The Jim Twins

Jim Lewis and Jim Springer

I am a Gemini, so I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of twins. I often fantasized that there was a twin that didn’t make it to make my birth but there is no proof that ever happened. I have a sister only 13 months younger than me and when we were young, we were often dressed alike, as though we were twins – then she got much bigger than me. When I had my daughter, she would say that we were twins when she was still very young and I wondered if she was my missing twin, later born to me as her mom instead. That probably didn’t happen either. In assisted reproduction, there is a circumstance known as a vanishing twin (I experienced that with my oldest son’s conception). Adding to my own interest is the fact that I married a man who’s father is a twin. His twin brother, who was deaf due to an illness he was afflicted with when he was very young, was always tickled when local people would mistake him for my father-in-law.

Twins who were separated after birth have often been studied with remarkable results considering they were not raised together. These kinds of identical twins provide a rare opportunity for scientists to study how environment versus heredity influences human development – nurture vs nature.

Such is the case with the Jim twins. Identical twins that were separated at birth after they were placed for adoption. They did not meet one another until they were finally reunited at the age of 39. Even their wives have the same name as both married women named Linda and both divorced their wives several years later. Then both brothers married a second time to women named Betty. They also both had sons who each named – James Allan.

The Jim twins were born in 1940. Each was given the same first name by their respective adoptive parents. They even grew up just 40 miles apart from each other, their lives lived in a kind of parallel existence. Jim Lewis grew up knowing that he had a twin brother. Jim Springer’s mother had told him that his twin had passed away as a baby. Both had a brother named Larry and a dog called Toy. They shared the same interests in school – mathematics and woodwork – and both hated spelling. They shared a common interest in mechanical drawing and block lettering.

Both ended being heavy chain smokers and even owned the same make of car – a Chevrolet. They took vacations and went to the same Florida beach resort. Even so, they never encountered each other at the time. While their employment was not identical, their jobs were similar – Jim Lewis worked as a security guard and Jim Springer became a deputy sheriff.

Eventually, Jim Lewis went to an Ohio courthouse seeking contact details for his long-lost twin brother. They spoke to one another on the phone and subsequently agreed to meet. Even though Jim Springer did not know his twin was still alive, he said he had “always felt an emptiness” growing up.

A study of the two men by Dr Thomas Bouchard, director of the Minnesota Study Project – Twins Reared Apart, discovered that their medical histories and even their brain-wave tests were almost identical. They both suffered a type of migraine headache that began when they were at the age of 18. Both suffer the same degree of disability and the same frequency — and they even use almost identical words to describe it. The cause may be far more biological than doctors in the field have believed. The twins also scored nearly identical on a personality test. During that study, when asked to create a picture, they even drew the exact same thing.

“We even use the same slang,” Jim Lewis notes. “A lot of times, I’ll start to say something, and he’ll finish it!” Researchers have said this phenomenon can be attributed to the twins having remarkably similar brain waves. This causes the perception that some identical twins “think alike.” One has to wonder if there are genetic influences that affect our life choices.

Information about twins is being gathered and analyzed globally. Most of the Scandinavian countries maintain a twin registry. The Swedes, for instance, have data on 26,000 pairs of twins, dating back as far as 1886. In Rome, more than 15,000 pairs of twins are registered with the pioneering Gregor Mendel Institute for Medical Genetics and Twin Studies. And here in the United States, there is another one at the National Academy of Sciences — National Research Council’s Twin Registry. That director is Zdenek Hrubec. He keeps tabs on 16,000 pairs of male twins, in which both have served in the military.

There are an estimated 100 million twins in the world. Identical twins are called monozygotic twins because they develop from a single fertilized egg that later divides to produce two embryos that are genetically identical. About 3.5 identical twins occur in every 1,000 live births, a rate that has remained constant without regard to socio‐economic factors or even individual characteristics such as maternal age. In extremely rare cases (usually involving some chromosomal abnormalities), twins of opposite genders are born. Only one in three twin births produces identical twins. Much more common are fraternal twins. This occurs when two eggs are fertilized about the same time. Genetically speaking, these “twins” are no more similar than any other siblings.

There is some progress in adoptionland – identical twins are rarely separated and reared apart today. Thanks to more enlightened welfare policies and changing social attitudes that have removed the social disgrace that was once associated with illegitimacy.

There is much more information than I have shared here in this New York Times article – LINK>Twins Reared Apart: A Living Lab.

