Facing my own demons

adoption, adoption loss, life,

My “normal” family

I grew up in what started out to be a typical home. I was born, the youngest of four,(which I think was about an average size family for that time) in 1964. My Dad work all the time, being a long distant truck driver meant we sometimes didn't see him for days. My mom, was a house wife. That was it. Simple. There was no politically correct women around saying oh, don't call her a house wife. That was just what she was. It was all perfectly normal. When meeting a woman back then, I imagine there were two questions asked. "Are you married?" yes. "Do you have kids?" yes. And there was no reason to ask any other questions because women who were married w/kids stayed home.

And for all accounts that I've been given, my mother was good at her role. She played with her kids, taught her kids, made home made clothes for her kids that would put professional designers to shame. She took care of the house and all the finances while Dad drove his truck to the next city, state, where ever the money lead him. It was all so…. Normal. Until one day it wasn't normal any more.

I was the first one in my family to go to kindergarden. It wasn't required before that and frankly our mother taught us more before age 5 than kindergarden taught any 5 year old. I loved Loved Loved kindergarden. It was a time for me, the biggest show off in the world to really shine! While the teachers were teaching the other kids the alphabet song I was dazzling teachers and kids alike with my ability to read Dr Seuss. While they taught the other kids to count to ten, I amazed them by adding 1 + 2. It wasn't that I was some kind of little genius, no far from it. It was just my mother had already taught me all that stuff and them some.  Just as she had taught my brother and two sisters when they were just toddlers. As I said, my mother up to that point had done a wonderful job as wife and mother. Who would have ever guessed that she was so unhappy with that life. Until one day no one had to guess. They knew. They knew because my mother was gone. Just gone. For years and years, I remembered that event in my life wrong. I thought my mother had taken me to kinder garden one day, just like any other day, but never came and picked me up. I remember without any doubt, sitting on the steps of the church/school with my teacher waiting and we were the only two people left. But that must have been a different day. Because my sister told me that I wasn't in school the day mom left, (it must have been a weekend) and that she (mom) took us to stay at our grandmother's house. K, my sister, instinctively knew something wasn't quite right and, as she describes it, "threw a fit" and said she wasn't going to granny's. But in the end, mom won. Hey, back then if Mom said something, it was so. And that was the last time we saw her for many many years.  

Later, much much later, I learned that my mother had a "boyfriend" and she went to live with him. She gave my dad full custody of me and my sister (my other sister and brother were over 18 by this time) and didn't even want visitation rights. I felt rejected and unworthy of love for all of the rest of my childhood and much of my adulthood. Even though I reunited with my mother when I was 17, only to be rejected by her again. (Which is a whole other story.)

Now, I've asked myself many many times, after what was done to me. (Not the "my mom left me part" but the psychological damage part.) How could I grow up and have babies and loose them. How could I do to them what I always felt my mother did to me. The situation was so totally different. I felt I was given no choice at all. I did not give up my children for a man. I gave them up, because I was told that they would never be with me again and if I didn't sign, they'd live in horror all of their childhood. But still! Why didn't I try to fight for them? How could I not think that some day they would think that I abandon them, just the way my mother abandoned me?

The only answer I have is that truly, history does repeat itself if you don't take the time to learn how to make it stop.

(side note: I have as an adult, Reunioned with my mother and we are: "friends" I love her dearly. She gave me life! How could I not love her for that. As of yet, I do not know why she left me the way she did, but I'm sure that at the time, she had what she thought were compelling reasons. Maybe she felt she had no choice. Maybe someone told her terrible things that could happen if she tried to get custody of me and my sister. I don't know, but I do know these things do happen. They happened to me, they might have happened to her. But I do still wish she would tell me.)


June 10, 2006 - Posted by | life, past


  1. Wow that is a hard thing to live with, losing your mother! I am so sorry you had to live that. I am sure she had compelling reasons, and probably feels terrible about it now, just as you seem to feel about the loss of your children. Pain upon pain…

    But I am glad you have reunion now and a relationship.

    I am so sorry for the loss of your children too. What a heavy burden you have been carrying.

    Comment by cloudscome | June 11, 2006 | Reply

  2. That’s a massive trauma.

    Comment by mskimkim | June 11, 2006 | Reply

  3. Cloudscome, thanks for coming by. I am glad to see you here.

    Comment by sheribat | June 12, 2006 | Reply

  4. Kim, yes, it is, was…. I think sometimes I am past all that now. I think that I am past the resentment the anger, the sadness. But then… it all comes back. And when it does… I wonder if that is how it is for my children.

    Talk about massive trauma! My babies had it! Well, my oldest did, for sure. But that is another entry.

    Comment by sheribat | June 12, 2006 | Reply

  5. Oh Sheri, what a difficult situation to have thrust upon you as such a young child…the abandonment of your mother. I’m really sorry.

    I look forward to reading more to see how the reunion with your mother at age 17 comes to pass.

    Comment by Overwhelmed! | June 25, 2006 | Reply

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