Moving this blog

So I've decided to move this blog to tumblr. All posts will be added to my new tumblr blog.

New Tumblr blog click here

Hope to see you there. I'm so active on tumblr and there is so much to see and blog about.

Foster- Adopt

Fostering a child is purely a selfless act, if you are fostering for the pure reason to help all of these children in need.

So people have added to their families through fostering, which I think is amazing, one of my dear online friends became a mother through fostering. 

But there is one thing that has always bothered me.

The families that enter fostering with Only the intention to adopt, won't take any placements that don't look like adoption is an option, then close their homes once the "mission is completed".

As a teen I wanted to be a foster parent, in my very early 20s (yes I know I'm only 26) I still had this idea in mind, but I realize, I don't have the patience for that. I am not strong enough to watch what these foster parents have to see and hear from these children.

There are soooo many children that just need someone to advocate for them, but it saddens me to know that children are being passed along, because they aren't available for adoption. They need a home throughout the process for their parents trying to get their act together, and yes I know some won't.

To me (and this is just my opinion) fostering is about reunification, its about providing love and stability, its about giving the children a chance to heal as their parents work their plan and better their lives for their children's sake. Sadly, a lot of parents don't work their plans and the child then has to deal with TPR and not having parents, but being a ward of the state.

Although it may bother me that some people may only foster care to children that they can adopt, I get it, a domestic adoption is expensive, and those willing to take on older children and sibling groups, I applaud you, because most children affected by foster care do not go unharmed, they have been removed from their parents, most likely neglected in some form or fashion and even abused.

Parenting a teenager?!

My small view into kinship placement.

At 26 I could have been currently parenting a 14 year old. CRAZY I know! But its true.

Back when I was 18 my then fiance had a very troubled little brother, after being on the a.com forums for so long, I know realize that he was a child with RAD (reactive attachment disorder). He lashed out at his mother, he didn't trust her to keep him safe. There was a lot of abuse coming from her multitude of boyfriends and at 6 he began running off into the woods instead of going to school. Over that summer we volunteered to take him, as he was being to show aggression towards his little sister (age 2 at the time), and at this time we did not know we were expecting. It was easy for me to take him in as I had known the family since little J was 2 1/2. He always attached himself to me, so naturally we had a bond (I know see that at the time, I was the only healthy bond he has ever had with a female caregiver)
He stayed with us over the entire summer. I was a little nervous because I honestly didn't know if he was going to have a melt down and start attacking me in the home. But I still fondly remember that summer. D and I arranged our schedules so that one of us was always home with him.

 I noticed when telling J "no" that you had to explain WHY he wasn't allowed to do something, He needed to know why and I was patient and always explained. 7 AM "Nicole can I have some ice cream?" my response would always have to be something along the lines of  "No, not for breakfast, but, if you help me straighten up the living room later, you may have ice cream after lunch"

Follow through was a big thing too.If I told him that we were going to do something, and we didn't, it caused an issue.

Around came the school year and we asked his mom to sign over temp guardianship so that we could enroll him in school. She flipped out and came to pick him up. That's when I saw his first blow out, he curled up into my lap and cried, but when she grabbed him, he went wild. He began to kick and scream and cry, his nose began to bleed and he started spitting blood into his mother's face. He bit her and scratched her as she tried to wrestle him into the car. All I could do was try to pull her off of him and calm him down. She called the police and then dropped him at the psychiatric ward of the local hospital.

Needless to say about 2 months into the school year DFCS picked up both of her children. At that time we found out we were expecting and couldn't battle for custody again. Sadly J was in foster care until he was 12, from home to home, always attacking the female care givers after the honeymoon period ended. They finally put him in a group home, over the years they would not let me go to the family visits as I was not legally family. He was upset with me for a while but I sent a notebook and re-stamped envelops so that he could write me.

I can say that J is not with his older sister. He has an IEP plan and he has ALL A'S!!!! He's taller than I am, but he still loves me. We go outside and play soccer, he plays the drums for me and loves little things that he was not allowed to do with his mom and FPs. He was RU'd for a while but got into gangs and drugs, and that's when older sister stepped in.

