It Is Dangerous To Be A Woman

Patricia Ann Tucker

In addition to helping adoptees discover their original parents and genetic background, DNA is providing a low level of justice for women who have been killed, with their bodies dumped in isolated places. I think all of my life I’ve known that to be a woman places one’s self in danger. At times, when I was younger, I was stupidly and naively willing to take risks that I recognize now were very dangerous and sometimes, I paid a minor price in receiving some sexual abuse (though not killed or seriously wounded) because of that. So often, when stories like today’s emerge, I think – “but for the grace of God,” or my guardian angels or whatever it has been that has “protected” me from my own miscalculations. That “whatever” has kept me safe and preserved this life.

Matthew Dale was 5 years old the last time he saw his mother (he was born in 1973, the same year that my daughter was born). He sat in the back seat of a stranger’s car that day of 1978. All his life he was missing his mom and didn’t know for certain what had happened to her. The last words his mother ever said to him before she disappeared were “. . . go across the street to the playground” (referring to a group home for juveniles) and “She said goodbye.” Tucker was shot in the temple, then dragged by the neck with a man’s belt. Some loggers found her under a stump on November 15, 1978. His father collected him the following day and raised him.

Matthew grew up dogged by the mystery of his mother’s disappearance. Rumors swirled among family members, including speculation that Tucker may have entered the federal Witness Protection Program. He has scant keepsakes from his mother: a single photo, baby books she created for him, a lock of his hair and a small tapestry she painted when he was small. When his father died in 2015, he felt somewhat adrift, although he is happily married and is a father. He has been a union electrician for most of his life.

He was in his 30s, when he accepted that his mother was dead. “Through the years,” Matthew says, “I’ve been told so many lies about it.” He later came to understand that his mother “fell in with the wrong crowd. She wasn’t a hiker, like some of the stories said.” Matthew filed his DNA in a database, in case his mother was ever identified. He sent state investigators his digital DNA profile after they found him through his uncle’s DNA. Now that his mother has been identified, he plans to arrange for a proper grave for her. For years, the grave had been marked only with a wooden cross. In 1998, Granby residents donated money to create a more dignified marker. He says, “It was an awful end. What I want to do is have a new gravestone made for her. She deserves to have her name on it.” Matthew admits “At least I have some answers. It’s a lot to process, but hopefully, the closure can begin now.”

Credit to LINKS>MASS Live and The Guardian for the details in today’s blog.

You Don’t Owe Anyone

An adoptee writes – I went no contact with my adoptive mother about 18 years ago. She was always abusive and treated her biological daughter much better than me. My cousin contacted me the other day and said I should reach out and make amends because she is showing signs of dementia and on death’s doorstep. Am I in the wrong for not trying? I mean she did raise me when no one else wanted me after all. I’m so torn and need advice.

One foster parent replied with her own experience – Only you know what your heart needs and no one else can make that choice for you. Completely different situation, but my grandmother died of Alzheimer’s and I was guilted into coming to say goodbye the week before she died. I knew I didn’t want those memories and now my last memories of her are of her being cruel and racist to the nurses in her care unit. She didn’t know me and she didn’t care that we were there. I wish I’d listened to my heart and not gone. You don’t owe this trip to anyone. Only go if you think it will give you closure. If it’s for anyone else, it’s not worth your time or energy. Hugs. This is a hard thing to go through even in the best of circumstances. Sending you love and peace.

One woman who identifies herself as the aunt of adoptees said clearly – Children do not “owe” their parents or caregivers anything. Ever. Especially in cases of abuse. The people who raised you certainly weren’t “care givers”. Only consider what is best for you in the short and long term. I’m sorry you’re having to face this. Be kind to yourself.

An adoptee writes – I had no natural parents either, was abused by my adoptive parents too. I cared for one for twenty years, am divided now on how smart that was. In hindsight? I’d say spare yourself. Wishing you all health and happiness whichever choice you make.

Another foster parent wrote – toxic is toxic. Unfortunately that means family too. For me personally, it doesn’t matter if it’s birth family, adoptive family, chosen family or forced…. Toxic is toxic and you owe NO ONE a reason for removing that from your life. You do what works for YOU and do not allow others to manipulate you into feeling things that aren’t yours to carry.

