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Published Sunday October 11th, 2009 at 5:45am

Original Article by Amanda

I haven't written anything in a while. I couldn't say why. It's not for lack of things to say, not at all. Plenty of adoption things have been going on. My birthmother has revealed that she is terminally ill, I fought with her over the new discovery of my half sister, as she feels I went "over her head" and was angry that I didn't ask her permission to contact one of her children.

I contacted my sister 6 months ago. I offered my sister a chance to contact my birthmother (who had had little bits of contact in the past with her …years ago) and my sister declined. She said she wanted " one person at a time." She said that she wasn't ready. So I waited. When she finally requested to know our birthmother, I made it happen.

I went over my birthmothers head on purpose…duh. Because she's crazy. And because I would never expose my sister to her without my sister‘s consent. Because I hate her. Because she had the courage to accuse me of being ungrateful. Because she had the courage to tell me "I am the mother, you owe me

And it was in that moment, as I struggled with everything in me not to SCREAM, that I realized that I do not matter. I've never mattered. My adoption was never about me, at least no on her part. Not really. Decades later, it's still about her.

"Why should I apologize for having found my sister?" I asked my birthmother, crying at this point (she would hang up on me a few minutes later, with the excuse that she couldn't listen to me cry.) "Why should I say that I'm sorry when I'm not… just because I'm adopted, I don't deserve to know my sister? I don't have the right, as an adult, to have a relationship with another adult without your permission? My feelings don't matter?"

"You have a right, "said my birthmother, " but I'M the mother. This isn't about you, or your sister, or any of my children. It's about ME."

I owe my birthmother respect because she is another human being on this planet. Because at one time she made a decision for my life that turned out well. But my mother? No. I will not grant her that. I will not allow the adoption industry to tell me who MY mother is. There is so much pressure on adoptees to simply… love their birthparents. To acknowledge them as the natural, the right, the "real" parents.

I'm angry. Furious, even. I simply do not matter. I am forever a child to my birthmother, a commodity to be traded for extra years of the easy life, another notch on her maternal belt.

I know why my birthmother was so angry. I know , at least now, what made her fly off the handle. I know, but I don't care. She has made her mistakes, she has made her bed. Her 9 children are growing up now- and they're pissed. They have a lot of questions.

Why did you give us away? Why did you leave us? Why did you have more children after you failed as OUR mother? Why did you do all the awful things that you've done?….My birthmother, our birthmother, will never answer us. She will displace blame, she will shift it as far away fro her as possible. She will shirk from her responsibilities, she will turn her face from us, her children- beseeching.

Adoption is the most wretched part of my existence. I wish I could purge myself of it, I wish, sometimes, that it didn't exist. That I was born into the family I was raised with. That I didn't have to look into the eyes of blood strangers and feel that I am supposed to love, that I am supposed to feel grateful.

I AM grateful. I love my family. My birthparents gave me away, and this was the result. This beautiful, extraordinary, amazing life that I love. But that is where our roads part. I'd waited for them for so long… to know them, to understand them. Now they wait for me to come back, to rejoin their family as if nothing happened- but they can stop waiting, I've already gone.