I am so proud of what he has over come, that hes working with a therapist and that he is excelling.

But if you think about it, I would be the parent/guardian of a 14 year at 26 

Pissed off Adoptee (POA)

To Whom this may Concern:

I would like to ask you a question. Do you know your medical history? Did your grandmother have cancer? Your mom? Maybe even your sister? So that means that you should probably get tested right? Early detection leads to a better quality of life, right? So then what if I told you that I don't know what my family history is? No, I did not loose my family in some horrible accident, no, I am not an orphan. I have a loving family who raised me and loved me. But the thing is, I have 2 identities. My name is Nicole, but my name was once Rachel. You see, I'm an adult adoptee. Like myself, there are so many others who know nothing about our birth families, except for the information that you let them provide in a closed adoption. I know that 26 years ago everyone in my biological family seemed to have been in good health. 26 years is a long time when health issues come to mind.

Now, if I was related by blood to my adoptive family I would know that I need to get checked for diabetes, hypertension, and breast cancer. I would know that weight is a major problem for me when I reached my 40s. But I know none of these things. I get to go to a new doctors office and check unknown for all family history, because I don't know. I know I have another family out there somewhere, but because you feel you need to protect my birth families rights, you step on mine. You step on my children's rights and the future generations of my continued blood line. The thing is, closed adoptions are cruel. You severed the tie between my birth mother and I, you hold my identity hostage and then you praise all of the people out there how have made the choice to relinquish, because families need children. Well what about the children who were removed from unfit homes? Stop grasping for the newborns, stop stealing us away. Use the money and the resources that you have to help those children who need it.

Signing off,
A Pissed Off Adoptee

The Adoption Issues Arise Again- The Never Ending Cycle

I am adding this to the Hot Button Series, because in all honesty, no one wants to talk about it, but Adoption Issues are a serious thing that affect every adoptee in one way or another and they surface at different times in different lives, but they are very real, and can cripple those who do not have support or those that do not recognize why we are feeling a certain way.

Abandonment

I've been feeling that stupid tug again.... The reoccurring issues of  "Who am I?", "Where did I come from?", "What does she look like?"

I'm scanning faces again, looking for anyone who I might look like, but I know I won't find the face I'm looking for.

Looking in the mirror has become difficult again, looking at China Doll's face, that dimple, Monkey and CD's toes, they got those traits from me, but where did I get them?

I was reading THIS article and it made a lot of sense to me, some things I do not agree with as these are generalized statements, but for me personally, a lot of it rang true.

THIS article made me want to write my own "Personal History"  just so I can show you how One sided my history is, this is what I know from "stories" from my adoptive family and my Non-Id information given to me by Catholic Charities


"I was born on Sept. 15, 1986, in Arlington County Virginia, No I do not know what city. My mother had just completed her senior year in high school and my father was a college Freshmen. They were both very active in sports and this is how they met. My birth mother become pregnant while they were no longer in a serious relationship. They decided together that their educations were important and that I deserved to be raised in a two parent household. My maternal Grandmother was very supportive and went to all appointments with my mother. They even visited me at the adoption agency before I was placed with my forever family."

Now that I think about it, as an infant, I experienced several losses in my short 3 months of life. You see, the first loss was losing my mother, the woman that carried me in her womb for 9 months, the voice I heard, the heartbeat I had grown to love, the only person I knew. I was then placed with a foster family. This was a family that cared for me, nurtured me, soothed my cries, and tried to fill the void of the loss that I had experienced from the day I was born. When I was placed with my forever family, I experienced the loss of my foster family. The only people I knew to care for me for those short months of my life. I had to adjust so many times in such a short amount of time. And to think, that I would see my birth mother, that she would hold me, that I would feel that bond and connection with the person who kept me safe for 9 months, only to be taken away after a short visit.

