Dawnukkah

I am not sure exactly when I knew or how I was told but from a very young age around 8 or so, I’ve known that I am adopted.  I guess when you tell kids things they just accept it and don’t over analyze things.  I wasn’t angry about it, I just figured that my ‘real’ mom (as I called her in my mind when I was young) wasn’t able to raise a baby so she gave me to my mom.  But as I got older I learned what being adopted was and I learned a little bit more about my birth parents.  The only thing that my mom gave me about my birth parents is a pathetic looking piece of paper with two columns on it.  The 1st column says “mother” and the 2nd one says “father”.  On the paper are the typed words that make up who I am, things like my birth parents eye color, age, ethnic backgrounds and their hobbies, she was 16 and he was 20.  If you are curious, she was good in school and had plans for college and he was a cook.  Just so you know, I don’t like to cook.

There is this crazy fantasy that I have every year as my birthday approaches.  What I fantasize about  is finding a birthday card in the mail with no return address on it, a mystery card.  Inside is a vintage 70′s style birthday card with a kitty cat and some flowers on it.   The simple words written inside are “Thinking of you, Love  Mom”.  Well, I never get that card in the mail, she never has sent it and I am pretty sure at this point she never will.  It has been years since I turned 18 when she could legally come and find me but nothing has happened, no knocks on my door.  Yes, I am a bit disappointed.  I’ve registered with a lot of search registries too, but nothing.

What I do think about every year on my birthday, without fail is what my birth mother was going through when I was born.  She was 16 at the time and I think about how scared she must have been, did she have any family with her during labor, did they even care?  Did anyone care when I was born, there certainly wasn’t a Daddy waiting to hold me or a Mother waiting to snuggle with me.  I even thought of my birth mother and her situation after my daughters were born.  I knew how horrible labor is (yes it is horrible and it sucks and it is painful) and I though of her and felt bad for her.

When I gave birth to Lily she had to be taken to the NICU and I remember the nurse holding her and walking out of the room with her and I just lost it and started crying, I was thinking of my birth mother and what she must have seen as they took me away.  I also spent the 1st night in the hospital alone, Lily was in the NICU and Louis was exhausted so he went home for sleep.  I was so lonely and I just wanted my baby, I cried until I fell asleep.  It must have been what it was like for her, she gave birth and was alone, no family, no baby.  Lily did come out of the NICU the following afternoon so there is a happy ending there.

This is probably why I created Dawnukkah.  It is a silly celebration week of my birthday that I joke around with my family about.  And this is why I make such a big deal about my birthday, it is to hide my real feelings and my thoughts about my birthday.  Up until now, only Louis knew of these feelings that I have.  He knows it when I get the mail around my birthday what I am thinking about.  Don’t get me wrong, I love the fact that I am alive and that my mother had the strength to give me up for adoption but it still makes me sad to think about her situation.  I am my own Lifetime Movie.

The big question is will I find her?  I’ve sort of tried, I have a name, I have an address and it might be correct or not but for some reason I just can’t do it.  I know I can just hire someone to find her but I chicken out.  I am not sure why I chicken out because I do not like mysteries or cliff hangers yet I am the biggest mystery to myself.  Weird.

Writing this blog post has helped me to release these feelings and not having to keep them bottled up inside feels pretty good.  Sure, I cried pretty much the whole time I wrote this post but it felt good to get it out.  I think what prompted me to write this blog post is that last week I was watching Glee and the song “Blackbird” by the Beatles was sung by Chris Colfer.  I really liked the song, it spoke to me about being free. I did some research about the song and found out that Paul McCartney wrote the song about the civil rights struggle after reading about race riots in the US.  You can hear the song on this site http://www.jango.com/stations/267243409/tunein?song_id=288128

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free.

Blackbird fly   Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.

Blackbird fly    Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to
arise.

So let’s raise a glass to another year passing and celebrate life, Dawnukkah !