ICYFMI

 

Last week I talked about the book I'm working on.  In case you missed it (ICYMI for ths of u txting ppl who dnt like using all of the ltrs), it's mostly for adoptees like myself who have really screwed up their lives and aren't sure why, but also for anyone who has ever struggled with rejection.  There are lots of the adoptees out there and probably many more of the latter than I ever imagined.

The fact that anyone has been adopted implies there was at the same time a rejection.  Many of us who were adopted have heard the well meaning comments like, "At least you were chosen!".  While a nice sentiment and by no means a maliciously intentioned statement and at least partly true, it doesn't take away the plain and simple fact that there was also a rejection

I've always said in absolute sincerity that I could not have hand picked two better parents and probably couldn't have personally planned a better childhood.  There was never a time that I can recall that I didn't know I was adopted.  No, my parents weren't perfect either.  Also my childhood like most others was laden with stuff I'd have to work the rest of my life to get over.  As my middle child was fond of saying when he was a kid, "Yet another childhood memory to repress!"  He was wise beyond his years.  So yes, there is some truth to the 'lucky chosen' comment. 

I'm also forever grateful that abortion wasn't legal and easily accessible at that point.  I'm not fully certain the outcome would have been the same but I wonder at times.  I may not have had a chance to live this life.  Even with all of it's challenges, it's still been pretty darned good.

Throughout my childhood there were those who would ask questions about my being adopted.  Did I know anything about my 'real' family.  Well my 'real' family was the one I was in.  I really didn't have the adoptee trade vocabulary down at that point but they were referring to my biological family.  And all the way through the years of my childhood, I really and truly didn't care to know anything.  I mean, why would

Yes, there are some positives about being adopted, and certainly things to be grateful for, but at the same time there are some realities which must not be ignored. I ran across a book one time after I began to realize all of the adoption stuff really did matter.  The book was by Nancy Newton Verrier called "The Primal Wound".  The premise is that bonding (primarily mother/child) is critical to a child's emotional and psychological development.  The book acknowledges that bonding begins well before birth and that there is a sense of safety and security with the sounds of the mother's voice - even the father's.  Researchers have found that the unborn child reacts and responds to what the mom eats and drinks (generally intakes whether healthy or not) and what she says and feels.  

So ideally for 9 months that (in most cases) strong bond is being formed. Then there's the birth.  I'm thinking that there is a lot of angst due to the trauma even in an 'easy' birth (whoa there mamas! I know there aren't any easy ones...you know what I mean!).  Being squeezed through a small tunnel, sometimes cold metal against the skin which is an entirely new sensation...scary!  All of a sudden there is bright light invading what was a lifelong darkness.  It used to be followed shortly by a sharp slap on the butt cheeks.  "HEY that HURTS!!  Waaaaah!!!"  New voices, not muffled now but loud!  And cold like the baby has never felt...from 98.6 degrees for all of life to suddenly a 35 degree delivery room is quite a shock to the system.  The anxiety level has to be out the roof. Where has everything gone which was familiar and comforting to him??  Was this the first feeling of separation and homesickness?

But then, familiarity.  Now they lay the baby down skin to skin on mama's chest.  He hears that heartbeat that lulled him to sleep day after day in the darkness.  He hears a familiar soothing voice, happy and jubilant that her little bundle finally made an appearance.  The anxiety starts to quell.  The weird pit in his stomach starts to subside.  All is right with the world...different, but at least there was that security to cling to.  That bond is quickly restored and is built upon (or not) through day to day interactions.  New bonds are formed but that one, that dear one, that only one which was known since the beginning of consciousness grounds him every time.  Yes there would be times when that bond would be broken for a time - camp, grandmas, and sleepovers - soon to be grounded again with that grand reuniting of coming home.

For the adoptee, however, that broken bond is just that.  Everything that he had become accustomed to would be gone forever.  The anxiety would remain.  There would not be the feeling of being 'at home' when reunited with the familiarity of that voice, that heartbeat, those sounds, those emotions, the other voices.  Yes there are other voices around, some even sound nice.  He gets used to the light and the blankets sure help ease the torture of the freezing temperatures.  Basic needs of food, clothing and shelter are being met, but there is something vital missing. That one who gives me a sense of security and well being isn't here.  It must be very unsettling.  

That's the 'primal wound' that Verrier talks about.  This wound, however else it's cataloged in the subconscious of an adoptee, is characterized as rejection.  It wasn't *necessarily* rejection, but that's how it's filed away.  When a child is adopted there certainly is bonding that occurs with very amazing people. It's not as if for the adoptee that bonding doesn't exist.  Adoptive parents are taught how to make the best of that process.  And certainly there is a sense of peace, security, and well-being that takes place through that process.  But that wound is still there.  

The problem is, that wound is unconscious.  I certainly wasn't aware of it. I didn't think about it.  I didn't dwell on it.  I know there was always a general anxiety, an angst that seemed to be ever present even with joyful and positive times.  I thought everyone felt the same and it was normal.  I didn't give my adoption  a thought 99 percent of the time.   It's kind of like having an illness with hardly a symptom.  The person isn't aware of that sickness going on and slowly spreading inside of them because there is no consciousness of pain, rash, fever, or anything else to tip one off to a problem.

It's hard to comprehend of intense pain that isn't perceptible.  But I know that kind of wound exists.  I lived it for several years.  However, there were symptoms.  I simply didn't understand that's what they were. That aforementioned general anxiety was one.  There was fear of rejection as well as a hypersensitivity to rejection.  Problems with all kinds of different relationships, deception/lying, behaviors, alcohol, tobacco, etc, sabotaging success and relationships, even sabotaging birthdays...all were related to that core wound.  It's like watching a very slow moving years long train wreck looking back.

In my early thirties, I began to become aware.  What had formerly been unconscious was slowly making it's way to the surface.  It seems like the more aware I became the worse things inside of me got until it reached a crescendo of sorts.  It was a process of around 30 years for the core issue to be identified and some very painful but necessary 'surgery' to be done in order to find healing.  Right now I think I can say I've found healing. 

As painful as a lot of that was, I'm grateful for being on the other side.  While I don't recommend making trite statements to adoptees or anyone else who has gone through something you haven't, I appreciate the thought.  I am grateful for the parents God allowed to raise me.  I am also grateful that I've found 10 half-siblings who I've started to know (and bond with).  I'm also grateful that God helped me successfully navigate my way toward  being on the other side of that mess.  My hope is that I can help others to avoid some of it.  FG