to the woman who gives birth to that baby. A human being is a gift that the Almighty can bestow on a human woman. But one woman cannot bestow a gift of a child to another unless she is very, very weird. No woman that I know is so altruistic that she would "donate" her child to another woman like an item for a charity auction. The Senior Mothers with whom I associate are all in agreement. We did not GIVE our children to anyone. We surrendered out of pure helplessness and hopelessness and with our backs to the wall.

We wanted our babies.

No, Dear God, No!!!!

They might as well have done this to us. The mental and emotional torture that was meted out to the Senior Mother during the EMS was no less painful than having one's feet roasted over an open fire. This was what we have been talking about. We were called "sexually deviant and delinquent" and deemed unfit to mother our children without even being given a fair opportunity to do so. Even if we had, as in my case, only one partner in a loving relationship, we were judged to be "promiscuous."

We can laugh at this picture and call it archaic ignorance, but where has this nation been heading for the past eight years or so? Entities like the, so-called, "Moral Majority," the Evangelical Christian Right Wing and others are turning the US into a hotbed of near-medieval attitudes and actions. The word "reactionary" doesn't even begin to cover it. Every bit of social progress that has been made, especially in the era of women's reproductive, social and career autonomy is being chipped away at by the self-righteous right wing, ie., the Grand Old Party.

We got a good look at the Republican platform this past week, and what I see gives me shivers. If the McCain/Palin team makes it to the White House, we Senior Moms might as well try spitting in the wind. How can any party that proposes to increase adoptions, restore the institution of the maternity home and do away with our right to choose our own reproductive lives be expected to listen to us and our message? These people are dangerous!! NARAL is sending out the word and well they should, that we need to work to defeat this candidate of the GOP in every way we can.

I really wish I had millions of dollars to pour into the coffers of the Democrats. Let's face it. Only one minority can understand the oppression of another. That is why I think Joe Lieberman should be horse-whipped. We have some pertinent information, demands and questions for our national leaders. I do not believe that, should McCain be elected, we would ever get the chance to be heard. We are getting on in years and we don't have another 4 to 8 years to waste, waiting for a better atmosphere in which to air our grievances.

Barack Obama isn't perfectly attuned to our frequency, but he comes a lot closer than his counterpart. Eight years ago, I semi-threatened to leave the country if Bush won. Thanks to some fancy dancing down here in Florida and a loaded Supreme Court, he won and I had to eat my words because we, my hubby and I, have no where else to go. We can't afford Sweden or the Netherlands and Belize is too hot for me. Canada is having some of the same struggles, so what is left to us?

Another few years in Iraq and we will have buried a lot of our children and grandchildren. The discarding of Roe v Wade will put a lot of young women in harm's way and cause even more tragedies like the ones that millions of girls experienced during the EMS. And we only have to look at Palin's daughter to see how much good "Abstinence Only" does. At least she is getting the support and love of her family. We were denied that when it happened to us and we didn't have the option of going to the local health department and obtaining birth control. Neither did we have the option of keeping and raising our children and that is the direction in which we are turning if it isn't stopped dead with a solid defeat of the Republican candidates and platform.

This isn't my old anger speaking, but my fears for the futures of my granddaughter and great-granddaughter. This isn't a biased view from a Democratic Party "faithful." (I did, once, vote for a Rep. candidate.) This is the view of eyes that have seen the world change, significantly, and not always for the better, over 6 decades and what I see worries me. People, we can't let it happen again. The "good old days" weren't all that good. For every "Leave It To Beaver," there was a "Peyton Place."

We must retain our freedoms and choices. We must end the slaughter of our military and civilians in the Middle East. We must keep the church and our government separated. We must defeat John McCain in November. Obama and Biden in 2008!!!

Nightmares, Sound and Fury

I still keep hearing the words of the adopter who was in my water aerobics class when she commented on reunion between the (her) adopted person and the natural mother. She described it as "her worst nightmare."

When my daughter told the woman who adopted her that she had found me, she said, "We were told this would be impossible." We went on to find out that she and her husband, who were cronys with some southern politicos, did all in their power to make sure that it wouldn't happen. They illegally sealed my records of my daughter's birth and surrender. When I inquired of the SC DSS about non-identifying records on my daughter, I was told there were no such records. Yet, a couple of years later, when non-id was made legally available, my daughter got the works and found me, quickly. I was the one who was barred from obtaining any information.

Women who adopt seem to know that we are not lined up like eager applicants, just dying to surrender our children. Deep inside, they realize it was an act of surrender and desperation and not the noble sacrifice myth they try to keep going. They know we would give our right arms to have those children with us again. The fact that there might be more than mere curiosity on the part of the adoptee frightens them and the love we still hold for our children scares the spit out of them. It's a fact that they either try to keep the adoptee from searching or try to run the reunion or, as in the case of one particular adopter, covers her face whenever they drop one mother's son off to visit.