A hospice nurse was quoted as saying – “no one is owed your forgiveness, your love or your physical presence. Impending death does not change that in the slightest”.

Another adoptee writes – You went no contact for a reason. Honor yourself and your feelings, and only do what you feel is the right thing to do, not what other people thing is the right thing. A diagnosis doesn’t suddenly absolve someone from the horrible things they’ve done. Being on death’s door doesn’t suddenly absolve someone from the horrible things they’ve done. No one owes anyone an apology for any reason if they don’t want to give one.

Another adoptee offered a good analogy – You don’t have to care and you don’t have to care that you don’t care. Would you make friends with a bee that stung you in the eye every once in a while?! Give it a home? A place in your heart? Dedicate time and energy to it’s well being? It only stings your eye every once in a while…

Another adoptee suggested these self examination questions – Consider why you went no contact and how you’ve been since. Have you been at peace or had serious regrets? Have you ever attempted/thought about attempting a reconciliation because it was something you ideally would want? Do you think it’s something that could reasonably happen? If the answer is yes, then maybe consider it. If this isn’t the case, it’s ok not to pursue this. Decisions have consequences. You aren’t responsible for relieving the consequences of someone else’s hurtful behavior just because their time is running out and it would make them feel better. Don’t let external attempts at manipulation influence you. If you’ll feel guilty for not attempting a reconciliation, that is completely different from attempting a reconciliation to prevent others from trying to make you feel guilty.

And this important point to consider from another adoptee – dementia takes the filters off. There’s a chance she may be even crueler than you remember. She might not be, but it’s not a risk worth taking. If you can’t be in contact with her when she’s coherent, you shouldn’t be guilted into contact when she’s got even less self-control.

This self-assessment had leapt out at me also – I hope you are in therapy and I really encourage you to challenge the concept that “no one else wanted you”. That phrase feels like a knife to the heart, you deserved better and whoever said that to you or instilled that belief was grooming you to accept crappy behavior from people who were supposed to love and protect you.

More than one adoptee admitted to being no contact and estranged from their adoptive parents due to reasons of perceived abuse – having feelings such as doubt, guilt, and obligation are common in estrangement situations, and especially in adopted people.

Adoptee Perspectives

There are two adoptees who’s writing I follow. Actually, there are a few more as well. But this morning I read from two that I thought enough of to keep open and quote from and link to today.

From Tony Corsentino, a thoughtful essay titled LINK>Unattached. It is so very difficult to express how adoption makes a person feel. I rush in to acknowledge – I am NOT an adoptee – but as the child of two adoptees who are now deceased, such perspectives matter to me. “Different adopted people . . . hold different views about their own adoptions. Some believe they should have not been born, i.e., that their parents should have had the option to terminate their pregnancies or, if they had the option, should have taken it. Others believe that their parents should not have relinquished them—either that they should have had the support necessary to keep their child, or that (assuming they actually did have the necessary support) they should have used it. Still others believe that the people who ultimately, by legal sanction, started calling themselves their parents should never have done so. These are all reasonable views to take, and every adopted person’s life is different. I oppose the dominant idea of adoption without opposing my own adoption.”

Tony goes on to say – “Taking a baby from its parent and legally decreeing that strangers will now be known as “mother” and “father” does not rate any special mention among all the ways reality is constantly going topsy-turvy. It is adoption’s opposition to the truth that I oppose.” He ends with the thought – “as adopted people, we belong to no one.” Wow, somehow that one strikes right into my heart. While I am grateful to be “whole” now in my late 60s (as regards knowing what adoption robbed my parents of in life, and myself – for most of my own life – from knowing), at the end of all that – I feel that way too. In a harsh reality, adoptees belong to no one – but themselves. Now that my parents are both dead and their original and adoptive parents all dead, sigh. I guess, at some point, we all are alone as our own self.

