Honesty

Honesty. Most of us have a bunch of different feelings wrapped around that term. It can be something we expect from others, but it is often a very hard thing to give to them.

I'm going to be on a internet radio show about adoption. I sent my summary to the grown daughter that I gave up for adoption to check with her first before going on air. This brought out a lot of feelings or at least some communicating about feelings that may have already been there. That is a good thing, a very good thing!

In the MBTI Personality system, my daughter and I are both NF's (iNtuitive Feelers). We hate conflict. I hate getting in trouble. I feel it physically alarm my system in a BIG way = ugh, ick, and eek! Honesty opens us up to this feeling being a possible consequence when the other party reacts. Introverted NF's would rather bite our tongues and pretend that things are hunky dory than express our own feelings about something.

My husband is also an INF. I told him that NF's often pretend things are okay until it builds up too far and then we are done, never to return to fix anything. We give our all before this point and have no more energy left. I didn't want each of us to be biting our tongues and then have the blood soak us until one of us gives up. So we decided to be honest from the beginning.

Honesty felt awkward, especially at first. But soon, we started noticing the problem solving that helped address the issue was easier when less emotion/resentment was involved. We began feeling heard and respected. One time my husband thanked me for sticking to our solution. I said, "That's what you get for communicating!" Our relationship has benefited from the openness, vulnerability, sharing, UNDERSTANDING, and intimacy that comes as a result of listening quietly while someone is being honest and NOT TAKING IT PERSONALLY!

Anyway, I am so grateful that my daughter was brave enough to be honest! Her birth family is in a prime position to understand her as she is today, if she is honest. We do not have pages of history to use to form opinions about who she is based on what she was before.

I look forward to understanding her better with this new information about her feelings and thoughts and desires.

"Adoption" Radio Show 5/3/10

Here is the link to the 5/3/10 radio show about Adoption: https://docs.google.com/leaf?id=0BxcEuxW7vjh3OGYyMDMwZWEtYzRhNC00YTdlLTkyOWUtYTFkZmQwYTUwNzQ4&hl=en

Making Family Time Mean Something

This is the link to the radio show for 5/24/10 about how to bring the idea of ritual into your family's daily life. Guest Gina Bria joins Leta and Lori Hamilton. She wrote

_The Art of Family: Rituals, Imagination, and Everyday Spirituality_

https://docs.google.com/leaf?id=0B2nL4-E2hfCrYzc0MDliYTctNTJiMi00ZTcxLWFkODktMWE2MWViNjg5NWRl&hl=en

My Body, Her Body...Aint' NO BODY'S Business!

The daughter that I gave up for adoption is driving across the country with her mom. She's on her way home from college. I sincerely hope they are making wonderful memories! But the road is full of pit stops, and that could be a problem.

She really loves her mom, dad, and sister. She is very loyal. While away at college, she talks to her mom daily on the phone.

She loves me, too. That love is completely separate from the love she has for her adoptive mother. She has a big heart and feels that family is important. We met when she was only seventeen, and, even then, she was anxious to add all my relatives to her family. Her relationship with me and my family is not a threat to her relationship with her adoptive mom and family. Her relationship with them is not a threat to her love for us.

But there is one topic that causes tension between them that does involve me and my family and our genes. Our body type is very different than that of her adoptive family's body type. Our daughter has been raised to hate her body with words of advice given time and again about what she should and should not eat and made to feel guilty any time she sat on a couch to relax instead of being out exercising. Each time she takes a bite, she feels like someone is watching her.

Saying a prayer before we eat comes from thanking God, but it also comes from thanking the food, the plant or the animal so that it blesses our body with health. Feeling guilty is the exact opposite! That means that regardless of what food she puts in her mouth, it will not be healthy for her cells. With each bite, she hates herself more.

It makes me angry and defensive. It makes me want to protect my child from being bullied. I want to shake the adoptive mother and say, "You are insulting her genes. You are saying she is not already perfect. You are making her feel that your acceptance is conditional and based on the number on the scale. If your pressuring her about her weight hasn't worked yet, it isn't going to help if you say it one more time. Pressuring her has made things worse. Do you want her to enjoy coming home for the holidays, or do you want her to feel the stress of knowing it won't be comfortable and relaxed and without judgment?"

Yet I would never actually call her up or email her with these points. It would cause more friction. The last thing I want to do is make my daughter feel uncomfortable by upsetting her mother. I won't say anything. My daughter already has expressed her frustration. It hasn't helped, though. Their dynamic is not my business. But when the topic that causes tension is my fault, it sure is hard not to blame myself. Yet again, I feel helpless.

The only thing I can do is offer unconditional love on my end. I can model a life of happiness regardless of how much I weigh. I can show her the joy of eating my wedding cake. I can pray that one day she'll feel good about her own wedding cake and love her body as much as her future husband will, regardless of the size of the wedding dress.

Perpective of a Mother who Gave a Child up for Adoption & a Step-Mom all Wrapped into One

Making parenting decisions gets tricky when you aren’t the primary parent.

I am a "tummy mommy" and a "heart mommy".

I am a step-mom to two wonderful little girls, Tracy and Ashly, ages 9 and 7. My husband has custody, but the girls go back and forth between our house and their mom’s apartment week on, week off.

What kind of voice am I to have? What am I allowed to do or say? The lawyer said my role, legally, is perceived as supporting the parents. He said that I really don’t count. To my husband, I am a vital sounding board and have a strong voice that he respects. With him, I’m able to admit my preferences and stand up for our future as a family, yet we know that he gets the final say and that I will support him no matter if I agree or not. To the girls, I am a mom. They constantly remind me that I count. Time after time, they open their huge hearts to let me in, love my family, and fill our moments with joy. To them, I am a "heart mommy". The ex-wife ignores me or vilifies me in turn, depending on her present state of mind and emotion.

Yet she is the mother of my children. The girls have a place in their hearts for her that shall always be sacred.

I understand this need, for I am also a birth mother or "tummy mommy" who gave up a child for adoption. For twenty-one years, I have prayed that the adoptive parents would respect the place I have in my daughter’s heart and life. During these years, I have had to practice sacrificing my own preferences and desires for the comfort of their family. For twenty years before I had step-children, I swore I’d be a good parent, if I ever got the chance again. I wanted to do it right the next time.

I was a teacher and am a member of a big family. For two decades, I observed parenting and made mental notes about what I would and wouldn’t do. I took classes about parenting and behavior management for my classroom. I read books and unpacked my emotional baggage, making sure my heart was healed and ready to open wide for some precious little soul someday.

So now I must do a double take before uttering any words to my children. I must take into account the feelings and desires of these beautiful young ladies, all of their parents, our families, friends and supporters. We all count. Even me.

Maybe this makes me a better parent? It certainly makes me a careful parent, a very careful mother.