Nature Provides

I listened to a message delivered on Mother’s Day by a man from Africa who made the point that Nature provides for needs even before they are needed. He said – When you were born, I did not hear you praying for the breastmilk. When you were in the womb, you were supplied with all of the nutrients you received actively. Receiving that from fluid. As soon as you stepped out into life, that knowing of life went ahead of you and provided breastmilk from your mother for you. You didn’t pray for that. You didn’t decree for that. Life went ahead of you, providing what you needed before you would need it. Before we are born, mother’s first breastmilk contains the Colostrum that is needed to immunize your body. Life goes ahead of you, providing the air you need to breathe.

At some point he said – You cannot pray to God to save you from the storm, when God is the storm. If God is all there is, it includes Itself. The storm is simply what Life is trying to express through you and as you. Don’t tell God to fix the storm of problems in your life.

That has had me actively contemplating what this means in regard to domestic infant adoptions. The infant is denied their mother’s breastmilk (at least in most cases, there are probably exceptions, where the mother does this even if the infant is being adopted). Yet this is a powerful, spontaneous, creative, loving and intelligent universe. It is an ever-giving, ever-blessing universe. Fine tuning Itself. It is all that is, so adoption must be part of that, it cannot be otherwise (as much as it pains me to admit this).

Yet, also today I read this from a childhood adoptee – My adopted parents and I had a terrible relationship. I was an undiagnosed autistic with various sensory issues and special interests, they were conservative Christians convinced my special interests (mainly classic rock & heavy metal) were demonic. My struggles and their parenting clashed constantly, resulting in me being out of the home during most of my 13-18 years. I haven’t spoken to them since early 2016. My birth mother told me two weeks before my 24th birthday last year that she “wished she’d have swallowed me”, at which point I cut contact.

Mother’s Day is a bit hard for me. I was a momma’s boy as a kid, and 0/2 of my mothers care for me, or are proud of me. I wish I had a mom to bring flowers to, and thank for always being there for me, but the truth is, neither of them were. I spent most of my teens in group homes, and most of my big life milestones I went through alone.

My mother in law is amazing, and has been supportive of me so deeply since she has come to know me. I thank her every chance I get. I appreciate her so very much, but still sometimes, it feels like something, no, someone is missing. When my wife is lonely, or upset, or excited, she calls her mom. And when I’m in a whole other state, alone (as my wife is away doing grad school at another program), I sometimes wish I had a mom to call.

Certainly, Life has provided him with places to go. Life has provided him with a wife who’s mother is good to him as well. This is a hard one for me to work through but I don’t doubt the truth behind it all. Life goes ahead of you, providing what is needed, before it is needed. That is some kind of cold comfort that can warm a heart that has grown cold with life’s difficulties.

Being Fatherless

From Huffington Post LINK>I Was Told My Father Was A ‘Deadbeat.’ After He Died, I Found Out Everything I Knew About Him Was Wrong. “In the foster care system, being a fatherless daughter was the status quo.” by TJ Butler.

Growing up, all I knew about my father was that he was a “deadbeat.” My parents divorced when I was 4. He was a musician, playing bass in rock and country bands ― the only job he’d ever had ― and child support payments were always contentious. I remember Mom complaining that Dad would show up to the court hearings wearing torn jeans and T-shirts. In one hearing in the ’80s, she was awarded less than $70 for two children, based on his income. (blogger’s note – I remember being awarded $25/mo, when I didn’t ask for child support at my divorce because I knew he would never pay it and I wasn’t going to spend my life in court fighting for it.)

When I was a few years older, my younger sister and I spent an occasional weekend with him. I have little recollection of the infrequent visits, but I have colorful memories of his apartment. Framed Beatles albums covered the walls, sharing space with antique Civil War memorabilia and his many bass guitars. My stepmother, who I thought of only as “my father’s new wife,” was beautiful; the coolest adult I’d ever met. When I got my first period at 10, she was the one who explained how to use tampons.

Like my father, my mother entered a new relationship shortly after my parents divorced. But her boyfriend was an alcoholic, prone to verbal abuse and physical violence. At 13, I ended up in foster care, living in group homes and residential children’s centers. There was little talk of family reunification during those years; the night I left my mother’s house at 13 turned out to be the last time I ever slept there.

The group homes and children’s residential centers where I lived during my teens focused on independent living. As I neared 18, I learned about adulting: grocery lists, budgeting money for rent and utilities, and how to write a resume. In the system, communication with family members is regulated. Since I didn’t grow up with him and he didn’t seem interested, none of my counselors or my social worker encouraged me to have a relationship with my father. Being fatherless was just another box to check when I filled out questionnaires for therapy.

