What's So Great About Being an Older Adoptee? (Not Old! Just A Bit Older.)

“Who are you?”

My friend of many years said this to me, just a few months ago. And, she didn't mean it in a negative way. She was saying that she didn’t recognize who I'd become. 

“Seriously…who are you, Deanna?” she went on… “Because, whatever this change is...can I just say that I'm loving it…?”

Yeah. Me too.

This is an amazing season. I wish I had entered it years ago although I’m not sure it would have been possible. Maybe it would have been if I could have found a therapist like Melissa Richards, sooner. But the older aspect? Well,  being older only comes through…aging. Brilliant, Deanna! This is why people read your blog, to find such revelations, like the fact that being older only happens by aging.

Could I have learned these lessons without more life experience?

I don’t know. There’s a lot of "I don’t knows" today, if you hadn’t noticed.

I do know this -- some of this is not about being adopted.

There’s something that happens when you enter your forties, that seems to be common. And I hear it becomes even fiercer in your fifties, though I’m not there yet. My friends who are there tell me to buckle up, hold on to the bar and get ready! Well, actually they warn Larry more than me...

There's this “thing” that happens to you as your body begins to change -- so do a lot of other things. You tend to not give a rip about things you used to freak out about. In mid-life, a new-found confidence seems to indwell whereby you can finally face your worst fears in order to live true.

Maybe it's that you have less time to face them, and you are more cognizant of that, daily...I don't know. There's that pesky "I don't know," again. 

I know this. There are things I have done the last year that I would have never done, in my young adult adoptee life.

Quit, Die or Bounce. What Will You Do? (Confessions of a Professional Bouncer)

“M” sent me this picture last Thursday with only three words attached:

“Here we go!”

She sent her DNA test off in the mail, and now we wait.

As any of you know who have been through this process before, depending on which one of the three companies you use (Ancestry, 23andMe or FTDNA) they say results come back in 8-10 weeks or so. I got my Ancestry results back in four and lots of my friends did too. But, there are no guarantees.

If you have no idea who “M” is and you want to know, go back and read this post.

Does It Bring You Abundant Life?

One of the post-adoption issues my therapist worked with me on was an eating disorder. Up until the day my natural mother died, I had not conquered that issue. In fact I had never managed to go more than 21 days without regressing.

Photo Credit: Sam Howzit, Flickr

 
That all changed the day my natural mother died.

I’m not saying I’ve arrived. 

Not boasting here and making a triumphant announcement of perfection or anything like that. This isn't my first rodeo with post-adoption issues or stupidity.

What I can tell you is that for the longest time, ever in my life…60 days as of today, I have not regressed.  **happy dance**

Wheeling my suitcase out of hospice, I remember thinking to myself, "I will never be the same again." 

And with God's help, I'm not.

I was changed and never looked back.

Tragic News For My Critics: My Therapist Said Goodbye.

Goodbyes are hard for me as an adoptee.

I was afraid of this day coming.

Photo Credit: Eje Gustaffson, Flickr

I love going to therapy more than teenage boys love Axe. 

Being in therapy hasn’t only helped my adoption related issues -- it has touched every area of my life. I had considered keeping a monthly session scheduled with Melissa simply to help me in dealing with ministry related issues. 

 I believe therapy should be something we all do, like wearing deodorant.

One day recently Melissa delivered the news: “Deanna, it’s time for us to work toward closure with your therapy.”

“WHAT???” 

I almost fell off the couch.

Adoptees: Why It's Helpful to Cry Alone

The title of this post may seem unhealthy or even dangerous. 

Cry alone?

Yes. I'm about to share something with you that I've found extremely helpful.

Now, for a disclaimer: Prolonged isolation is not healthy. Disconnection with others can be dangerous– not to mention, it’s completely different from the way God has wired us. 

Photo Credit: zanten.net., Flickr

When I speak of the need to cry alone, I’m referring to something temporary.

It’s important to have people in our lives who accept the real us, who can handle our joys and our tears. I’m so grateful to have that in my life.

At the same time, I’ve found there’s a certain type of cry that is helpful to have alone.

It's a cry so deep, by it's nature tends to overwhelm family or friends who experience it.

Adoptees: YOU Didn't Fail Your Kids!!!

My sister and Tom recently sorted through some of Judy’s (my natural mother’s) belongings. They set a few things aside that they thought I would appreciate and sent them on to me.

Photo Credit: Miss_Millions, Flickr

A box arrived on my front doorstep last week and I opened it and began to look through it. Some pieces of her clothing my sister thought I would like were enclosed, as well as some  keepsakes. I am grateful for my sister and Tom’s thoughtfulness in this and treasure the items.

While I was going through the box, my eldest son Dustin walked in the room and said, “What’s that, Mom?” I explained the contents of the box. After listening for a moment he shook his head in frustration and said, “I wish there was a name in the box.”

Fear Trumps Love Every Time (But It Doesn't Have To!)

Take-aways are really important to me. Whenever I go to a conference I take a plethora of notes. Gleaning whatever I can is of utmost importance and formal teaching times are not my only opportunity for takeaways. I try to make a habit of learning something from every conversation. 

