I know she wants to hear from me and I always promise that I won’t let so much time go between calls. But I do and I don’t know why, although I have my theories.
I always tell her she can call me whenever she wants; that no time would be a bad time to hear from her. But she never calls. She says she doesn’t know my schedule and doesn’t want to interrupt. Well…after my kids go to bed, I’m free for hours and hours and she knows that so really, she could call if she truly wanted to. I don’t get it. If you WANT to talk to someone, you call them. It’s just not that hard.
So I kind of wonder if this is perhaps, subconsciously, my way of trying to force her hand. To get her to call me—just once—by making my calls to her so far apart. Maybe, somewhere in my head, I think that a call from her would be a show of commitment on her end or a way of showing me that she cares enough to do something she clearly finds uncomfortable. For me. Just once.
Or maybe I just don’t want to take our relationship to the next level, a likely result of more frequent calls from me, for fear of rejection. Because you know…that could happen at any time. I could do or say the wrong thing and that would be it. Cut off. And despite my resistance to further extending myself, it would be a huge and painful loss to not have her in my life.
The thing is, you can read books and memoirs and stories about other birthmoms and adoptees and their feelings and the subtleties and intricacies of the relationship dance they do and it will still never completely apply to your own situation—so in many ways, they’re not that helpful and sometimes, they serve to make me even more apprehensive.
The one thing I really do want is for her to sign the papers so I can have access to my original pre-adoptee birth certificate. I’ve asked before and she evaded my request completely. I am, frankly, very afraid to bring it up again. I don’t want to push the woman who once accused me of “ambushing” her (which, for the record, is absurd. I did no such thing).
The other thing that I would really like would be to know my half-brothers. They still don’t know I exist.
I have no idea what’s going on in her head but she, of all people, ought to know that things rarely stay a secret forever. That said, and at the risk of sound cold or morbid, you can bet that after she dies, I will be contacting them.
But therein lies the problem. When she dies, I won’t even know. Her sons won’t know to contact me because in her life, as far as they know, there IS no daughter to call. Legally, I’m nobody to her or them…and my fake birth certificate bitterly confirms that fact.
The funny thing is that after reading what I’ve written, I realize that I do harbor resentment about the fact that from the moment I was born I’ve never had a say in any of this and as an adult, I STILL find myself in a situation over which I have no real control.
Related Post: What About MY Rights?