When I aged out of foster care, I was angry, but it was directed inward. Rather than hurting others, I hurt myself. There were drugs and alcohol, body piercings and tattoos, and years of nude modeling. A decade later, I had an epiphany that I couldn’t continue the way I was living and quit the adult business. I took out my piercings and had my most visible tattoos removed. I finished a BA in management, secured a corporate job with good benefits, and married my wonderfully supportive husband.

When my father died in 2011 of Parkinson’s with Lewy body dementia, I didn’t go to his funeral. My feelings were confusing. Why was I sad that a man I hardly knew passed away? It took some time to realize that I wasn’t crying over the loss of a father. Instead, it was the realization that now he’d never be able to change his mind and become my dad.

Moving forward, she decided she wanted to meet her half-brother. Rather than admit that she planned to drive 700 miles to see him out of the blue, she told him she had “a writing thing” near him and asked if he wanted to meet for coffee while she was in town. He agreed. She was excited and nervous, and eager to learn about what life was like growing up with their father. He began to fill in the blanks about their father. The person she’d known little about transformed from a deadbeat into a man. She learned how good-natured he was before he got sick and about how their house had been the magnet for kids in the neighborhood to hang out. He told her that he could see a lot of their father in her face. Since she felt she didn’t resemble the people on her mother’s side, she was thrilled to finally look like someone she was related to. (blogger’s note – this is a common experience among adoptees in reunion as well – having a genetic mirror.)

She goes on to share – I began seeing a therapist to work out some issues with my mother. Although it wasn’t family therapy and we didn’t connect, my perspective changed dramatically. I saw her as a flawed human, rather than simply a bad mother. This new way of thinking answered many questions about why I ended up in foster care and why she chose not to let me come home. This clarity has brought me some closure. She ends with how meeting her half-siblings was “about connecting with a family who welcomed me with open arms. Spending time with them gave me something that wasn’t even on my radar to wish for. For the first time in my life, it felt like I belonged somewhere.”

Forbidden Love

Art by Aaron Aldrich

Shane Bouel wrote a piece for Medium with different artwork – you can go to the LINK>Forbidden Love to read the whole thing and see his art. I know the point he is making is true. It not only applies to the original genetic parents and the obstacles adoptive parents might place in the way of adoptees making contact but in my own family’s experience, can also apply to an adoptee who falls in love and wants to marry someone who the adoptive mother disapproves of.

Shane writes that he asked Chat GPT to name the love that others who love you won’t allow you to have. Forbidden love is a term used to describe the love that is craved by your heart but disallowed by those who claim to love you. It encompasses the affection that is deemed unacceptable or disapproved of by society, family, or even by the very people who are supposed to support you. It could be hindered by various factors such as age, social status, religion, or cultural dissimilarities, making it a complex and nuanced experience. The unrelenting yearning to pursue this love can be excruciatingly painful and often difficult to overcome, as the heart’s desire stubbornly persists. When faced with this conundrum, it is imperative to weigh the possible benefits of pursuing the love against the potential repercussions that could befall.

I agree with him when he (or was it ChatGPT ?) writes – “No parent, adoptive or otherwise, has the right to dictate who their child loves. Love is a personal emotion that should not be regulated by external forces.” He goes on to note – “If an adoptee finds themselves smitten with someone, it is critical for their adoptive parents to display open-mindedness and support. Should the adoptee be an adult, they have the autonomy to make their own choices regarding their relationships.” In the case of the relative I am aware of, they did just that. It was sad to see the wedding marred by the dissension.

If adoptive parents are disregarding their adoptee’s feelings and experiences in favour of their own beliefs and desires, this could potentially be a sign of narcissistic behavior. (Nevertheless, it is important to keep in mind that making a diagnosis of narcissism necessitates a professional evaluation by a qualified mental health expert.) Regardless of whether the behavior is labelled as narcissistic or not, dictating and dominating who someone can love is not a healthy or appropriate way to conduct a relationship and can have detrimental effects on the adoptee’s emotional well-being. It is imperative for adoptive parents to not only listen to but also respect their adoptee’s feelings and experiences and support them in making their own decisions regarding relationships.

From an esoteric perspective based on karma, the idea of in the “best interest” of the child, it is generally accepted concept that adoption aims to offer a safe and stable home environment to a child who may not have access to one otherwise. I will admit that in the case of my relative, it is likely true that my sister could not offer him a “safe” home environment but we’ll never know, will we ? It was her decision from the beginning to surrender her child for adoption. I was closely involved with her during the months of her pregnancy. Now, that I also know the rest of the story, I understand why she made that decision (it was a combination of both of our parents having been adopted as babies as well as the inconvenient truth – for her – of who his father actually was).