Photo Credit: Renett Stowe, Flickr

Talking with the Lord, sessions with my therapist, and conversations with friends have provided me with a plethora of takeaways in regard to adoption and my journey with my first mother.

This is What Adoptee Grief Looks Like. Warning: Gross Picture

 "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."

Ernest Hemingway

Bleeding is my blogging style.

I took this photo in Ernest Hemingway's writing studio, last year in Key West.

My adoptee and first mom blogger friends are amazing. Some of them, like Susan Perry, write about adoptee rights and they blow people away with their knowledge of statistics and laws. 

Some, like Amanda Woolston, testify brilliantly before congress, and then write about it.

Others like Laura Dennis, write from a mental health perspective and can deliver compelling posts featuring case studies, therapist interviews and the like.

 

Me? I emotionally bleed. 

All over the laptop. 

And I invite you to watch me bleed. My writings are a journey of wanting you to be able to taste the coffee I'm drinking and walk down the hallway  with me where I'm rounding the corner, and feel the tear as it runs down my cheek and into my ear as I lay in bed at night. 

Most of all, I want people to know they aren't alone. 
And, they can make it.


Recently I told an adoptee friend, “It appears God lets me bleed to the edge of death and back so I can show other people how to do it and survive.” 

So today, I’m quite literally and not just figuratively bleeding. No, it's not that time of the month.

An Adoptee Living Through Not-Okay-Ness

"I'm for truth, no matter who tells it. I'm for justice no matter who it's for or against."  ~ Malcomn X

“Who is God?”

The question was on a church sign I saw yesterday, announcing a new sermon series, in the town where I’m staying right now. 

I’ve been on a leave of absence to get my bearings, following my first mother’s passing, and will be for a while. 

Photo Credit: HaarFager, Flickr

I had been crying as I drove along yesterday, the last two days being very hard ones.  I had nightmares both nights and woke up crying both days. 

When I saw the sign, it infused me with a shot of hope. Because I know who God is. And the question on the sign served as a reminder to me to think about that.

Since my first mom passed, I knew I wasn't in the right frame of mind right now to lead anybody but me. Leading myself takes every ounce of energy that I have at the moment. So I'm on a self imposed time out, for the sake of myself and others.

I have to motivate myself to get out of bed,  brush my teeth, and stuff like that. 

First Mothers Never Forget. Ever.

Photo Credit: Qole Tech, Flickr

Being directionally challenged is one of my weaknesses. I’ve gotten lost going to places I’ve been a zillion times. One morning many years ago, I got lost driving our boys to school in a town we lived in for 10 years. They could hardly believe it and haven’t let me live that one down!

This extreme weakness of mine will give an explanation for the following revelation about my natural mother...something that will seem impossible to many. You will wonder how I could be possibly be unaware of what I’m about to share. Thus, the reason for me telling you that I can't find my way out of a paper bag on some days.

Years before I found my natural mother, Judy, I had met with the agency who handled my adoption. I had an in-person meeting for non-identifying information as well as to discuss being part of their reunion program.  After that didn’t work out, I searched for her myself and found her.   

I haven’t been to the agency in over 20 years.

Last week my sister and I got up early to drop our brother off at the bus station to head back to his home in North Carolina. As we were leaving the station I said, “Shari, would you be interested in seeing the last place Mom saw me, in 1966, before our reunion in 1993? We don’t have to go there if it would difficult for you but I was just thinking, maybe you would like to see it with me."  

“Yes! I would love to!” she quickly said. “We can go right now!”

The Final Goodbye

I had never touched a dead body before.

Photo Credit: freedigitalphotos.net

I've seen a whole bunch of them.

Prayed for the people crying over them. 

Cried with those who are crying over them.

But never laid my hand on one.

Until Friday, August 9. 

The first deceased person I ever touched was my first mom.

I held her hand at hospice after she passed, and touched her face ever so gently. 

I took a photo of her hand in mine with my iPhone.  I will not post it here or show it to anyone. It is precious to me and remains just for me. I told her I’d never post her name here on the blog and in keeping with that I don’t post her photos either even though it’s just her hand.

The Lie We Believe About Time

 “...you know that a good, long session of weeping can often make you feel better, even if your circumstances have not changed one bit.”  

~ Lemony Snicket, The Bad Beginning  

My sister and I eat the same thing at Olive Garden every time.

Soup, salad and breadsticks.

And sometimes a piece of lemon cream cake to finish it off if we’re not too full. 

Photo Credit: dyobmit, Flickr

I normally get a caffe latte too.   

Last Friday, there was no cake or latte to finish it off and we mostly picked at our soups and salad. There’s something about a huge lump in your throat that makes it hard to eat.  

The Arrangements

 “You'll stay with me?'
Until the very end,' said James.”

~ J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows 

Taking the elevator down from the fifth floor hospice was a going-through-the-motions type thing. We walked to the parking deck and got in our cars to go to BlileyFuneral home. 

The five of us arrived -- Tom, my sister, Aunt Jeri, Tom’s daughter Merry, (who was providing care and driving Tom around full time now that his arm was broken) and myself. 