From my friend, Ande Stanley, LINK>Grappling with Guilt. She writes, “After learning in my thirties that i am adopted, the mortal sin of criticizing adoption can be added to my ever expanding list of offenses.” In very real ways, Tony’s and Ande’s perspectives are very similar. She writes, “avoidance is not a realistic option when dealing with adoption trauma.” And I get this part too – it can’t be avoided when – “you live in a culture that glorifies family severance as a moral good. This shit is everywhere.” Ande confesses “I don’t know what the eventual outcome will be related to speaking up the way we have in recent podcasts.” And describes her hopes – “The hope is that people are provoked, yes. Provoked to think, not that this whole Christianity thing should be thrown out, but that the adoption narrative sure as hell should be. Provoked to think that modern therapy needs to address the trauma inherent in adoption in an honest, critical way. Provoked to re-examine beliefs about children as an entitlement and as a commodity to be exchanged.”

I think in highlighting the various stories I come across – here in my own blog – Ande’s hope is my hope too. The rainbows and unicorns adoption narrative SHOULD get thrown out. The reality is complicated and problematic, even when the adoptee accepts their own reality of having been adopted.

No Tummy Mummy Crap

One of the fastest ways to trigger adoptees as an adoptive parent is to refer to their first mother as a “tummy mommy” or some similar variation, as in the book cover image here. Today’s opening comment reads – “I have two children both adopted through foster care. My son is 4 1/2 and my daughter is 2. I’ve had conversations with my 4 1/2 yo about his tummy mommy and he’s seen pics of her.”

Not surprisingly the first comments were – “Please get rid of the phrase tummy mommy.” Followed by “Yes please leave off that crap. It’s so gross.” “It reduces his mother to nothing more than an incubator.” Or this, somewhat crude comparison but totally on point – “If you wouldn’t refer to your adopted children’s father as dong daddy, or penis papa, then don’t refer to their mother as a tummy mummy.” An adoptive mother answers the question – “What if the mother wants to be called tummy mommy?” with this – “I’d tell her that I want them to know that I see her as more than that and that I want her kids to as well.”

From the LINK>Lavender Luz Opinion Poll – Some don’t like the term – either because it is anatomically inaccurate or it is reductive of the first mom. Some like “first mother” because it honors the mothering that was done from conception until placement. I have personally struggled with “first mother” as opposed to “birth mother” but this explanation has won me over to “first mother” from now on.

Another person expressed her perspectives – I can’t think of a single woman who would appreciate being known as “tummy mummy”.

My objections are threefold:
1. It diminishes the woman’s motherhood. Like it or not, she is a mother, period, not just one in the tummy (see how ridiculous this sounds when you run with it).
2. It implies that the other woman carried the child for the adoptive parents. This is untrue unless it’s a surrogacy situation. Of course, pre-birth matching may encourage this view (witness people talking about “our birthmother”), but this only exposes the manipulation inherent in pre-birth matching. A woman’s child is her child, until she makes the decision to surrender – and even then, she is still a mother.
3. It could be potentially confusing to the adopted child’s understanding of his or her other family, heritage, siblings, and so forth. What is the important thing, that he grew in someone’s tummy or that he is genetically connected to the other family? How is this phrase actually used? “You grew in her tummy but we’re your parents”? Original family isn’t reflected in this phrase, which seems intent on removing all important connections and substituting them with a biological detail that isn’t even accurate. Who needs a phrase like this, anyway?

Heck, they used to claim that kids with two parents of the same sex would be totally confused as well, and it simply isn’t the case. Confusion tends to be tossed around when people don’t like the paradigm shift. In the phrase “tummy mummy” I can’t help but hear the adoptive parent hanging onto her status as real. No need to do that. Everyone is real, even when we’re absent or not perfect (which is all of us).

I’m Not Your Daughter

Expectations. When couples adopt, they have certain expectations of the child. They expect the child to be something that maybe the child is not. It is way too common. Today I read – “Anyone just want to look at their adoptive mom as scream I love you but I’m not your daughter!!” This really touched a nerve as it brought over 100 comments. I’ll share only a few.

The very first comment came from an adoptive mother (no surprise). I would ask myself whether she did any of the things mentioned below… If so, she’s taken on the role of mother and you’ve taken on the role of her daughter.

1. bring up (a child) with care and affection.

2. look after (someone) kindly and protectively, sometimes excessively so.