Shane notes – “If the adoptee’s life path towards finding true love and transcendence doesn’t align with the adoptive parent’s expectations, it doesn’t necessarily mean that the adoption was unsuccessful or of little value.” I would have to agree in the case of my relative’s adoption. It is still sad that it all broke down at the time of his wedding. I agree with Shane on this point – adoptees deserve to be supported and nurtured in their pursuit of true love and fulfilment,

He says that adoptees may be lied to or misled about their biological family. This was certainly the case for my relative. I will give his adoptive mother credit for this much – she went above and beyond – to discover for him who his actual father was. I will always be grateful to that woman for that much.

He ends with this disclaimer about using ChatGPT for this piece – “The psychosocial damage caused by AI responses from a socially systemic viewpoint can be quite significant. When we interact with AI systems, we expect them to behave in a way that is human-like, or at least, rational and objective. However, AI systems are not human and do not have the same level of emotional intelligence or cultural context that humans possess.” Furthermore, “When AI systems are designed using biased or incomplete data, just like society, there is likely to be continued perpetuating biases and inequalities in their responses. This can further marginalize and discriminate against already vulnerable groups, including adoptees.” He adds – “I believe that an AI system that is trained by adoptees could provide valuable insights and support for adoptees and their families and society.”

He indicates – “I am seeking funding or support for the development and implementation of this system, including research, programming, and outreach efforts. I believe that this project has the potential to make a meaningful impact on the lives of adoptees and their families. If this sounds like you, or you can help please get in touch.”

Forgiving Parents

It occurs to me that not only adoptees (who have a multitude of reasons) but probably most people has some issue with their parents that they would be better off forgiving. I know as much as I loved and valued my two parents (both adoptees) some of the discussion points in the graphic above would apply. One of my Facebook friends shared this and I immediately recognized it as relevant to the adoption related issues I cover in this blog and to my own experience of being parented.

My own parents most likely had unresolved trauma – whether they were aware of it or not. My mom seems to have been somewhat aware of her own adoption related trauma. My dad seemed to block it out of his consciousness and believed he probably didn’t want to know the truth about how he ended up adopted (he referred to my mom’s search as potentially “opening up a can of worms” – fisherman that he was).

When my mom married my dad, she didn’t know how to cook or keep a house clean. Her adoptive mother just didn’t have the patience to teach her. Therefore, she was determined to teach her daughters the skills that my dad taught her and that she refined over many years. We had chores to contribute to keeping the house clean, including sometimes washing the dishes and sometimes cooking the dinner. She also worked full time outside of the house and so was tired at night.

My mom was a very warm and loving person but her mother was a bit distanced, as indicated by my mom having to call her “mother.” I was born on my maternal adoptive grandparents wedding anniversary which helped to soothe whatever upset my mom conceiving me out of wedlock while still a high school student may have caused them as my were socially active as a banker and his wife. My dad could really trigger me and his anger was frightening, even though he never laid a hand on us. He was outgoing and sociable. Turns out his genetic father was too.

Certainly, my parents did the best they could with what they knew and the limited resources they had. My dad’s adoptive parents were poor and so we always had this extreme contrast with the wealth of my mom’s adoptive parents. My dad’s were very influential in my life, even into my adulthood. The cultural norms when my parents were adopted in the 1930s were sealed records, name and birth certificate changes and presenting one’s adopted kids as if born to the adoptive parents. To my adoptive grandparents credit, both of my parents always knew they were adopted but not much beyond that. The deaths of my adoptive grandparents revealed only some names but those gave me my start in reconnecting the broken threads of our cultural/genetic origins.

To my understanding, any parent who manages to get their children to adulthood relatively “intact” physically, mentally and emotionally has fulfilled their duty as a parent. Anything extra is grace and/or luck.

Betrayal Trauma and Attachment

Two of my friends have recently drawn my attention to issues of attachment and betrayal. One wrote in response to a self-betrayal graphic – The thought to comes to mind is that from a young age children are likely to experience examples of this when parents are perceived (rightly or wrongly) as not acting in their best interest. The possibility of this type of ‘betrayal’ is then opened in their minds and then acted out.

