Mourning blog entries

Better, without

The man who impregnated the woman who birthed me, aka my bio-father, was better without me.

My birth-mother, aka, first mom, was better without me.

My Aparents, aka my saviors, were better without me and the reminders I could bring, once I confessed  my childhood (adoptive family) experiences, (the rapes, the molestations, the beatings).


My life... it has been an unwanted burden.  A burden others could do without.... all burdens put upon me.

<deep, deep, deeper cleansing breath>

Mourning my parents

Today,  I miss my mother, not the one that the adoption industry gave me in the name of Jesus, but my real mother, the one who gave birth to me. She died in a bus accident when I was 6 years old while going to the funeral of my grandmother. My sisters and I didn't go to the funeral, so I didn't see the accident that caused her death. I told her goodbye just like if she would come back the same day. My oldest sister was the first to learn about her death. She wept and yelled non stop while going to the place where mom was hit by the bus.

My father is dead.

My adoptive father is deceased. I didn’t see him before his death because I had cut off contact with him about 18 years ago. He died more than seven months ago but I know it only since two weeks. His death reminded me of my first father. My first father is also deceased. I didn’t see him before his death either. I learned about it 24 years after his death.

Mourning the Mommy that could never be

One of the saddest realities I have learned through my own experience is life without a Mommy.

I cringe when people assume adoption will provide that missing maternal-link for a child, because the truth is, no such guarantee can be made.  Mistakes in placement happen, and I believe the end-result can be catastrophic.

I don't understand the woman incapable of loving her own child... and I don't understand the people who prevent the natural mother from giving her love a try.  There's something seriously WRONG with the words, "You're not good enough to be given a chance".

I don't know what my life could or would have been like had my mom kept me.  It was never tested or tried.  All I know is I was given to a family filled with angry people, driven by so many bitter stories, unresolved personal issues  and a need for retribution, if not revenge.

Why did it have to be that way?

Why didn't anyone make sure the baby-girl placed would be safe?

For the life of me, I will never understand the motivations behind money, when so much life and love can so easily get lost.

Pound Pup Legacy