Lawmakers Have Us Under their Spell…

or do they?

Grown In My Heart post.

What do you think?

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I’m Horrifying Adoptive Parents Again..

..over at Grown In My Heart.

It’s Sex and Drugs and Dear Birthmother letters for me this time.

see-adoption-blog-post

Trinkets Of My Ingratitude

A conversation with a friend brought up an interesting image. She remarked,  as an adopted little angel, I must require a halo welded to my sweet head.  I replied that I thought that I could pull it off if I could wrap it with the trinkets of my ingratitude.  

I could just see myself as the towheaded angel that I once was, clad in a white robe, resplendent with my golden halo, wrapped in jingling sparkly charms representing all of my sins.   It reminded me of the charm bracelet that I had as a child that represented all my virtues.  

My charm bracelet was sterling silver, and so were the charms, that was pretty impressive in those days.  It was my first piece of real jewelry.  I had a charm with a musical note because I was taking piano lessons.  A charm with a four leaf clover  because I was lucky.  There was a charm with a little girl carrying books because I went to school.

My adoptive mother bought me the charm bracelet at the local jewelry store.  This was a place of wonder, full of grown up things that you had to be very careful around.  They had glass shelves full of fancy glass vases and candy dishes in beautiful colors I’d never seen before. Lite from the bottom,   I thought they were the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.  They had long cases filled with gold and silver and gems that looked like contents of the treasure chests in my books.  There was a display of gold paged Bibles with illustrations in glowing colors that seemed to have had to have come from heaven.  

We didn’t buy much in the jewelery store, my adoptive mom liked practical things.  But one day mom decided that I needed a charm bracelet.  We walked into the jewelry store, past the lite up shelves that rattled ever so slightly with our footsteps, threatening to send the precious objects to the floor.  I felt butterflies in my stomach  and was relived to get to the back of the store without incident.

A woman that seemed so old that she might break if touched showed us a tray of silver bracelets.  There were so many to choose from, delicate ones with thin links, more substantial ones with heavy links, and one made up of delicate links fused together, I chose that one.   Then there were the charms, hundreds of them, made to represent everything I could think of, and some I couldn’t figure out.  My mother told me that we would pick out a few charms today and I could have new ones when I earned them.  I got the musical note and the four leaf clover that day.  The old lady took the bracelet to the back, attached the charms and wrapped it up on a satin lined box.  I wasn’t as nervous passing the rattling glass shelves with my little box on the way out.  

I was only to wear the bracelet on special occasions and to church.  Mom and I put it safely in my jewelry box that played Fur Elise and had the ballerina that spun in front of a mirror when opened.  

I earned more charms, a little Scottie dog when I got a puppy, a rose zircon was a birthday gift.  My bracelet would jingle on my wrist now.  I wore it to my cousin’s wedding, and out to dinner at The Green Circle, a very fancy restaurant where they served Shirley Temples.  I always wore it to church.   

There was one charm that I wanted more than anything.  It was a Bible, that had a little peephole you could look into and see the Lord’s Prayer.  It was like magic.  Mother told me I could have it if I memorized the Lord’s Prayer.  

It wasn’t easy, it took a while, and there was some controversy over if I was to forgive sins or trespasses, but I did it.  I memorized the Lord’s Prayer and got that charm.  

I was quite the hit at Sunday school that week. Nobody else had ever seen anything like that charm.  I refused to remove the bracelet, fearing it’s loss, and made everyone peer into the little Bible while I held up my wrist. My Sunday school teacher was even impressed.  

I couldn’t wait to get home from church to tell my mother, who never attended church herself, about how much everyone had liked the charm.  I never got home with that bracelet, it must have slipped off my wrist on the way home.  I was devastated.  Mother and I retraced my steps, but the bracelet wasn’t found.  Mother even hired a man with a metal detector to look for it the next week.  Nothing was found.  The bracelet was lost.  All of the representations of my virtues were never to be found again.  

I believe my friend was right, they should have welded a halo to my head.  It would have been harder to lose.  Would those representations of my virtues turned to trinkets of my ingratitude eventually?  Who is to know?