The other provided a LINK> to a Neurobiology of Attachment pdf and specifically pg 4 re:the infant’s brain. Families can recover from childhood emotional wounds when all members discuss openly the mental conditions of the parents as a regular family health routine… growth & compassion for all. We learned that ‘communication’ could actually happen through the placenta, in which the adrenaline and cortisol that’s coursing through the mom’s veins wind up crossing the placenta and affecting the development of the brain. “Our connections with other people are critical for being able to tolerate and regulate our own emotional responses.” “This sense of connection occurs through nonverbal communication.”

This caused me to reflect this morning on my two adoptee parents who were relinquished in infancy by their mothers into closed adoptions. They both died without knowing much of anything about their origins – which fortunately, I now know quite a lot about the people and circumstances, though clearly with the passage of time and the deaths of all 4 of my genetic grandparents, I can never fully know.

In trying to put myself into my parents hearts/minds and inner beliefs related to their adoptions, how could they not feel betrayed by their first/original parents ? They had no way of knowing their mother’s stories or challenges or reasons including being coerced (and yes, I will always believe that BOTH of my grandmothers were coerced in the 1930s into giving up their firstborn children) that resulted in my parents being adopted. I sincerely believe that no adoptive parent can truly undo this sense of betrayal by the parent in the child they conceived and birthed. In the case of my grandfathers, it is more complicated. Definitely, one never knew he fathered a son and it turns out he never had any other children (it was the same for my mom’s mother who never had any more children).

I’ll never be able to know exactly why my mom’s father abandoned her and her mother (when my grandmother was 4 mos pregnant, nor why he did not come back to rescue her, infant in tow and financially destitute). So, the line above about communication through the placenta could definitely been my maternal grandmother’s mental/emotional struggles without her husband (they were married, in the case of my dad’s parents, they were not – his father was a married man having an affair with a much younger woman).

No matter the reasons, being relinquished for adoption and never knowing why, is betrayal trauma for the adoptee. I do believe modern trends that keep birth parents in the loop or the effects of reunions instigated by adoptee searches are some mitigating factors to the sense of betrayal that, whether they acknowledge it precisely as that or not, exits within the adoptee.

Besides the pdf linked above, I found two articles via google search that may be useful to some of my readers. [1] LINK>The Effects of Attachment and Developmental Trauma and Ways to Heal the Adoptee from the Adoptions from the Heart’s WordPress blog. (Basically, they are an adoption agency). [2] LINK>From Abandonment & Betrayal to Acceptance & Forgiveness: The Gifts of Memoir by Julie Ryan McGue and Judith Ruskay Rabinor at Adoption & Beyond (a 501c3 non-profit child placement agency licensed in both Kansas and Missouri). The reader is welcomed to consider the source when reading either of these.

DNA Traveler

I feel a kinship with this man’s DNA Roots journey. In fact, my family just finished watching the original Roots series based on the book by Alex Haley. I had my own roots journey and like this man, Tim Curran, 23 and Me and Ancestry DNA did help me on my way only I didn’t leave the US in search of family – yet. I’d love to travel to Denmark – from where my paternal grandfather immigrated to the US.

Tim’s story comes to me by way of CNN Travel. LINK>I used DNA analysis to find my birth family and it sent me across three continents. California connects Tim’s story to mine and like me, he found the impenetrable walls of sealed records and tight-lipped officials in that state. Only he was born in 1961 and my dad was born there in 1935. From what I know of my own father’s story, this part of Tim’s story seems to be very similar – “On opposite sides of the world, they had both butted heads with difficult parents and left home at the first opportunity. They both wound up in one of the most free-thinking places on Earth: San Francisco.” On my paternal side, it was San Diego.

I don’t think my paternal grandfather actually butted heads in his family but opportunities in that country for siblings other than the first born were limited. My grandfather was the 5th of 10 children and several of his siblings had already migrated to the US – mostly into the Illinois and Wisconsin areas. My grandfather chose to take a train from NYC, where he landed, and on that train met a woman, much older than him and a private duty nurse, who agreed to marry him. It was mostly a marriage of convenience. When we don’t really know the accurate story, like Tim, I filled in the gaps. I suspect he may have eaten dinners, while his wife was on duty with some person, at the restaurant on the beach where my grandmother was employed by her aunt and uncle. She had a truly evil step-mother and so yes, she fled them and refused to return to Asheville North Carolina, after they traveled to visit her grandfather in California.

Like Tim, I have found my mother’s and father’s families welcoming me – even though they hardly, if even, knew I existed before I made contact. Some were vaguely aware that one or the other of my grandmothers had given a child up for adoption but really didn’t know any more than that. Sadly, it does not appear that my grandfather ever knew he had a son, being the married man having an affair with a much younger woman. But resourceful as she was, she simply handled it ending up employed by the Salvation Army after giving birth in one of their homes for unwed mothers.