You mentioned above that you love her and I’m sure you also appreciate her. But what does her not being your birth/first mother have to do with the situation? Is she trying to help you in a difficult situation and you don’t want her help? Is she being nosey into an area that you prefer she stay out of??? I’d say that’s how most moms are. And it’s because they care.

Another adoptive mother responded to the above – I’m horrified that you would invalidate this adoptee’s feelings. It is not her job to make her adoptive mother feel like a mother.

And yet another adoptive mother said – Your comment was tone-deaf and demeaning. It’s unsurprising yet somehow still bizarre that you would try to introduce the perspective of an adoptive parent over the voice of an actual adoptee. It feels like projection and it’s so yuck.

Finally, an adoptee responds – your comment just made me feel gross and burdened just like everyone else does. It’s always about how it’s my job to be gentle on my adoptive mom and all adoptive mother’s feelings. It’s my job to make her feel better about not being my mother. All at the expense of my own feelings. You basically said Oh hush now you mean ol’ adoptee…don’t ever hurt your adoptive mother, she is fearful and she just loves you and cares about losing you. That is why you should never say how you feel as an adoptee. The cardinal rule in my life as an adoptee has been that my (or any) adoptive mothers feelings matter more than mine. Adoptive mothers are the victims and it’s my job to worship them and never ever hurt their feelings by saying being adopted hurts. I feel this damaging belief is what keeps adoptees in the fog and from getting the support they need.

Another adoptee shares her experience – My adoptive dad acted like I was committing a crime against my adoptive mom when I found and initiated a relationship with my birth mother. I was over 30 years old. They’d never offered to help me find or contact her. I did it myself and he spoke to me as if I were a naughty child disregarding her feelings.

From the original commenter – this is not just “I’m upset with her”. I also don’t need advice on what to do. She is NOT my. Mother period. I didn’t choose to be adopted. I will not be gentle. I’m tired of having to cater to others over something I had no choice in. I will not be quiet.

This morning I was reminded of this song by Karen Drucker which I have always loved.

A Burning Desire

I was reading some thoughts by an adoptee (Elizabeth Casalaspro) in her blog LINK>A Roller Coaster Ride on the subject of forgiveness but for me it echoed my experience related to reunions. She says “Adoptees do not choose to be adopted. They still have the desire to ‘know’ where they come from. Most adoptees mean well and have a burning desire to learn about their biological family. Most adoptees just want answers.” My mom certainly had that but was blocked by the obstacle of a sealed adoption record.

When she died, I wanted to somehow fulfill her wish. My mom had a brother who had been adopted from the same agency. One of his daughters called me one day to tell me she had been able to get her father’s adoption record, that it had many pages and didn’t cost all that much – still it cost more than I could afford to spend at that time but at least I knew I could get some answers. Eventually, I did have that much disposable money to do it and in the Autumn of 2017, I received her adoption file and what a revelation it was.

I didn’t think of it as a burning desire but somehow, once that fuse that connected me to the truth of my origins was lit, it simply propelled me along. Certainly, I did have some encouragement to keep going into my dad’s origins from my nephews. The entire journey I had the support of my husband to learn my own truths.

It is a rather odd place that I have now arrived at. I do feel “whole” in ways I did not for 6 decades of my life. I know from whom and geographically where I come from and though it leaves me in a rather awkward uncomfortable place regarding “my family” I am grateful for what I now know. I am still processing this 6 years later. There is the “family” I grew up “knowing” and the “family” I do not share memories with – except for one who I spent an afternoon with and was given the history of those long years on my mom’s paternal side. And there is a cousin I’ve not met in person but who was supportive and provided me with many pictures that fill in some of the gaps of my father’s family history.

Adoption will never and can never feel organically normal. Most children grow up with the parents who conceived them, as I did. Adoptees are transplanted humans. Transplant rejection and other serious complications can and do occur. Adoptive parents have the challenge of matching their adoptee’s needs and there is an unavoidable stress in creating a relationship with a non-related person. Characteristics may not match up well enough to result in happiness for the people impacted.

Elizabeth may have been on the best track by acknowledging a need to forgive, quite generally, so much.

