Just Do It The Right Way ….

 

From time to time, I feel that I’m sort of expected to address how I feel about adoptions. Almost eleven years of going through one firsthand, I feel I’ve earned my right to speak my piece on the matter. The time we’ve been embroiled in this whirlwind makes me physically ill when I think about not only what we’ve lost and missed out on, but how much time and energy and strength and love it has taken to have made it this far.

I just think adoptions should be morally and ‘humanely’ carried out. And if those that took part in this adoption thought they were doing the right thing, then why was it all done in secret, in the dark?

Why was it done in a rush?

Why was it handled by everyone but my sister?

Why was Lupita given ANYTHING?

Why didn’t this adoptive ‘mother’ not put her master’s degree in psychology to good use and realize that my sister was alone and afraid, and that she shouldn’t be making those kinds of life-altering decisions without her family behind her for love and support? Was she so desperate for a child that she chose to look the other way when alarm bells should have been going off?

She took advantage of my sister at her most vulnerable time of her life, and you can’t convince me she didn’t know the destruction it would leave behind. In my opinion, she just wanted to get her hands on the one thing she could never have on her own, no matter what it took. I can’t say the one thing she couldn’t buy because let’s not forget all the ‘goodies’ Lupita got.

My niece was not for sale, and to this day this awful couple have her believing that she is their daughter, not telling her that we fought to bring her home since the very hour we found out. They are still playing this charade, and it hurts me to think of how my niece will feel when this is all finally brought to light because every thing done in the dark, shall be brought to light at some point. They’re only going to be able to play house for just a bit longer, because the moment she turns eighteen their paperwork and ‘exhibits’ aren’t going to matter. My niece will have the legal right to know everything and to finally reunite with the family she was meant to be a part of. A family who still hangs her stocking up every year knowing she won’t even see it for some time to come.

We have scrapbooks we have made for her, letters we have written to her, special gifts that one day we hope we will see her unwrap. We’ve set aside family heirlooms, we’ve made a sort of time-capsule. We’re doing everything that they can’t take from us. We’re still doing all we can, and as the family ‘spokesperson’ I’m forced to be the squeaky wheel because until our accusations are addressed, I will not stop sending complaints, making calls, leaving messages, sending emails, doing whatever it takes because we deserve answers.

I keep saying that the more I find out about adoption, the less I want to know, (candidly) because there are so many horror stories. It’s like you can’t ever ” unfeel ” the emotions that such a sensitive subject brings out of you. There needs to be reform, there needs to be awareness.

For the record, I am very much in favor of adoption. When the circumstances are right, when all parties involved are in it together, when all other options have been exhausted, there are no living relatives or other necessary resources, when nothing is being hidden, when gifts aren’t being given or received, pretty common sense, unwritten moral and ethical standards. Adoption should be the last option possible. The breaking up of a family is very serious, the effects are a life-sentence, and it literally changes one’s very identity. It needs to be talked through, counseling should be required, the laws desperately need to be changed.

Like most things in life, there’s a ‘right’ way and a ‘wrong’ way to do things. Human decency never goes out of style and if all isn’t on the up and up, then I have to say, I cannot be in favor of adoptions such as those.

It’s a fine line, and it’s sharp.

The bottom line is; be careful, be honest, be genuine, be mindful of feelings and the short as well as long-term effects that inevitably follow. Don’t ‘ hold a child hostage ‘ from their family. Realize that children are human beings, they have family traditions and bloodlines, they have a right to know who they truly are. Don’t swoop in like a vulture or sneak in like a thief in the night …. there is just no way to justify that.

Think it through, and not ‘ just ‘ for you.

 

 

 

Lupita, Do You Wear Your Bracelet? ….

There are many things that make our story unique and unbelievable.

The whole set up was exactly that, a setup.

Please correct me if I’m wrong, but when you set up an adoption and receive gifts and trips, and who knows what else, that IS selling a baby, isn’t it?.

You don’t just get Tiffany & Co. jewelry and a plane ticket to a baby shower and fancy dinners when you’re just there for “moral support.” Keep in mind that Lupita was supposedly on my sister’s side, meanwhile having no problem reaping the benefits of my sister’s pain and confusion.

My sister, the mother of my niece, never accepted any such gifts nor was she offered such royal treatment like Lupita.

Of course there are so many questions that burn in my mind, but one of the biggest is; does Lupita wear that engraved bracelet ( my sister’s wasn’t engraved or accepted by her ) that she was given by the couple that have my niece?

Does she go out on the town and flash her shiny jewelry, hiding the fact that she was one of those directly responsible for the utter destruction of a family?

I wonder if she wears it to feel more important, to impress her few, if any, friends.

I also wonder if she wears that bracelet at all. I wonder if she hides it in a shoebox in a closet or in the bottom drawer of a jewelry box. I wonder if she hides it away, acting like nothing ever happened. I wonder what she stuffed her face with at dinners with the adoptive couple, my sister not even being there. I wonder if she flew first class or coach to the baby shower she was the guest of honor at.

What kind of person thinks it’s okay to profit from the agony and misery of others?

We all feel extra betrayed because we knew our enemy, very well. We lived directly across the street from this heartless, self-serving, manipulative wolf in sheep’s clothing.

I want to know if those “things” she got were worth it.

How dare she do something like this and then have the audacity to accept anything?

How can she even sleep at night?