I was recently diagnosed with adjustment disorder, and as I've been writing this, I realize that all of the adjustments I had to deal with in as such a small, helpless infant, may be the root cause of why I react so badly to change, why I think everyone I love will leave, why I try so hard to please everyone around me, in fear that I will make one mistake and that they will reject and abandon me.

**taps mic** Is this thing on...?

I'm such a bad bad bad blogger... if there are any readers still out there... I'm sorry for my prolonged absence but adoption has been the last thing on my mind lately.

I mean, I did say that I was going to start writing about more then just adoption, after all this is my adoption story, so everyday life counts too right?

So, I promise to update AT LEAST once a week.... kk!

So let's see update in my world
Monkey is 6 now and still my inquisitive sensitive soul.

China doll is my diva mess lol. She makes things interesting

A Very Merry Unbirthday

With my birthday coming up on Thursday I've been in my head a lot, and adoption seems to be everywhere. Yesterday they were showing the most memorable moments of True Life on MTV, and one was of a 1^st mother relinquishing her child in the hospital room. There were no words, but the pain on her face, the grief of her clutching the chair you could tell that the only thing that could mend her heart was her child. At that moment I think of my own 1^st mom, and broke down on the couch next to Chris.

I’m not sure where this is coming from since I’ve had plenty of birthdays and I was excited about finally going out and celebrating 25 with friends and family, but now I just want to stay home and grieve for my 1^st mother. Since plans are already set in stone for this weekend I have decided with sound advice from another adoptee, that Thursday, will be the day I honor her. I will write her a letter and put it away for safe keeping until I can give it to her myself. I will light an extra candle and say a prayer for her, because Thursday she may be hurting.

The List of Doom

Okay, so there’s this list of questions, that I have to deal with every now and again, and sometimes it is just asked orally and other times its written, but it’s a list that will not for a second let me forget about my adoptee status. If you’re an adoptive parent, or an adoptee, you probably know this list, and it probably erks you too. Here’s a sample of said list.

Please check all that apply

FAMILY HISTORY

Has any blood relative had any of the following?

Scarlet Fever	YES	NO
Meningitis	YES	NO
Infectious Mononucleosis	YES	NO
Tuberculosis	YES	NO
Exposure to TB	YES	NO
Malaria	YES	NO
Bronchitis	YES	NO
Pneumonia	YES	NO
Pleurisy	YES	NO
Hepatitis (yellow jaundice)	YES	NO
Bladder infections	YES	NO
Rheumatic fever	YES	NO

Yes, that list, the list that can’t be answered, if you’re in a closed adoption like me. I kind of wish there was another box that says ‘Unknown’ but then again you still have to explain why. 

I love my current Doctor. Dr. Felix is great, he knows my background so he knows that sometimes we have to dig deeper, or run a few more tests, just because my family medical history is unknown. The only problem is that sometimes Dr. Felix isn’t available and being that it’s a large family practice there are about 10 other doctors I have a chance of seeing, all of which look at me kind of sideways when I tell them the only medical information I have is a family allergy to milk and aspirin.

Then the words that have never made me feel ashamed except for when I’m at the doctor’s office “I was adopted”. And after that sentence comes out of my mouth, they almost look sorry for me. Yeah, you know what, I’m sorry too, because it’s inconvenient and down right terrifying to not know what could be in store for not only me, but my two children. That’s what scares me the most. What could my genes have passed to my kids?

True Colors

I've been listening to this song on repeat most of the day.

Something about the song makes me think about my adoption.

This song can really be looked at in a couple of different ways

In my heart of hearts I can look at it like this....



"You with the sad eyes
don't be discouraged
oh I realize
it's hard to take courage
in a world full of people
you can lose sight of it all
and the darkness inside you
can make you fell so small

But I see your true colors
shining through
I see your true colors
and that's why I love you
so don't be afraid to let them show
your true colors
true colors are beautiful
like a rainbow

Show me a smile then
don't be unhappy, can't remember
when I last saw you laughing
if this world makes you crazy
and you've taken all you can bear
you call me up
because you know I'll be there

And I'll see your true colors
shining through
I see your true colors
and that's why I love you
so don't be afraid to let them show
your true colors
true colors are beautiful
like a rainbow "

What is His plan for me?