Missouri Update

Hey all, need some help from some Missouri folks, and anyone else who would like to take a few minutes for the cause.There are a couple of OBC access bills floating around the Missouri Legislature.  One is pretty much dead in the water this session, and the other is on the hearing list.  The bill on the hearing list is the same old tired hag of a bill that has been around for years.  It basically sucks.  Can you say contact preference, that is asked for over the phone by a state records worker when an adoptee applies for a copy of the OBC? And the adoptee has to sign a paper saying they will abide by the contact preference? Yeah.  I am not crazy about this bill.  Here’s how it reads now. With the particularly shitty parts bolded..

SB 53 – This act modifies provisions regarding adoption records. The State Registrar shall develop and, upon a birth parent’s request, distribute both a contact preference and a medical history form to the birth parent. The contact preference form allows a birth parent to list his or her preference for contact by the adoptee. If a contact preference form is filed with the registrar, a medical history form shall also be so filed. Upon receipt of the forms, the State Registrar shall attach such forms to the original birth certificate of the adopted person.

This act allows for an adopted person, the adopted person’s attorney, or the adopted person’s descendants, if the adopted person is deceased, to obtain a copy of the adopted person’s original birth certificate from the State Registrar upon written application and proof of identification. The adopted person shall be 18 years of age or older and born in Missouri. The adopted person shall also agree in writing to abide by the birth parent’s contact preference, if such preference is included with the adopted person’s original birth certificate. The State Registrar shall also provide a medical history form, if such form was completed by the birth parent.

The provisions of the act shall not apply to adoptions instituted or completed prior to August 28, 2009, except that a copy of the medical history form, which has had all identifying information redacted, shall be issued to such adopted person. For adoptions completed prior to August 28, 2009, the state registrar shall release the original birth certificate only if the birth mother is deceased. If the birth mother is not deceased, the state registrar shall, within thirty days of application by the adopted person, contact the birth mother via telephone, personally and confidentially, to obtain the birth mother’s written consent or denial to release the original birth certificate.

This act is identical to SCS/SB 1132 (2008) and similar to SB 322 (2003)

BUT, the same people who have been bringing this bill like forever are bringing Paula Benoit to Missouri.  She was instrumental in getting Maine’s OBC law passed, and probably doesn’t need any introduction here…

http://www.adopteecare.com/paula/

Here’s her blog with the latest update…

http://adopteecare.blogspot.com/?psinvite=ALRopfV9vIsE5jbcVzd-TeEXUyPVLdV46-b_Qowb1nmhhlchrGML4T2hN3Y9x29-kkrxx-F27CxQVCDkE0Y4BdaWgs6hoB6rTw

She has offered to keep us updated on her activities while in Missouri and would like anyone who can to come down and support her.   Since this is mainly a MoCare deal, most everything about this trip has been on an email list, and I’d like to make this information a bit more widely available.  

I have set up an email list, but will post anything I get here.  I’d also like to hear from you guys.  The more voices we have, the better we can do here.  And let’s face it, Missouri needs a kick in the ass.  

I’m going to see about visiting the following reps and senators (my locals and near bys)with Paula, if there is anyone else you’d especially like me to try to get seen, let me know…

Senator Brad Lager-12th district
Senator We Shoemeyer-18th district
Rep Casey Guernsey-3rd district
Rep Rebecca McClanahan-2nd district

Everybody Wants Some

It seems that everybody is asking me for money these days.  Jimmy Carter wrote me a letter about building affordable housing, The  Willdlife Fund has assured me that every last panda on Earth will be exterminated unless I send them $25, and for some reason if I don’t send the DNC more money, our very way of life will come to an end.  I thought the DNC should be in pretty good shape, but I was mistaken.

This is a normal day for me.  I send out little dribbles of money to save the world.   It’s not something that I would even mention if I hadn’t received an appeal from another organization.

It started off like this, and I quote….

Your gift to Holt’s Special Needs Adoption Fund will help to offset the adoption expense for a waiting child, and immediately help to make sure the children are united with the loving families they desperately need. We are asking you today for a gift of $50, $100 or more to help a waiting child be adopted, or consider a special gift of $1,934 to help place one child with a loving family in 2009. Your gift will make a huge difference for these children and families!