Back to Tim’s story (which you can read in full at the LINK at the top of this blog) – his father worked as floor installer in the city’s North Beach neighborhood — where she was a cocktail waitress and dancer. I pictured them meeting while he installed floors in a nightclub where she was working. By all accounts, it must have been a very brief affair. My father was living with a girlfriend, and my mother’s sister says she never once heard my mother discuss my father in any way. Other than the sister and her mother, no one else in her family was told she was pregnant. (I was lucky enough that my grandmother had a photo album with a head shot and the name of my grandfather on the back.) My father’s family says they are 100% certain he was never told. (And my Danish relatives likewise, never knew my grandfather had a son.)

Tim has a large Moroccan family who own a set of neighboring summer homes just yards from the beach. The houses are built on property his grandfather bought nearly a century ago (when the land was thought to be worthless). It is a place where they go to escape the summer heat of Casablanca. In that family, he was able to recognize that many of their personality traits and quirks – how boisterous, curious and sly they are – just like he was as well. When I met a cousin on my paternal line, her appearance could have made her my youngest sister’s twin. That obvious physical appearance connection between our families seems to have mattered greatly to her.

Touring the country of Morocco, the sites he saw were beautiful and awe-inspiring, alien yet weirdly familiar. He experienced the country in a unique and very personal way thanks to his DNA journey: as a son just one generation removed from his father’s homeland. Though Alex Haley was further removed from his own African roots, it must have been deeply emotional to experience the native culture, which was so different from the modern life in the United States that he became a successful author in.

Like Tim, I bravely went looking. I was not content with the not knowing that my parents died with. I had the wherewithall to seek answers and with determination found success. Just as Tim and Alex both did. It is a journey well worth taking and many have written about similar adoptee root journeys that they have taken. Not every effort succeeds. Tim’s parents were both deceased and my grandparents were all deceased. For Alex, the stories lived on, passed down orally from one generation to the next.

Immigrant Adoptee Woes

Today’s story is about a woman who’s birth name is similar but different. *As Alina is my granddaughter’s name, I decided to use her name to disguise the original story (otherwise it is as told). I don’t think we have to make things so hard on immigrants who’s adoption has saddled them with issues like this.

I was adopted at 8 months old through Kids First. My adoptive parents (both Americans) falsified documents and changed my given birth name of *Alina, when they brought me to the US. The only thing they had applied for at the time was a Social Security Card, which was given out in the name my adoptive parents wanted to call me. The US government officials accepted this name, regardless of all of my Russian documentation showing my name as *Alina. My adoptive parents chose to change my name, so I “fit in better” and so people wouldn’t know I was a foreigner.

My adoptive parents were also very open and honest with me about my adoption and my name change, they never hid any details from me or dodged my questions. My whole upbringing though I never liked the name they gave me. It felt fake, misleading, like a false identity, just full-on imposter syndrome. I had asked my adoptive parents on multiple occasions to change my name back to my birth name and they refused every time.

When I turned 15, my world got flipped upside down when I found out I wasn’t actually a citizen of the US. It wasn’t until I was trying to obtain a drivers permit that we found out my adoptive parents had messed up big time (this is unfortunately not uncommon for an immigrant adoptee to experience). Through the very lengthy and expensive process, that I mostly financed on my own, I had an opportunity to change my name back to *Alina for good. Yet my adoptive parents still refused. I tried to explain to them all of my feelings about the situation but they didn’t care. They said I could deal with it when I was 18.

The naturalization process took me almost 4 years, and after a certain point, I was no longer able to change my name. And so, unfortunately at 19 years old I had to swear in as a citizen with this false identity. By this point, I had been going by *Alina at school, work, and in my personal life, but I had to constantly explain my situation to people about the issues with my name and essentially trauma dump on everyone. I am so sick of explaining myself. I am trying now that I am 22 years old to finally get my name back. It is the only thing I have from my culture, my mother, and my home. I have hit quite a road block in the process and due to living in a small town no one seems to have the expertise to help me. They have no idea what to do with an immigrant.

I currently do have full citizenship here in the US. My documents include my naturalization certificate, expired Russian Passport, Russian Birth Certificate, Official Translations, Delayed American Birth Certificate, Social Security Card, and a Drivers License. I have also since gotten married but because of my citizenship documents and status I couldn’t even change my name then.