Questioning my Faith

I can pretty much say that from a very young age that I’ve always questioned my faith. In Sunday school they would tell us the stories from the Bible, for example, Adam and Eve. As a child to me this seemed like an unlikely story, a talking snake, really? But because it was the beliefs that my family wanted to instill in me, I listened, and tried very hard to understand and be the stand up Christian child I was being raised to be.

When I was in the 4^th grade my father’s step mother passed away, Grandma Helen. She was a surely woman, but I loved her because she was my grandma. This death was the 1^st of many that truly made me ask “Why?” and denounce my faith. Most children and even adults have their own vision of death. I imagined my grandmother would just look peaceful and at rest since her soul was no longer with us and was with God. I thought her body would look as she left it. Then again, I did not want to approach her casket because I was at peace with the vision I had created in my mind. One of my Aunties had a different plan in mind, as I was to pay my respects. The woman lying in front of me was not the Grandmother I had seen 2 weeks ago, but a grey shell that once was my grandma. I cried traumatized by the sight and ran out of the church.

5^th grade, I remember it like it was yesterday, this was the death that built the rage that I still to this day fight with. It was the phone call that changed many people’s lives forever. It was the phone call that sealed the fate of my faith. My mother’s best friend had taken her own life. This was the woman who would take me to church every Sunday, gave the coat off of her back to the homeless, brought them into her home so they could shower and have a warm meal, found them shelter and gave them a chance when others wouldn’t. She would visit the monastery once a month. Visit the retirement homes and read to those whose family had left them with no intent to return. She was the pillar of strength, and she was stead fast in her faith. In all the teachings that I knew for one to take their own life meant damnation. And at that tender age, I could not accept that the woman I looked up to, the woman who taught me how to be a strong Christian, how to live a life that would be smiled upon by our God, would take her own life. I blamed Him, I questioned Him, and I begged and pleaded for understand, I wanted to know why he would turn his back on one of his devout children in a time that she needed him most, and still to this day, her death, has haunted me, and my questions still remain unanswered.

The next was my Grandma Deloris, she suffered with cancer like my Grandma Helen did for years, she beat it once, and we were all happy and we rejoiced, and I obeyed her by going to church even with the anger from Dagmar’s death a year earlier. The cancer returned, and her body was still too weak, the chemo took her life and I once again asked why He would allow her to suffer through this twice. She was the star of her congregation. Former Opera singer felt her call to her church, the lead of the choir, the lollipop lady, as all of the children knew her was made to suffer.

Her husband, Grandpa Johnnie died nearly 2 years after; we all say it was of a broken heart, even though we know it was an aneurism. He could no longer live without the love of his life.

Having to deal with so much death in such a short time really hit me hard as a child, from the age of 10 to 16, 6 people that were dear to my heart passed away, I became more lost and more angry with every death. I was always told we are never given more then we can handle and at that point my cup was over filled by more then half.

And during such a vulnerable state, I found the crowd that every parent fears their child will join.

Only since I met my husband have I once again, tried to return to my faith, the death of my uncle earlier this year was not mourned but his life and Home Going was celebrated. It was the 1^st time in 14 years I was encouraged to remember the good in ones death, but it still brought up those old feelings, and questions that have never and probably never will be answered. I have prayed to have this anger lifted from me to allow me to clearly see His plan, but I guess now as an adult I see it is my job to work through this anger alone, yet I feel like I should at least feel Him as a guide, and I don’t. Most days when I think about it I feel like one of the Forgotten. I pray to feel Him, I try to be stead fast in my faith, yet I do not feel it. Maybe some people were truly not meant to be given a plan, maybe I am not one of those he sees or hears. In the end I won’t really find out until the moment I pass, that will be the time I truly find out if there is really a Heaven, a Hell, or nothing at all.

