May 21, 2012

I just don't know what to say

I love participating in the Open Adoption Bloggers Roundtable questions. I love that they really make me think about adoption. They push me and connect me to others involved in adoption. Heather has created an amazing space there (and another one on her personal blog Production, Not Reproduction). About two weeks ago a new question came out. It was:

Write to someone else in the adoption constellation (someone specific or a general group). What do you want to say to them on Mother’s Day?

I must have started the post a hundred times in my head, mulling the words over and over. Deciding if I really meant what I was thinking, or if it was simply what I thought I should be thinking. I struggled with it so much I never linked up, but I thought I should give it one more try.

I intended to write a letter to Pie's birth mother. I intended to tell her what she has done for my life, that she is the reason I get to celebrate Mother's Day. I intended to tell her lots of lovely and heartfelt things, but...

But every time I sat down to type, all that came into my head was anger. Recently we've discovered some more things that Pie will have to deal with thanks to her difficult pregnancy. And I know she will be fine with the right help, and I know that whatever we come up against it will be okay. However, it could have been avoided.

Her birth mother could have taken better care of herself, not had the Dr. Pepper everyday, or eaten nothing but Taco Bell. She could have skipped changing the kitty litter and gotten more consistent prenatal care. And she most certainly could have skipped doing drugs every. single. day.

And while most of the time it's not something I think about, as we discover more things it affected the angrier it makes me. She's out in the world telling people her baby was perfect and the drugs didn't have any negative effects and that's simply not true. And it makes me a little stabby. Like seriously wanting to ready a shank to hide in my big hair the next time they come visit.

All of the wonderful things that are absolutely true are being overshadowed by my desire to shake her and call her an idiot. I want her to know she did damage. I want her not to make the same mistakes again should she decide to have other children. I want her answer to Pie about why she has these issues to not be because the drugs were more important.

I want all those things, but I know she won't listen. I know she's not at a place where she can hear it. I want to get back to a place where I can think the lovely and wonderful things and not have them tinged with the need to lash out. But I'm not at a place right now where I can do it.