Another adopter disrupted her over-21-aged adoptee's reunion with her mother by calling the police and reporting the mother for KIDNAPPING. If these examples don't show that adoption with the "as if born to" mind-set, done to give a home/couple a baby rather than an infant a home is a broken and skewed institution, there are many more such stories that can be told. These women who feel that they are entitled to a child, don't really know the full ramifications of raising a child they did not bear. There is a bond that they can twist and mangle but they can't break it.

You hear them exclaim, "I was the one who sat up with him/her when they were sick, changed the diapers, drove them to soccer, etc., etc., ad nauseum. I, and many other mothers of adoption loss, would have been overjoyed to wipe those bottoms and stay up until midnight helping put together a science project that is due the next day. If caring for a child makes one a mother, then there are a lot of nannies and baby nurses out there that can claim motherhood.

I get comment after comment, from adopters, mostly, who extol the "beauty" of adoption because they don't want to see the painful underbelly of this "institution." I also get descriptions of slatternly crackwhores from whom these saintly people rescued a child. Funny...out of all the natural mothers I know, and they number in the thousands, now, I don't know of any who were involved in drug abuse or other dangerous behavior at the time they became pregnant with their lost child. There are a few who self-medicated after the fact in order to deal with the pain. I can't blame them. My drug of choice was excess food.

Ladies Who Have Adopted or Who Want To Adopt, please understand something. You are going to do what you want to BUT we are not going to endorse it. It's almost, in your protests to us, that you are asking for our blessing. That is not going to happen. Coercion, either overt or subtle, social attitudes that condemn a single and/or poor pregnant women and laws to insure that these mothers won't have a leg to stand on when they realize they were conned, is not Kosher and never will be. There is no way to justify the majority of adoptions, especially infant adoptions. If that is the only way you can aspire to motherhood, don't you think it might be time to re-think things?

The reunion between the adoptee and the mother may be YOUR worse nightmare. But please remember, we have already lived OUR worst nightmare. We lost our children for no good reason and we were not even allowed to mourn. The pain IS nightmarish.

So, with hope for mothers and their children to reconnect and with only realistic thinking on my part, let me say that I wish for all your nightmares to come true.

Turncoat Of The Day

Not since the late, unlamented Strom Thrumond did his Democrat to Dixiecrat to Republican fancy dance has there been such a switcheroo. Joe Lieberman is exhorting Democrats to cross the party line and vote for McCain. Now there's a picture....a Jewish person from a former losing team not wanting his party members to vote for a mixed-race/African American. It's politics and sour grapes and loser takes nothing as usual. I wonder if he wants McCain to boot Palin and choose him as a running mate? Hmmmm

In any event, I would urge my brother and sister Dems to listen with care to "pouty Joe." Use your native intelligence and realize that this is racism and snitty politics if ever there was any and there is plenty in the old US of A. It's almost enough to start one thinking that anarchy might not be so bad.

As a Senior Mother, I have to investigate and decide what is in the best interests of me, my sisters and their goals. As a life-long Democrat, I have to investigate and make sure that the platform is still in line with most of my thinking. I do know that Democrats tend to be more flexible and willing to listen. No, the Democratic platform is not 100% in line with my thinking, but the Republican platform doesn't even make it to 45%. So you go with the numbers that add up for you. In my case, it's "Sorry Joe, but I won't go."

This is turning out to be either the most historical presidential race in our history and/or, with comedians like Leiberman, the family angst of Gov. Palin and other side notes like the desperate rush by Hillary's contingent to muffle Bill, and the attempts to smooth Mrs. Obama's rough edges, the most hysterically funny. Hey, you have to laugh to keep from crying.

I find it very interesting that Palin's daughter gets to keep her child/ren(?) and is graciously forgiven for her "mistake" when every other young woman who is pregnant and single and/or poor is seen as a lamb for the adoption slaughter. Can anyone tell me what is wrong with this picture? Oh well, that is another blog.

On that note, I would love to direct everyone to Musing Mother and her passionate blog from yesterday. It was terrific and said so much of what I feel. It's a great relief from politics and people talking out of both sides of their mouths. Truth is refreshing, these days.

It isn't even November and I am already tired of the trash talk.

Vagina Voters, Beware These People!

(*Squealing, creaky door and loud scream.....)

Well, here is the nightmare team for the GOP; An adopter and an evangelical. This is a combination that is guaranteed to do all in their power to deny women the right to determine our own reproductive lives and control over our own bodies.

With all the rumors being spread across the Internet about whether or not that little boy, that Palin claims, is hers or her daughter's, there are some serious questions that need honest answers. Add to that the fact that her daughter is pregnant (many believe for the second time) and there is no attempt, so far, in the direction of adoption surrender, makes me wonder about a lot of things.

Is it, for instance, only those of us without political/social/financial connections that should surrender our children for adoption? Is it OK to condemn Jamie Spears but not the Governor's daughter? And what about this assumed, shotgun engagement to the high school hockey jock who calls himself a "f***ing redneck," who "kicks ass" and "don't want kids." Something is truly skewed here. I know that the LAST thing we need in this country's executive branch is an evangelical Christian with the agenda of the radical right wing, who thinks they have the ear of God Almighty, in her apron pocket. Shades of Phyllis Schlafly!!