OK, they want me to give money to help special needs kids around the world.  Who could possibly be against helping special needs kids?  Certainly not me.  I’m all for helping special needs kids.

But wait, this money doesn’t go to the kids, it goes to potential adoptive parents….potential adoptive parents that can’t afford their adoptions.   Even special needs adoptions that cost substantially less.  It doesn’t go to orphanages to pay for doctors, or therapists, or surgeries.  One wonders if they will be hearing from this loving family in the future, after all taking care of a special needs child ain’t cheap.  If $1,934 is all that it takes to get the kid home, where are they going to come up with the costs for care, even if they have insurance?  Let’s face it, if they can’t put a couple of grand on their MasterCard, how good could their jobs be, even if they have benefits?  I really don’t want Holt selling them my name for future reference.

The money goes to some wannabe “family” that doesn’t seem to be aware that there are a whole load of special needs kids that you can adopt for what amounts to almost free.  That’s right, if you really took a bath in this recession, there are places that will let you save a kid right here at home.  They even come in a variety of colors.  Heck if you don’t tell the neighbors, they’ll never know that you got them on the cheap.  Just teach the kids a few words of the exotic language of your choice and send them out to play.

No, the money doesn’t pay for help for the kids, it offsets the cost of airfare and a couple of weeks in some Americanized pseudo luxury hotel, and a barbie doll.  If they think I’m going to help pay for some entitled potential adoptive parents to stay in accommodations I can’t afford, they are dreaming.

But wait, there’s more…

Charlie was born premature at 28 weeks weighing 2.4 pounds. He continues to have global delays. Charlie will develop more rapidly in the love and nurture of a permanent family and your gift will make a huge difference in our ability to find him that family.

Things do sound bad for Charlie.   I’m not really sure why I can’t just give some money to help out Charlie.   I think the first thing I’d like to pay for is a name change, he really doesn’t look like a Charlie, that could do wonders for his self esteem.  As I’m sure they tell all the potential adopters in pre-adoptive classes, self esteem is key in development.

I think I’ll pass on this one.  I still want to help special needs kids and adoptees, but I think I’ll cut out the middle man.  There are tons of charities that do great work in every single country that Holt is doing business.  Many of them might have even been able to get poor Charlie some help without going through all the trouble of adoption.

I want to help adoptees too.  I think I’ll send some money here.

Adoptee Rights.

Poor Reviews For Addie’s Story

As most of you have noticed, I don’t write about my personal experience with adoption much here.  There is a reason for that.  I don’t know what my personal experience with adoption really is.

I know what I experienced, but I don’t know why it happened.  I’ve never assumed that I know others motivations.  Without knowing why people did things, I don’t feel like I can give an accurate account of my own experience.  

I’ve heard the stories surrounding my adoption.  They don’t make sense to me.  I know the players, the time line, the basic events.  I just don’t know their motivations.  It’s like a movie without direction.  There is a story, but there is nothing to make me care about the characters.  It comes off as one dimensional.  

There would be no Academy Award nominations for anyone involved in my adoption biopic.  The actors all seem to be totally without conviction.  They speak of desires, regrets, and deep feelings, but come off cold.  It’s as if they are only reciting.  

Maybe they had told to the story too many times before I could ask.  Maybe it was over rehearsed.  

It is hard to pull off a piece where the title character doesn’t speak.  It leaves the other characters to struggle for relevance.  It is easy for the actor to forget that it really is about them, not the title character.  They forget that it’s all about their reaction to the situation.  The title character is only a catalyst.  They approach the role not realizing that it’s an ensemble piece.  It makes for a poor performance. 

Whatever the reason, I am unmoved.  

If I had known, I would have never taken the role.

Strange Bedfellows

Well, I’m not sure how strange they are, but I did a guest bolgging gig over here..

 

http://ouradopt.com/adoption-blog/dec-2008/guestblogger/guest-blog-there-one-born-every-minute

 

Oh and while you are it, go see my friend Ungrateful Little Bastard, she’s strange in a good way.

http://ungratefullittlebastard.blogspot.com/2008/12/philadelphia-adoptee-rights.html

She has big news about the Philly protest.