Around the World in 180 Days
July 2001Seattle Area
It is now April 2002 and I find myself back in the United States. I reflect back on my journey of 2001 and remember some very fond moments. One I have not told you about is my visit with Cynth, Bill and the two boys (Seth and Tate). I visited them in July and spent time at their cabin in a wonderful spot in the Seattle area.
Cynth picked me up from my hotel and we drove to the cabin. The boys, Seth and Tate, eyed me with suspicion. "Who was this strange speaking lady Mum put into our car?" was the question written all over their little faces.
Seth's birthmom, *C*, came with us. I remember thinking this was bound to be an interesting few days. My first observation was that Cynth and *C* seemed to get along well; they chatted in the front seat very comfortably. This intrigued me, as my own adoption experience was "closed" and even now with my daughter back in my life for 10 years, her parents do not want to know me.
Both Bill and Cynth agreed to an interview and *C*, after long thought, was happy to sit in front of the camera to tell her story also. I was constantly amazed at how the people I interviewed managed to be so natural in front of the camera.
The cabin was nestled in the forest like it was meant to be there. The 4th of July banner and decorations were still up and the day was glorious, as were all the days we were at the cabin.
Cynth presented this beautiful little abode to *C* and me, as we walked from room to room the family memorabilia and the "statement paintings" done by her brother made for a space that was comfortable and relaxing. The boys were full of life and happy to be there and, of course, wanted eats as soon as the door was opened.
The next few days were both relaxing and reflective for me. Watching *C* interact with Seth made me both happy and sad. I missed all that time with Martha (my birthdaughter) and I would have so loved to be able to watch her grow through all the childhood stages. *C* was getting to do this. Seth seemed to sense her and his Mum and Dad at the same time. I observed him sharing his attention with both. What an interesting little boy he was. The times *C*'s feelings were unsettled, he responded to her with sensitivity and affection. She, I noticed, was very quiet at times, wanting to be by herself, stealing away quietly for a while, coming back a little brighter. These times, she confided in me, were used to gather her strength up to go back and be with her son. I carelessly made the statement to her "It must be easier for you to see your son all the time, to watch him grow than to not see him for 20 years." Her reply to me was "No! Wendy it is hard, I have to release him everytime I see him, not just the one time, but every time. It takes me a long time to get over every visit." This was the first time *C* had spent more than a few hours with the family. Bill and Cynth were very respectful and friendly to her. They both said they knew that if it were not for the sacrifice of the birthparents of the boys they would not have them. This raised in them a deep compassion and gratitude. I began to see deeper into open adoption all the while trying to cope with the my"buttons" that were being pushed during this interaction.
Cynth did admit to me that she needed to be in control of the relationship between Seth and his birthmom at this stage in his life and I understood this. I also wondered to what age would this control be there? There were times that Cynth would suggest that Seth take his birthmom for a walk to the water. This was a very nice thing to do as it gave the two of them the opportunity to be alone. I know from other birthmoms in open adoption situations, that this alone time was precious to them, however, not all of them are given the freedom to have it.
I observed at times that Cynth and Bill's mode of discipline with Seth was not what *C* thought she would exercise. During these times I witnessed the obvious discomfort and efforts of self-control that *C* displayed. Many times she would just get up and take a walk. She later admitted to me, when asked, that she was indeed fighting the urge to exercise what she felt should be done. I guess this is a problem that is not confined to open adoptions. Many mothers do not win the fight to overcome the urge to tell their daughters/sons how to raise their kids. *C* did not last the whole time with us. She found it too difficult; too many emotions were surfacing for her all at once. At her request, Bill arranged a bus ticket for her and drove her to the nearest town to catch the bus. I felt sad for her as she reached a private part of me that related to shared experiences. I also admired her for what she had already dealt with in her young life.
The boys were happy little fellows, enjoying diving into the carrot bag to feed the deer that frequented the opening in the forest in front of the cabin and watching the raccoon that boldly came right up onto the deck to chomp on the pasta Cynth left out for them. Tate discovered that they do not like Jello of any flavor. I relished watching the joy they exhibited when the animals came to say "Hey!! Where's my carrot?"
The day came when Siri was to visit, at least the day we thought she might come. Siri was a frequent visitor at adoption.. The arrangements had not been firm as she and Cynth kept missing each other's messages online and no phone existed in the cabin. Neither Cynth nor I knew what Siri looked like so we were reasonably surprised when this cheery lady knocked on the cabin door. She had ventured out on this adventure to find Cynth and meet me, not knowing where she was going or if she could get into the gated cabin complex. Proud of herself she explained to us it was out of character for her to take such an adventurous undertaking.
We ended up having a wonderful time chatting on the wooden benches near the lake. This darling lady was such a happy person, so at peace with her life and all that came with it. Her adoptive parents were well loved by her and she by them. She seemed to me to have no hang-ups about her adoption. We discussed the times she confided in others, on adoption forums, her feelings regarding her adoption and was met with statements like "Well you just have not processed your stuff yet - you have to have some anger in you!" This upset her, as nothing she said could make herself understood or how she felt. I believed her! I experienced a bubbly and shining woman who was sensitive and showed that she had a handle on her deep feelings.
I remember thinking that my birthdaughter had told me she had no problem with her adoption when we first met and through the 10 years we have known each other. Recently she has been facing some deep-seated emotions that have some adoption issues to the surface for her. This is not to say that this happens with ALL adoptees. Siri, for one, has not felt this. Her family was loving and feeling. I am now wondering what makes the difference? Why is it that Siri still maintains this exuberance for all that has passed in her life and others do not? Is it nature or nurture or a combination of both?
Cynth's Mum and Dad (Susan and Ron) popped in for a surprise visit. Ron did not stay for long but her Mum did. I really liked Susan. She was friendly and warm, and shared experiences with me that were private and sacred to her. I felt honored to be trusted this way. Cynth later told me that I had a positive affect on her Mum regarding birthmothers and this made me feel good. Watching her read to her grandbabies took me back to my darling little Oliver (my grandbaby) and the image of him bringing a book to me to be read. I missed his little presence in my life.
My time with this family gave me much to think about. I saw that even open adoption holds its good and bad, but if I had to choose between the two, I would surely go for being able to watch my child grow - to know that my child knew who I was, what I looked like, and have an ongoing relationship. There has to be way less fantasy thinking on behalf of the growing child in this kind of adoption. The birthmother/birthfather are not "ghosts" but a real image, a real presence in the tapestry of the lives involved.
My love and hugs to you all,
Wendy
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