From my own research on my state’s website the process, it should be possible although lengthy and expensive. I have to have an attorney with me to plead my case to a judge as to why I am requesting the name change. Though I have spoken to quite a few attorneys in my area – every single one of them said they have no idea how to help me or else they want an excessive retainer fee to even look into it.

My current game plan is to create all of the required documentation needed and the requested forms, find an attorney willing to just to stand with me to plead my case, and go through the rest of the process on my own efforts. I sadly don’t understand law very well and I’m getting overwhelmed by the whole process. I have spoken with several clergy members in my state and none of them know how to help me either, since I am wanting to change both my first and last name, plus they don’t know how to get me new citizenship documents in my preferred name.

One recommendation that others may be able to us is – Gregory Luce, an attorney and the founder of LINK> Adoptee Rights Law Center.

Abandonment is a Perception

Perception matters. As we go through our own “adult” stuff and often have to make hard choices, we are not always aware of how our children are perceiving what we had to do. My marriage at 19 ended in divorce after the birth of our daughter a few years later. Eventually, I then left my daughter with her paternal grandmother (about the age of 3), but she eventually ended up with her dad and a step-mother. I made attempts to stay in contact and reassure her always that it never was about her directly but my own problems. Fortunately, we are close today as adults raising children (my grandchildren and two sons I have now from a subsequent marriage who’s ages are close to that of my grandchildren). I have faced that as a child her perception was understandably about having been abandoned, even though it was never my intention to never to have her under my own roof again during her childhood.

Today, I read about a woman with somewhat similar concerns. She left her child’s father when her daughter was only a year and a half old. She gave her mother legal guardianship of her daughter as she was going through a really rough time in her life. It’s shameful and it’s tough to face these kinds of reality. Finally, this woman met someone with whom she has been able to create a whole and loving family with her daughter and a subsequent baby brother from her new relationship. This daughter is now 9 years old and there are understandably “issues”.

Her daughter has ADHD and a fiery personality. Also some mood and behavioral problems exasperated by her abandonment trauma. She tends to be self-centered (normal) and melodramatic (from me). She can be very mean and unforgiving at times. She easily gets stuck on feelings of being left out or forgotten, even while we’re actively spending time with her.

One response suggested – Behavior is communication. Give each other grace. You are not the choices you made.

Another offered a perspective which I find valid – She has emotions that she is shoving down because she does not know how to deal with them. A huge part of healing childhood trauma is to grieve the losses that caused the trauma. For her, it was not having you or her father in her life for those years. My suggestion is that you start working on grieving your losses, and be open and honest with her about it (age appropriately). Let her see that you are in denial, angry, bargaining, sad, and finally accepting of what happened. That will give her permission to explore those feelings that she has inside of herself. I would also suggest a trauma/grief informed counselor.

You were part of your daughter’s wounding, you can play a major part in her healing too. It all starts with the parent healing as an adult. Learning what triggers us, so we can be the calm, consistent adults that our kids need because our calm becomes their calm, our ability to regulate our emotions becomes their ability.

More than one recommended LINK> Trust Based Relational Intervention – which I have seen and mentioned before. TBRI is an attachment-based, trauma-informed intervention that is designed to meet the complex needs of vulnerable children. TBRI uses Empowering Principles to address physical needs, Connecting Principles for attachment needs, and Correcting Principles to disarm fear-based behaviors. While the intervention is based on years of attachment, sensory processing, and neuroscience research, the heartbeat of TBRI is connection.

Someone else suggested mediation. Sometimes a safe person who’s not her parent can help her better understand/hear what you may be trying to communicate (and vice versa). And her suggestion came from personal experience – “I’ve had mediations done with both my and my mother’s therapist, and each time seemed to help shed some light on new aspects of a topic being discussed with our respective therapists.”

And an acknowledgement that I also understand personally – The mere fact that you care so deeply, is absolutely everything. DO NOT ever give up on that. Parenting is so hard, even without the added guilt you carry. All you can do is wake up and do the best you can do for that day.

Finally this from someone who’s been there (and hits me in the guilt place for I have done this too) – I wish my mom had owned her hand in my trauma WITHOUT excuses or trying to push blame onto others. I wish she would have validated my experiences. I wish she would have created and protected a safe space for me to understand and unpack all of the feelings and thoughts I had, preferably with a therapist. I wish she would have spent time one on one with me doing things I cared about, getting to know me deeper. I wish she wouldn’t have told me how hard XYZ was for her, I didn’t care, it wasn’t a competition, I was the helpless child. Even if my mom’s choices were between bad and worse, she was an adult who had brought me with her to that point. I wanted a mom who wanted to BE my mom.