-N

Adoption and Breast Feeding

Adoption and Breast Feeding

As I’ve noticed, it’s a touchy topic, but for some reason it was on my mind as I went to bed last night.

I was reading The Other Boleyn Girl, and something about a wet nurse came up, which made me think about some of the A moms who have chosen to breast feed their adopted child.

Just so you know where I stand, I just don’t get it, but that’s because breast feeding for me was a nightmare! I understand the benefits of breast milk, and with Damien (my 1^st child) I never had that natural urge to breast feed. Actually the thought of it was appalling. With Natalie, since her father, uncle, and ALL cousins were breast fed, I kind of got pressured into doing so, even though I really did NOT want to. Needless to say, even with help from the lactation specialist, we still could not get Natalie to latch on properly, which caused soreness, bleeding, Natalie losing weight, having to supplement with formula, pumping, and breast feeding, resulting in me having a psychological issue with my breast being touched, in short; I NEVER want to deal with breast feeding again. So for those of you who want to breast feed and enjoy doing so, MORE POWER TO YOU!!

Back to the topic at hand, Adoption and breast feeding. Since I correlate breast feeding with my terrible experience, it is very hard for me to put my personal opinion aside, but when you only look at the benefits of breast feeding, it is a truly wonderful experience (so I’ve heard) for the child and mother to bond. So in trying to think about the side of an adoptive mother, who may or may not have had biological children, if she has bio children and breast fed those children, why would she not also want to share that time of bonding with her adopted child and raise them no different then the children she has given birth to? Or for the mother who has always said when she has children she will breast feed, just because she was biologically unable to have children, does that also take away her right to breast feed?

Just food for thought I guess, enough talk about breast feeding my boobs can’t take it any more!! Hahaha!

I wish I wasn't adopted

This week has been hard.

This week I wish I was never adopted. Why would i say such a thing you ask? Because its hard NOT knowing where you come from...

... to have never once in 24 years to see the people responsible for giving you life
...to wonder if they think about you on your birthday
.... to not know what  medical issues to look out for
...to be afraid that you passed something to your children that may affect them in later years...

and then to see people who's 1st parents have searched for them and found them and don't want contact AT ALL.... makes me jealous, makes me want to trade places....

I wish my mother was my 1st mother this week

Losing Fatih...

.... yup, ask and ye shall receive... nothing...

Under Rug Swept.

Every person has that issue that turns into the lump under the rug. They don't talk about it in front of others, almost like a family secret, or the family drunk, they think he should quit drinking but they won't dare talk about the situation outside of family.

Funny enough, my family doesn't have those issues, only because my mom and I talk about EVERYTHING! I'll talk to anyone about anything. Personal things stay personal with close friends and family but I talk a lot and have learned to apply a mouth filter during certain moments. I'm telling you my mouth has a mind of its own!

But my DH's family on the other hand... WOW!!! Do these people suppress a lot! Affairs, brothers stealing each others wives, alcoholism, racists, you name it, I think it's in the family. And I think each person in that family is suffering, because they don't talk about it. It's all under rug swept. Yes you can heal yourself through prayer, but having been to therapy, I know there's nothing more cleansing, then talking about it. Letting it go. Processing your feelings out loud, to someone who is not there to judge but to listen.

My DH seems to get annoyed sometimes when I'm just talking things out to him. And I think its just because nothing was ever resolved with anything. If his mother was upset, she'd get in the car and drive around being pissed off at everything and everyone. She would later come home and write an angry note and stick it on the fridge. Later, everything would be fine. But nothing was resolved.

Could you imagine holding all of that resentment in?! I would explode!

But that long story is just to give you insight into what I'm dealing with right now, this week, this family.

