[Janeytwo]

Hey Maggie!

I apologize for not writing sooner. Thought I'd stop by and say "hey" :-)

really had no idea just how much garbage I had to bury just to survive. It was, and still is, very scary. It completely overwhelms me sometimes.

I was thinking as I read this of a scene from one of my favorite movies Castaway. It's the scene where Tom Hanks is still on the island and has to knock out his bad tooth because it's infected and threatening his health.

That's sort of how I see all of this now in retrospect. As a matter of fact it was last year at this time when all of this surfaced for me and I would come to the computer and hit "adoption" on my seach engine and there would be various forums and then I'd get scared and click out of the net and then sit at my computer and mumble too myself, trying to get up the courage to join the fray as it were. Because even though - just like you - I honestly had no idea how much flotsam and jetsom was floating on the sea of denial with me.........well still I knew it was going to be frigging painful and that it was going to knock me completely sideways and flatten me. Just like it did to Tom Hanks in that scene.

Just wanted to relay that so you'd know I understand completely what you're saying.

The pain. Huh. I had tried lately to stuff it all back down into my little "basement". I used to be able to do that with ease. The monstrous truth would bang on the basement door "LET ME IN!!"'and I'd just.....float away....tra lah lah and clean the floor or polish the woodwork.

But since opening the door? When I tried to stuff all the pain back down where I wanted it to once again belong? Well....it was like standing at the basement door with my shoulder against it trying to hold back a team of commandos busting through from the other side.

Impossible. The pain had arrived and I had to deal with it and all of the truth it brought/continues to bring.

The funny thing is, Maggie? Each and every time in this last year that it's knocked me flat (and a couple weeks ago I thought it would finally kill me truth be told)....each time it's knocked me down....I scramble back up....bruised, bloodied and shaken but I do scramble back up. Definately God working there...nothing to do with me - believe me.

Sigh....I wish I could say that it's like writing a check on a bill. The thing arrives in the mail, I say, "Ooo Boy! Gottah pay this piece of doo-doo!" and then I wince and whine but finally pay the sucker and forget it.

But it's not that kind of thing. I fear...no...I am sure, that it is a lifetime companion. One that I must learn to live with but also one I can learn from.

Much hugs your way today!

[reneeplotz]

i was given up for adoption 42 years ago and i really cant say i know how you feel but i can tell you my life was just as full as it would have been with my birthparents. I grew up knowing that i was adopted, in fact we had announcment cards that said Hi im adopted! my mother would tell me stories about how they went to the adoption agency and told them how much they wanted a little girl with blond hair and green eyes, and how happy they were when they got the call to come and pick me up. It was a great way to understand and to know that the woman who put me up for adoption gave me the most wonderful gift of all...a loving family.