She added – Your bit you wrote about your daughter feeling left out or forgotten hit me like a ton of bricks. That feeling is something I am working on to this day. I felt so out of place with my mom, stepdad, and new baby brother. I knew I was forgettable and honestly with a new baby – replaceable. They felt like a whole little family and I was just the chump she had to come back and get so I could tag along. (blogger’s note – though I never was able to bring my daughter back into my own life fulltime – we did have visits – I did go on to have 2 sons who I have been raising. This caused me to consider how that might feel to her – even though she is an adult with children of her own.)

One more – Focus on being your best self today and in the future. That’s how you can make it up to them, they’re often incredibly wise about this stuff. This way of thinking encourages you to reach a point of acceptance and decide… everyone’s alive, healthy, and you can’t change the past. I think that’s what I would say to my own parents, just sin no more and I don’t want to dwell in the past. (Though there may be times when the wounds bubble back up.)

My own last insight – life is messy, complicated and sometimes very very difficult. We can only acknowledge where we have failed but instead of continually beating ourselves up over that – move forward with being the best person we have managed to be at this time.

It’s Complicated

I didn’t hate motherhood but circumstances robbed me of it with my first child. She ended up being raised by her dad and a step-mother, after I left her temporarily in the care of her paternal grandmother. This morning I was reading an edited extract from Undo Motherhood by Diana Karklin. Stories from women all over the planet about how motherhood was not a welcomed event in their lives.

At the time I left my daughter, it didn’t feel like it was because I didn’t love being her mother, I always did love that but was I committed to it ? Reading these stories today, I wonder at my lack of maturity and sense of responsibility at the time. I think I always expected to do something like my own mother did – get married and immediately have children, while going to work everyday to contribute to the family income. I was also into “having a good time” and all that meant as someone in their early 20s – whether in a marriage or not.

Even so, it’s strange that I married. During my senior year in high school, that had not been my plan. I was going to share an apartment with my best friend. The first time I went out with the man who I would marry and have a child with, I told my mom when I came back from that date that it was never going to work out. Then, he showed me a ring and asked me to marry him and so, I did.

I still think marriage isn’t a good bargain for a woman, even though I then married a second time and had two sons with the man who is my husband today. If anything happens that takes him from me and leaves me yet living, I cannot imagine marrying again. We have now been married a long time and so, this time it worked out but with a bump or two along the way – yet the marriage has been able to endure.

Reading the article in The Guardian today – “The women who wish they weren’t mothers: ‘An unwanted pregnancy lasts a lifetime’ “ – has given me pause in reflecting on my own life. Also today, in the Science of Mind magazine which shares the philosophy of a man named Ernest Holmes who created a practice based upon the philosophies of the world and developments in science, I was also given more pause to reflect on romantic love.

The author, Rev Dr Jim Lockard, reflected on what it means to be human and to have a spiritual nature. Our biological selves seek to procreate, as does all life. Our emotional selves seek connection and to give and receive love with a special other to experience a deep feeling of fulfillment. Our intellectual selves seek to find a partner to share our human experiences and to create a family structure. Our spiritual selves seek to link to another to experience the joining of spiritual identities in relationship.

Clearly on many levels, having children fulfills a lot of those aspects and qualities of life, as much or sometimes more than a romantic partner can. Just as The Guardian piece made clear – it is often our cultures that have set rules and expectations about our adult lives. Even as the rigidity of narrow gender definitions have been rapidly changing, with the overturn of Roe v Wade, many women feel they are being pushed back into another time that they thought was in the past. They may be forced into giving birth, due to whatever reason and circumstance, even though they aren’t craving to fulfill the duties of motherhood. Children do best when they are intended and wanted. When they are not – wounding and trauma are the result. Just as an unwanted pregnancy lasts a lifetime, regardless of how long that initial romantic relationship endures, or even how that one night stand or rape has become imprinted on a woman’s soul, what happens to that child lasts a lifetime as well.

The nature of falling in love is a mixture of biological urges, emotional longings, rational explanations and spiritual connections. To fall in love is to exist in instability and the projection of our unconscious expectations onto another person. Our sense of rational choice is diminished. Many women wake up one day to realize that they fell in love with someone their ego was imagining and not a reality the other person was able to actually be – long term. A man is often free to walk away, leaving a woman forced to carry the burden of their children for at least 2 decades – truly for both the mother’s and the children’s lifetimes. Whether a father does or not is never guaranteed.