My DH has the alcoholic Great Uncle, who lives about a half mile from us. Said Uncle always takes a family member with him on vacation every year to Myrtle Beach. This year was DH and my turn. So we planned to go on June 3. I put in vacation time at work and let DH handle the rest. So Uncle, we'll call him Harold*, keeps calling me over the weekend and I was too busy to return his calls. I call him Monday apologizing for not getting around to calling him sooner, but working 6 days a week, having a sick child, and participating in the Walk for Autism took up my weekend. He then begins to curse me out. I take it with a grain of salt since I know he's been drinking since 7 am.

Jump to Tuesday, he calls me while I am on my way to work and asks me to call him when I go to lunch. 11 am rolls around and he has called me 5 times in 3 minutes. I go to lunch, and cal him after I've finished up my lunch and he starts asking personal questions about my and DH intimate life, which then takes a nose dive into him propositioning me, and when I respond NO he asks if money will change my mind.

Uncle Harold* once again, lives only a half mile from my house, my DH is in Indiana, and I'm freaking out, because Uncle Harold has once again started blowing up my phone. He has called me 3 times since  7 am. Telling me he's sorry, wanting to talk about me cancelling the vacation, he knows I'm pissed, blah blah blah!!

All the while, the rest of the family were mad for less then a day, and then responded with "Well, at least it will be something to laugh about in the future!"  Um, no!! Not funny! I want to move, any of you readers live in an area with great schools and the cost of living isn't too high?! No state is out of the question at this point....

Judgment day......

I hate being judged by people on such an unhealthy level that I won't even sing in front of my husband. I mean, I'll sing in the car, but that's me goofing off and NEVER hitting the proper notes and as for my pitch well, the neighborhood animals don't seem to like it much.


Now I will not say that I can't sing, because I know that I can, and that I'm good, but I will not sing in fear of someone judging me. I get embarrassed by positive feedback and I burst in to tears don't take negative critics well.

But what do you do, when someone tells a family member personal information about you, that causes a backlash with your in-laws. Lets use sexual preference or religion as examples because those seem to be the major things that most people in the world judge.


For example, someone who is gay may be open to their closest friends and maybe a few family members, but what if they have parents who are not fond a gays, they most likely wouldn't be open correct? So then would it be someone Else's right to tell their family "oh well so and so is gay"? no, that is their personal business to discuss.

and lets talk about religion, I'll talk personally about my experiences with this. I identify as Agnostic, only because I have had many moments in my life where I have questioned my faith. So I believe there could be a higher power, I do not feel that I have the right to give it a name, but I can also identify with different aspects of different religions. This by NO MEANS, means that I worship the devil.  But when you live in the bible belt, some people just assume you do if you don't out right answer yes i'm a christian. So, my in-laws life to whisper and it makes me crazy! I love them, but my relationship with God is my business. My children pray before dinner, and they say their prayers before bed, but I still have questions about my own faith that only I can work through.

so why do people feel the need to judge all the time? I'm honestly wanting to pack up and move away and never look back

Cha Cha Cha Changes....

So,

yeah I'm still alive... life took a hold of me and I became a bad bad blogger... I NEED to blog I've noticed because without it, I tend to hold things in and become angsty. Yes, I said it. Darn high school emo kid days ;?

Anyway,

I love my blog title, but I feel like it says "This is an adoption blog so you will only read adoption stuff"

But then again I thought about "Secret Life of an American Adoptee" Its about my life, what's going on in MY life, so that's what this blog will now become. Because honestly, if I only had to write about adoption related things, this blog would hang in limbo. So there you have it, if I start posting other stuff and all you want is an adoption blog, I can't help ya, this is my life and I want to share it with you...

Adoption Free Weekend!

Woot Woot! I managed to have an adoption free weekend...

Went to work at my moms shop on Saturday and let me tell you prom season is in full force. My arms were begging for rest by 5:00! Went to a birthday celebration, Miss Natalie decided that she was allergic to something she ate and broke out into hives!!



Today was amazing. Lately Damien's Aunt and I have decided that just because his father and I are no longer together doesn't mean that we aren't still family.. and Damien's dad although financially hasn't stepped up yet, he has been there for him more.