“Adoption and self-determinism”

LoveForGrace:

By: Judith Land

Originally posted on Adoption Detective | A True Story by Judith Land:

edward-steed-a-man-on-a-raft-paddles-away-from-a-desert-island-with-a-tree-stump-and-p-new-yorker-cartoon When is the last time something struck you as being funny? Finding humor in daily circumstances adds joy to our lives. “A man on a raft paddles away” by Edward Steed is a highly amusing cartoon because it epitomizes self-determinism, independent behavior, and freedom of choice. Which character are you?

Self-determinism is a basic God-given right and a natural freedom inherent in all people, regardless of the circumstances under which we live. Greek philosophers identified self-determinism as the capacity to manage one’s own affairs, make one’s own judgments, provide for oneself, and the independent determination of one’s own fate and course of action; the power and the ability to make a decision for oneself without intimidation, constraint, compulsion, influence from the outside, and immunity from the arbitrary exercise of authority; an ancient doctrine based on the concept of a free will and the principle that everyone has the right to…

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‘ True Love ‘ …. Spelled Out ….

I’m stuck in thought about my niece and I miss her. I miss her so incredibly much.

I just want to talk to her.

I just want to sit and read to her.

I want to teach her.

I want to take her around the world as well as the parks, gardens and special places I go nearby.

I want to paint our fingers and toes and laugh about silly nothings.

I want her to be here in her socks and jammies, with blankets and piles of pillows on our gorgeous midnight blue carpet for our movie nights having homemade popcorn, surrounded by candles, carrying on one of our many family traditions.

We all feel this emptiness, this longing, this overwhelming ‘ want.’

No matter how happy we are, how blessed we feel, nothing is ever quite complete. It’s a constant battle to balance hope and hate, epiphanies and confusions ….

Nerve-wracking is an understatement, and all we can do is wait. (Here is where I take in a really deep breath and exhale slowly as I still try to get a grip on this, still in disbelief.)

None of this is fair, and I don’t want to have to deal with any of it any more.

The helplessness I feel is slow and silent, tucked away because I have no time to break down.

I’m tired, I’m irritated, I’m frustrated, AND I will happily never give up. (Here is where I smile.)

If you never saw ‘ true love ‘ filled with passion and fueled by faith, here it is, literally spelled out ….

Like I Was Never Shattered At All ….

I have gotten up when I was literally held down with force….

My heart has healed seamlessly, like it was never ripped out at all….

Amidst the greatest pain, I have also found the greatest comfort of peace….

Where I used to be full of anger, only a calmness remains….

Once wanting to scream and cry, now I smile silently as I close my eyes and envision what the future will bring….

Fear led to courage, courage to strength, strength to fulfillment….

Everything unclean and toxic washed away, now protected and safe, mine is an energy others crave….

Despair has made me ever mindful of the flowers in bloom, led through this darkness by the dimmest of lights….

Where once I looked over and felt lonely and used, I now look straight forward enticed by understanding….

In a time strangled by sorrow, I embrace joy, I accept my blessings, I believe with a faith unwavering….

It cut like a rusty, jagged blade, and I rejoice; like I was never shattered at all….

…. ‘ What Are You Running From ‘ ?….

I’m the type of person that although I have a loving heart and live with compassion, intent, and humility, I don’t mingle outside of my circle. I don’t trust anyone (can you blame me?) so it’s hard to let anyone in. I reach out to help, but at a distance, extremely cautious.

Lately, I haven’t been able to get something off my mind. I find myself reminiscing about a certain conversation with a certain someone who forced me to think and look as deep into my soul and spirit than I ever had to, and it took place during a fortuitous encounter.

It was the middle of the night, when a man came over to me. We locked eyes and started talking.

We sat across from each other, and I was silently on-guard as I got into an ‘accidentally deep’ conversation with this ‘stranger.’ We talked about everything… books, art, history, life, philosophy… Hours went by and I felt like I could tell him anything.

Then the subject of travel came up, and I began telling him the places I’d been. I said specifically, that I had been traveling the world since I was really young, but that I’ve really been ‘running all over the place for the past ten years.’ Up until that moment, I hadn’t thought about the difference between the words ‘traveling’ and ‘running.’

He looked at me with a genuine and serious look , and without hesitation, he said ‘ what are you running from?’….

I looked down, as it felt like the wind got knocked out of me.

My expression changed as I recalled the hundreds of thousands of miles I had traveled.

It was only then that I realized that it’s all this that I had been running from, and continue to run from.

I was trying to put distance between myself and my broken heart. I wanted away from this hurt, the agony of life without my niece, the restless helplessness I felt about seeing my whole family destroyed beyond comparison. I wanted away from the anger, the sleepless nights, the daydreams and the nightmares, the feeling of being on edge. I wanted away from this thing, this huge monster.

Looking back, it didn’t matter if I was two cities over, in the middle of the Caribbean ocean or Mexican Riviera, or on a road trip with a road map, nothing could take it away, nothing could make me forget.

After I sipped my 7-Up to try to make the lump in my throat go down a little easier, I became painfully aware of how immensely vulnerable I was at that moment. I felt raw emotion, and I couldn’t hide it. How surprising that someone could help me and change me with only a single question. It was one of those ‘wow’ moments, the very definition of an epiphany.

After I explained our story, we sat in silence. Tears ran down my face, he placed his hand gently on mine with great empathy, and I felt relieved to be understood.

It was like the stars aligned, the world stopped spinning in the opposite direction, and the hope I desperately needed, was restored. From then on, I was able to put one foot in front of the other, I was ready to tackle this beast.

With the help of a kind stranger, my life was saved, and I will forever be thankful …. I was in the right place, at the right time, and it was anything but an accident …. It was divine.