Wednesday, January 31, 2007

First Meet

I never did talk with my parents about adoption. Sometime during my eighth month I agreed to it. I said ok. I gave in. Other people told me why I should, counselors, social workers, ministers, my boyfriend and my parents. I shut up.

When I told my folks that Joy had contacted me and I was going to meet her, they asked me if I was sure I wanted to do that. I said yes. Everyone was surprised because I'd held it all inside of me for so long. I never shared what I felt. There had been no reason to share. It was all pain and helplessness. There was nothing anyone else could or would do because everyone else thought adoption was the "right thing to do".

All the lies of the adoption machine were still in place in everyone else's heads. Actually they were very active in my head as well. But my head and my heart were on different programs.

My memories are all jumbled now. I think Joy and I had been in contact about three months when I had the opportunity to return to the west coast for my grandfather's memorial service. She suggested we meet in a coffee shop.

It's funny to look back and remember worrying about how I looked. I wanted her to be favorably impressed -- attracted to me. I don't think I ever was more careful about how I looked, even though I was only wearing (pink)shorts and a (white)sweater. I think. I just remember looking in the mirror and worrying before I left. I wanted to look like me, but better.

I found the coffeeshop and recognized I'd seen the building before but never been in it. Did we meet in the parking lot?

I just remember she felt nervous to me. We both seemed apprehensive. I remember sitting across from her, looking straight at her. Her brow ridge looked like her father's. And just like she had told me on the phone; she had blue eyes to my brown.

I don't remember what we said. It was surreal. We'd lived just minutes from each other, but in different realms. Now we were in contact and I lived 2000 miles away. I was again rebelliously taking off from my parent's home, this time to see my child who was now a mother herself.

She had a whole life that was foreign to me. I felt like an invader, afraid to claim her, waiting for her cues. On the phone she had told me she wasn't angry. And she wasn't looking for a mother. She already had one. She told me she lied a lot.

At this first meeting I probably didn't say much, like usual. I was at such a loss.

I didn't want to scare her off. I believed all those lies about her wonderful chosen baby status. None of it made sense though. I had a lot to lose and I wanted to say the right thing. We were on storm tossed seas.

It was a brief and odd meeting. I'm glad we met. Next one will be better. OXOXOXOOOOO

9 comments:

kim.kim said...

First meetings are surreal. You have a fabulous daughter. I'm glad you are still together 16 or more years later.

Mia said...

I'm glad too. I learn a lot from the two of you.

Joy said...

It's so weird to read this from your point of view.

Where our memories differ and where they intersect.

I remember the pink shorts, I was surprised at how conservative you looked.

I had worked at that crappy diner for a while as a teenager.

We went to the park. I remember you talking a lot and it being a really long meeting.

I remember having my first freak out after that meeting. I didn't react well to some of the things you said. But it didn't hit me until later.

I don't remember saying I wasn't looking for a mother, but I have no doubt I said it, I remember saying it to someone else at the time and them upbraiding me, and me feeling shocked, I thought that was what I was supposed to say.

I thought I was being good saying that.

I don't remember saying I lied a lot either, but it definetly sounds like something I would have said, but not real lies like I have a million dollars or I didn't eat the last cookie, weird evasive lies, Lying was a big part of growing up for me, we lied all the time in my afamily, It's weird even my friends would notice and I would say, "no, it's all right, it's an agreement we have"

I remember knowing without a doubt you were the right woman, I recognized you, it was weird. And Tomtom was there all roly-poly.


I had a really crappy outfit on. I remember driving over there and thinking, I hope she doesn't try to have sex with me.

Weird hunh? I never thought that about B. luckily it wasn't a problem, I always think of that thought now though when I hear about GSA, and I thought that before I ever saw you, I remember thinking everything was happening so fast.

I remember that being the first time you told me about your husband's feelings and that went over like a lead zepplin.

Wow, that was a long time ago.

Ungrateful Little Bastard said...

Wow. 16 years later. Just.... wow
~Theresa

Being Me said...

I REAALllyyyy wanted to look conservative. It's funny I don't remember what you were wearing at all, just your face. Being in that part of town was a little creepy for me. It reminded me of the neighborhood where I visited a girl the couselor sent me to right after you were born because we were in the "same situation". I went once to get out of my parents' house. Just as creepy being in her parents house as it was in mine.

I remember you asking me (on the phone) if I wanted to have sex with you. That struck me as odd. It looks weird the way I wrote that. It wasn't like an invitation, more of an anxiety. I thought, "What do you think I am? Crazy?" But I just said, "no". GSA was Ezzy's thing, I just played along.

Well, you and I had to start where we were. I'm glad that's behind us.

Joy said...

God,

I can't believe I told you about that here all this time I thought I had hidden it.

Oh jeez, how embarrassing.

Weird how for no reason the fear came up with you but not B.

You gave me no reason to think you were lesbian.

I think this conversation has surpassed my comfort level.

No more sex talk.

suz said...

wow. J, I loved this post. thank you for sharing. i cannot even write right now. something about it has really shakene me up.

oh, i remember, the wanting to look good. yeah, i know that too. i am too fat. lol. my daughter has an eating disorder. we would look like laurel and hardy. i am afriad she wont like me cuz i am a bigger girl. her amom is a peanut.

yeah, i know that feeilng of wanting to be liked.

Being Me said...

I thought GSA stood for Girl Scouts of America!

Being Me said...

Ezzy was a Daisy Girl Scout back in those days.