Oh, and she speaks of her daughter's "mistake." It seems some things never change because it wasn't her having sex that was indicated as the "mistake," but the fact that she got pregnant. Does this ring any bells with my senior sisters? The entire attitude leads me to believe that, as young people, we could have screwed like bunnies as long as it didn't show up in a baby bump. Same attitude, present day......

The Republican party, or as I call them, Enemies of Mothers who Keep (EMK's), is trying to attract the disgruntled "vagina voter" (Thank you, Chris. I love that term.) who are all peeved that Hillary didn't get the nomination. Hey guys, I was a Hillary supporter, too, but I'll be damned if I will vote with my genitals, just because McCain picked a woman for a running mate. If worse came to worse and some bigot decides to take a whack at Obama, I would rather have Biden filling the gap than cuddly, little Palin. Things in the Alaska Governor's mansion are smelling fishy, anyway.

Remember, this is the party that would have maternity "homes" in every town and would push domestic infant adoption like a drug dealer pushes crack. Add to that what I know, personally, about the Fundies and their agenda, and the option of any kind of choice for a female goes down the tubes. Yes, there are still those women who might still opt for no termination and ultimate surrender, but there needs to be protection on the books for the majority who want to make up their own minds without pressure from the "more moral than thou" contingent.

As I look out to sea, from the shore of my thoughts, towards a roiling ocean that is the Republican machinations taking place, I feel like the old world map-maker who wrote, in areas of the deep ocean, "Here be monsters." I can see the Kraken, with its one great eye, waving its "elephantine" tentacles and licking its beak. I didn't trust them eight years ago, I don't trust them now, and I doubt if I ever will. There is also the distinct probability that, should they be elected, what is, now, a really giant undertaking for SMAAC will become an unbelievably difficult struggle and that is to have our stories heard and addressed by our national government. I'm not saying that there are not adoption proponents on both sides of the Congressional aisle, but experience tells me that we stand a better chance with the Dems than with the EMK's.

I am a firm believer that the direction in which this election goes will make the difference between the rights of women being retained or lost. I am bombarding the Obama camp with letters about our reproductive rights and the EMS and the issues of the Senior mothers.

I call it "As The Wheel Squeaks." Join me.

Insanity and The Ruination of Organizations

Albert Einstein made an observation that has been, since, quoted a lot in the 12-step programs. He defined insanity in this manner. “Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

This is one of my favorite quotes and one that I have used to remind myself of how useless old, destructive thoughts and behaviors can be and how little control I have over the actions of others. I am now watching some major organizations losing their credibility, memberships and effectiveness by doing the same thing, over and over again. Organizations that began as activist and support groups for mothers of loss have diluted themselves by weakening their messages and involving adopters and adoptees.

Adopters are in the cat-bird seat, socially and really don't need much in the way of input from those of us who don't particularly like what they did. Adoptees have BN and their own efforts for their own causes. So why take a perfectly good organizational premise, devoted to the natural mothers of adoption loss, and dilute it into just another "Triad" (*there is no such thing) group?

We wonder why so many of the millions of mothers of the Era of Mass Surrender are still in the closet. I can see them being easily confused since there is no one taking the stance that the shame that keeps them silent is bogus! It takes a while to get out of that morass of shame and blame and having self-entitled adopters who say they are for "reform" and angry adoptees bombarding them with their issues is not going to help that mother emerge from her cocoon of secrecy.

There are millions of adopted people out there, but I am mother to only two of them. The rest of them are not my responsibility, so this business of "always putting the adoptee's needs first" is guilt speaking and we don't need that guilt nor do we deserve it. We were coerced and we were also victims and were hurt just as much as the adopted person. We make our own way through our own reunions and reunion is not activism. With reunion, you need a support group. With activism, you need an activism group.

I would advise mothers, especially from our generation, who are new to this to find a MOTHERS ONLY support group, and, when they are ready, really look at at the activism groups and see what kind of membership they have. Only Senior mothers are going to work for the issues of Senior mothers and any other groups that tries to be all things to all people is going to, basically, kick us and our issues to the curb.

Hey, that scarlet letter is unearned. You don't have to hide, you don't have to feel shame and you don't have to carry that burden alone. You'd be amazed how liberating it is to throw off the chains that were put there by our parents and social workers, nuns, etc. We are not the perpetrators, here. The industry and the demand that runs that industry are the ones at fault. Reproductive autonomy and freedom for women should have always included the right to birth control, sex education, safe, legal terminations and the right to raise one's own child regardless of marital status, age or financial status. You have nothing of which to be ashamed. But the powers that were and that industry and those that punished us so severely for our non-crime do have a hell of a lot to answer and address.

That's what we are about. If you need to know more, contact us. We are here to help you find your way into the open air. It's nice out here.

Come out and be with friends.