She Just Got Lost

Amanda Deza with daughter Veronica

A sad story today by way of The Guardian LINK>DNA used to identify California mother whose body was found 27 years ago. There is a clearer, better photo at The Guardian article. Her daughter, Veronica Tovar, contributed the DNA sample. Veronica was removed from her mother’s home at the age of three along with her other siblings. Her mother did want her children to stay together and the three were eventually placed in the same adoptive home.

Veronica says of her mother “She loved her kids even though she wasn’t here with us. That feeling never left me. She did the best she could with what she had. For me, for what I feel and the memories I have, it’s almost like she just got lost. I think she didn’t have the support she needed to thrive.” As she waited to hear back from police, she pored over details of the case and the reality of what her mother endured began to sink in. “I sat on pins and needles until I found out. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, I couldn’t stop reading about her case,” she said. “It is so unfair, so unjust, the brutality of how she was murdered.

She remembers being able to sense her mother’s struggles. “Before I was taken I do remember feeling sadness from her,” Tovar said. “I remember my mom was really sad.” Tovar is the only one of Deza’s children involved with the case. Her brother and sister are not up to taking part, she said. They were removed from her mother’s home before her and none of them know why. “We still just don’t know. On top of the not knowing we didn’t know what happened. We didn’t know why she never contacted us.” She adds, “I remember her playing with me in the sand one time. I remember her loving me. I can feel that. She did love me. She was sweet.”

Investigators believe she disappeared at the age of 29. She was last seen in 1994 with a man she had met at a rehab facility in the city of Napa, nearly 80 miles from where her remains were eventually found. Authorities said there was never a missing person report filed for Deza, who they described as experiencing “challenging times” before she died. On a spring day in 1995, a group of recyclers scavenging along a northern California canal made a grim discovery – the remains of a woman bound and gagged inside a partly submerged refrigerator. Authorities believed the body, described as being that of a woman between 29 and 41 years old with strawberry blond hair, had been underwater for several months.

March Makes Me Think Of My Dad

My Dad

With the arrival of March, came thoughts about my father. He was an adoptee, as was my mother. Like my mom, he never knew anything about his familial origins. When he died, he had a half-sister living only 90 miles away who could have told him so much about his birth mother. Sadly, he never wanted to know and counseled my mom not to go searching that it might be like opening a can of worms – fisherman that he was all of his life.

My dad was sociable and outgoing which had me reflecting on my dad’s own father – Rasmus Martin Hansen, who was born in Denmark and immigrated to the US in the 1920s. He was a married man having an affair at the time my dad’s mother conceived him. It does not appear that he ever knew he had a son and my dad was the only child he ever fathered (as far as is known LOL). What I know of him is that he was also outgoing and sociable. He was the dock master at a yacht club in San Diego until his untimely death from a heart attack while driving home. He had many celebrity friends who even came for his funeral.

So, my dad comes by his fisherman genes honestly by way of this other fisherman who was his father. My dad is also a Pisces (as was his father) and was born just a few steps away from the Pacific Ocean near San Diego. He just was as he was conceived and born to be. He passed away February 3 2016. I do miss him dearly.

While he could be a lot of fun as a father – gave me a dirt bike to ride when I was still a school girls and took us for rides in his dune buggy in the desert sandhills of El Paso Texas where we grew up – he could also be infuriating and at times when I was growing up, truly terrifying (while never laying a hand on us). Even so, though I did get angry at him and would give him a piece of my mind quite honestly on many occasions, it never diminished a deep love I had for him. After all, when my unwed teenage mother turned up pregnant with me – he did not abandon us.

His birthday is so close to St Patrick’s Day that I have never forgotten it and so he was given the middle name of Patrick when he was adopted (his birth name was Arthur Martin Hempstead – the first a family name, the middle his dad’s name and the surname, his unmarried mother’s surname). Interestingly, I have learned that my Grandfather Rasmus’ birthday is very close (March 10th) to my dad’s and so, I think of both of them with the arrival of March.

Twenty Things

I saw this recommended in my all things adoption group – “For adoptive parents: my adopted daughter asked me to read this recently. It has been really helpful to me, but also to our relationship. It gives us a framework for talking about how she feels and what she needs from me. I’ve learned so much, but there’s still so much to learn.”