So Sundays are "Daddy Days" We all get together and just hang let the kids play and Damien spend time with that side of his family.
So we went to see Rango! Sweet movie, and although its rated PG, I think they reached the max amounts for "damns and hells" that PG can allow...just warning to all those parents who haven't taken their kids yet... screen it 1st and see if you're comfortable with that amount of swearing... Now that my babies are all washed up and about to hit the sack, I'm going to work on some stuff for work...

BTW... I have a special project that I've been working on... It may or may not happen... but if it does... you'll find out...

Thoughts

(x-posted from the a.com forums)

i've read articles, I've watched shows about how powerful ones thoughts can be.

and before sending off my paperwork, I was going through the "what if" stage

the past couple of weeks i've been filled with anxiety
then to stress
and today its been a mix of everything
I will suddenly get this overwhelming sense of calm and peace, because other then checking up with the agency and keeping on top of them, there isn't much I can do.

And then the moment I think about that... I realize that this is one situation that I can not control... and i panic. But its that quiet lump in your throat, shifty eyes paranoid keep to yourself panic.

I feel like I'm in a dream, it starts off seemingly normal but then being chased by something you can't see or hear, all you know is that you need to keep going. Because if you don't, something may happen.... the unknown will happen..

... my sleep aids haven't been working, my mood stabilzers, not working and thats mostly my fault because I've been so scatter brained that i forget to take them..
I'm letting this wait destroy me and i've had enough of it.
I just want to get on with my life!
Do i regret sending off my paperwork? Yes and No
No, because I feel like its mine and my childrens right to know where we came from and yes because I feel like I'm letting it control my life...

thanks for dealing with my vent...

Bad Blogger! Bad bad blogger!

So, with my lack of blogging you probably assumed that I had given up... no I'm still here! I've been pretty absent on my forums too... ugh... I've been a teeny bit stressed out.

What have I been up to? THIS why? beause its mindless... and knowing that Catholic Charities got my paperwork to search for my 1st mother is making me CRAZY!

I sent all my paperwork thru fed ex... so I could obsessivly check the tracking... so that I could make sure it was received.

I sent it on Valentine's Day.... and well, that was almost a month ago... it was received on the 17th... and I haven't received any word since. I have that feeling of empending doom, that my 1st mother may call me out of the blue one day, or that they found her and she's not interested... or maybe she's writing me a letter and just cant seem to get the words right. I'm not sure but I do know I'm cracking under pressure. So I'm back. And I'm sorry if I start venting, but I need to get all of this out, because its affecting my life, I'm unfocused snippy and a bit explosive... I need to seek counsil.

Older Adoptive Parents

Ever since my Uncle's funeral, I've been keeping this deep in the back of my mind. My parents were both 38 when I came home, not a big deal right? Women have children at that age and sometimes older... But do they ever think how their children will feel when they hit their 20s?

Here's my logic, may not make sense because I'm trying not to get emotional about it.

My best friend is 28, her mother is 50
My husband is 25 is parents are 50-51... his grandparents are 65-69
My cousin Marcus 32, My Uncle Al was in his early to mid 50s
I'm 24 and my parents are 62..

My parents are the same age as my husbands grandparents... and yes his Granny had his dad when she was 15 but do you see the gap that concerns me?

Chris's GiGi, Paw Paw and Granny are in their 60s with great grand children, they get to enjoy them for maybe another 20 years! And possibly even live to see Great-Great grands....

Will my parents be around in another 20 years? They both HATE doctors, so I'm always worried, will I have to bury my parents in my 40s? Will i have to bury them SOONER?

My dad's father... my grandfather developed dementia in his early to mid 70s... his about 84 now about 2 years ago he had no clue who I was... will my dad have the same fate?
His step mother passed away in her 50s from breast cancer...
My dad's bio Mom, passed in her 50s to 60s from breast cancer and her husband 2 years later from a brain aneurysm

My maternal grandmother was 79... how much longer do I have with my parents?

I shouldn't have to worry about this at 24!!!