we are everywhere

Saturday, February 25, 2006


I have discovered since my reunion with my son, that I am not the only one. I thought that I was the only mother like me. It has been life saving to find that I am not the only mother who has lost a child to adoption.

I think I would describe myself before my "awakening" as a mother who had the ability to alter my appearance to the environment to ensure my survival. I became, "not really a mother". Legally, I was not a mother. My family, friends, and society viewed me as not a mother. I submerged into deep denial of what had happened to me and to my son and his father. I remained in that frozen state for almost two decades.

However, when my child became of legal age, I contacted the agency. A few years later he also wrote to the agency. Eventually, we began to correspond by letter and phone. Then, I got to "again", meet my adult child. That was one of the best days of my life. Presently, I am about 5 years into reunion with my son.

After I received my first letter from my son which was forwarded to me through the agency, I began to experience extreme emotions. Overwhelming emotions. The social worker who was acting as liaison between my son and me during the letter correspondence phase asked me if I would like to speak to another mother who had been reunited. I don't think she knew how to help me with all my emotions. To her credit, got me in touch with M. who is another mother of adoption loss.

M. and I spoke mid June. I was amazed and grateful that she gave me two whole hours of her time. Not only precious time out of her day, but very deep compassion, love and the understanding possessed only by another mother who has lost a child to adoption. M. was also in reunion with her daughter and from her own reunion I gleaned hope for a chance to see my son.

M. also asked me if I would like to meet with her and another mother in reunion for a lunch in a few weeks. Of course, I said yes.

The strength, hope and experience that M. held out to me on that summer morning through my telephone line illuminated my own little dark closet. I began to discover that I was not the only one.


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