We were warmly welcomed by an administrative assistant and the funeral director on duty. Blileys is a huge funeral home with many funeral directors, one of which is actually in the building around the clock, to assist anyone who needs help. They let us know we could reach out to them anytime, day or night.

After asking what drinks each of us would prefer, we were led into a conference room with a beautiful round table and chairs around it for each of us. We took our seats along with the funeral director and his assistant and began the process of planning.

The Final Moments

 Clean clothes, dirty clothes, I threw them all in my suitcases, quickly repacking to unexpectedly leave the condo we were staying in for General Council in Orlando. Larry got me the next available flight out, which meant we needed to leave immediately for the airport.

Photo Credit: elitatt, Flickr

Meanwhile my sister texted me to say that Tom had gotten off balance and fell and broke his arm. He was in the ER of the same hospital our mother was in.  Shari was just beside herself and said, “I need you! Please, please come quickly!” 

  “I’m coming as fast as I can!” I declared, while throwing my makeup and hair products in the bag, yanking the phone charger out from the wall, zipping the suitcase and saying, "let's go, babe..."

A Letter Received

Dear Deanna,

From the moment you first grasped your desperate need of me as a very young child, I have been there to hold you close through many circumstances.

I have never left you… never abandoned you, not for a second. 

Photo Credit: Bahman Farzad, Flickr

I too have wept as I witnessed things I knew would bring intense pain to your heart. Remember – I weep too! Yet the free will I have given to human beings allowed painful situations to take place in your life. I know you hate the whole free will thing at times, and you have often brought this up to me in your darkest times of frustration. But you also have come to an understanding  that for anyone’s decisions to hold meaning in this life, free will is a necessity.  

Saying Goodbye

I got the news yesterday.

Two months and one day after we got the news she had cancer.
 

Tom called this Tuesday night to tell me the doctors were going to talk to all of us yesterday morning and wanted me to be ready for a call. 

I've been at our Assemblies of God General Council all week in Orlando. Our church staff is staying together at a condo here. I made arrangements to stay back on Wednesday morning for the phone call so I could take it in private away from the crowds. (There are an estimated 20,000 some people or more, here for the bi-annual council.) 

Tom called and I was sitting here on the balcony, listening...

Why Yesterday's Birthday Was the Best EVER.

 

Photo Credit: Droid Gingerbread, Flickr

Yesterday was my birthday. The first present I got was being a year younger than before!  How, you might ask? Well, I'm so horrible at math I've miscalculated my age for years and have been telling everyone the wrong age! 

I realized I even put the wrong age on my medical forms for probably the last 3 years or so.

 Larry said, "I tried to tell you that you had been adding it up wrong."  

All this time I had thought he was being nice and just trying to console me. But it's true -- I am a bit younger than I thought, but still woefully inept at math.

Birthdays are a serious challenge for a lot of adoptees. Some go into depression. Others refuse to celebrate it at all. Right now I'm praying some people through their birthdays. 

For me, some birthdays have been awesome and others were a challenge. It just depended on what year it was and what the plans were.

Yesterday's birthday was different than any other, EVER in my life.

The Stubborn and the Strong

The truth about life adopted is that it’s not all you live. Although I will always be adopted and it forever impacts my past, present and future there are many other things going on at the same time.

Photo Credit: UplandAccess, Flickr

I am blessed with a 26-year marriage, and three children. Like most if not all people, there are always issues weighing on my mind concerning my family. As a mother, I become concerned about things with my kids. Most any given week I am doing what some Pentecostals call “carpet time” on their behalf. (This consists of laying on the carpet crying out in prayer, asking begging God to do something). I am trying to keep a marriage strong. We pastor a church. Yes, it’s a wonderful thing but takes a tremendous amount of energy and fortitude. Not complaining, just stating fact.

One day I was sharing with a friend everything going on in my life aside from adoption and she said, “Oh my gosh, you have all this going on, AND you’re adopted?” I replied that I don't have any other choice.  And if you’re an adoptee, you don’t either. You have a whole life outside of adoption issues, to navigate. Doing it well is definitely intentional.

Why I Chose to NOT Go On Medication for Post-Adoption Pain

Disclaimer: What I share today is my personal journey and choice, and is not a statement that I believe everyone should follow the same path.  Please consult with your physician and therapist, to determine what course of action is best for you.

  

Photo Credit: Deanna Shrodes (Yes, this is my neighborhood...)

While out on a walk in the neighborhood I met a woman who had experienced the loss of a family member in the previous year. As we talked she shared that she had not really allowed herself to let go and release her emotions and fully express the grief. She told me she had not yet even allowed herself to cry. There was a fear that if she released her emotions she may have a nervous breakdown, the pain inside her was so great . “I’m afraid if I start crying I’ll never stop…” she said.

5 Choices I've Made In Response to Pain and Loss

I lost my job as a career coach and got it back, within 24 hours. 
True story.

This happened last year, in what I know was not a twist of fate but divine intervention.

Photo Credit: Michael Ruiz, Flickr