Found this review in an interesting place – LINK>”nightlight Christian Adoptions.” Not a place I would normally think to look for any adoption insights. The review says that the author is an adoptee herself as well as a speaker and adoption trainer. She has written a book specifically about what adopted kids wished their parents knew. This list will give you amazing insights – whether you are an adoptive parent, an adoptee, or are considering adoption … and these insights can also apply to kids in the foster care system and foster parents.

Here’s the list of the 20 things –

1. I suffered a profound loss before I was adopted. You are not responsible.
2. I need to be taught that I have special needs arising from adoption loss, of which I need not be ashamed.
3. If I don’t grieve my loss, my ability to receive love from you and others will be hindered.
4. My unresolved grief may surface in anger toward you.
5. I need your help in grieving my loss. Teach me how to get in touch with my feelings about my adoption and then validate them.
6. Just because I don’t talk about my birth family doesn’t mean I don’t think about them.
7. I want you to take the initiative in opening conversations about my birth family.
8. I need to know the truth about my conception, birth, and family history, no matter how painful the details may be.
9. I’m afraid I was “given away” by my birth mother because I was a bad baby. I need you to help me dump my toxic shame.
10. I am afraid you will abandon me.
11. I may appear more “whole” than I actually am. I need your help to uncover the parts of myself that I keep hidden so I can integrate all the elements of my identity.
12. I need to gain a sense of personal power.
13. Please don’t say that I look or act just like you. I need you to acknowledge and celebrate our differences.
14. Let me be my own person, but don’t let me cut myself off from you.
15. Please respect my privacy regarding my adoption. Don’t tell other people without my consent.
16. Birthdays may be difficult for me.
17. Not knowing my full medical history can be distressing for me.
18. I am afraid I will be too much for you to handle.
19. When I act out my fears in obnoxious ways, please hang in there with me and respond wisely.
20. Even if I decide to search for my birth family, I will always want you to be my parents.

Not everyone (especially adoptees) are fans – “Eldridge is not an ally of adopted people! On one of her disturbing Facebook pages, she regularly deletes comments by adoptees, and blocks them if they dare to point out the nonsense she’s been sharing. I can see why adoptive parents would like her content.

Kidsave’s FlatSasha Project

I learned about this organization LINK>Kidsave and their FlatSasha Project today, thanks to an article in The Guardian LINK>Ukrainian children orphaned by war ‘need a tremendous amount of help’.

Last February 24th marked one year since Russia invaded Ukraine. Since the war began, Kidsave Ukraine has been working tirelessly to rescue those in danger, get them to safety and provide them with urgent humanitarian aid. When the harsh winter set in, the most vulnerable members of society – Ukrainian orphans – were having to navigate these frightening and unstable times without families to support and comfort them.

Flat Sasha represents a 12-year-old orphan displaced from their home in Mykolaiv due to the war, like so many other children in the country. Flat Sasha can be printed out, colored in and decorated. Once you’ve created your Flat Sasha, we encourage you to hang them up in your school, office, home, car, or bring them along with you on a brand new adventure. LINK>Download FlatSasha. There is both a male and a female version.

Kidsave will be training volunteers and staff on trauma therapy as part of their own efforts to rebuild Ukraine. Donations to the organization will aid the construction of a center in Ukraine aimed at providing mentorship, therapy and other emotional support services to children trying to grow up within a conflict experience.

The organization had already been working in Ukraine for six years – BEFORE the invasion by Russian forces on February 24 2022 made a bad situation worse. It has been estimated that there were more than 105,000 children across 700 orphanages, boarding schools and other institutions in Ukraine when the war started there – that’s more than 1% of the nation’s underage population and Europe’s highest rate of youth institutionalization. Numbers since then are harder to track as children have been evacuated and moved out of Ukraine’s institutionalized care for safety reasons. But there’s reason to think things have gotten only harder for Ukraine’s orphans. Ukraine’s prosecutor general, Andriy Kostin, has said his teams have documented more than 14,000 instances of Ukrainian children being forced into adoption in Russia since the invasion. Ukraine has made it a clear priority to keep any of its children who are in need of adoption in the country as opposed to sending them abroad.