Wednesday, February 16, 2011


Today was THE day. I should have guessed it wouldn't be as to my expectations. Expectations always lead to disappointment.

Suddenly, I was having huge anxiety all morning, being short tempered with my kids and didn't want to go to the airport... a day I had been looking forward to for two years.

The child I had given birth to 24 years ago returned from his mission.

We had reunited 5 years ago from being separated, a choice I made... ya, I loved my baby so I agreed to give him to strangers, not realizing at the time just exactly what I was giving away.

The older I get, the wiser I get... it only brings me more realization of just exactly what I gave away. I am living with a consequence of a choice I made when I was 16. I was promised my life would go on for the better. I was promised his life would be so much better. How hurt I am to come to the realization that there was such judgment on me as a person, soon to be mother, that the best decision was to abandon my child and my love for him.

Looking back on pictures from me moving on with my better life... what was so better about it? Living with the void, pretending like nothing happened, acting like I am so happy and full of joy... when in all reality, the pain of separation has never left. I have just became an expert at not feeling.

During the two years, I wrote faithfully to my missionary. It was very therapeutic... I even wrote a book about relinquishment, adoption and reunion. For you see, him leaving triggered relinquishment all over again. I was reliving 1986, remembering... I had blocked a lot of memories from 1986 out.

I wrote the book, got all my mourning out, so I thought, and continued faithfully writing my missionary, claiming him loud and proud as MY son.

I was so confident for my love for him, unafraid to claim it. Confident that it would be received with open arms... How foolish am I?

We go to the airport, there is a huge crowd... its missionary come home day for many missionaries. The adoptive parents, his girlfriend and her family are already there.

I'm not in the mood to be friendly with them anymore. I've been respectful and friendly the 3 years prior to him leaving on his mission and quite frankly, I got sick of being dismissed, ignored and treated far from friendly from those adoptive parents. After all, I am the one that loved my baby so much I gave him to "you strangers"... quite the gift... After the fact, all that I seem to hear from every direction is "what kind of woman gives her baby away"... yep, that would be me.

As luck would have it, my son, that I have been extremely blessed with and loved him so much I did not give him to strangers, had to go to the restroom... he has been diagnosed with leaky gut syndrome... I escort him to the restroom, hear the screaming of a missionary appearing and upon returning, see it was the missionary whom we were waiting for.

I'm not a person who freely shows my emotions... a skill I have mastered. Our missionary notices us and saunters over in his Mexico fiesta outfit that some beloved local from Mexico made for him. We get our hugs hello and he continues to go back and forth from us to them. Poor guy, he really did juggle us well, and yes, it sucks that he even has to. I have to be grateful that... a. he wanted us there and b. he worked it like a circus entertainer trying to please everyone and make us all happy and feel loved.

The kicker... Carol Makita, from whatever news channel that she works for, was there reporting on the MTC and missionaries. We had noticed her early on and had wondered what celebrity was returning from a mission that would interest a news story... During our circus time with that professional juggling missionary of ours, Carol and her camera guy...assuming we were this missionary's family or something... we do kind of look like a set, (understatement)... came over asking us if she could ask us some questions.

I loved it, lets be honest, I loved that onlookers knew we belonged together.

Out of loyalty, love, professional juggling trying to unite as one, our missionary asks Carol and camera man to hang on while he summons the adoptive parents over. Instantly, Carol is realizing... oh these must all be the kids because here are the parents... after all, we do live in Utah... Just as instantly, I get scooted out of the circle.

Ouch. I get it, I do. They are his parents. They are the strangers I chose to give my baby that I loved so much to... Doesn't make it any less painful. I just thought this pain would eventually be lifted sometime in my lifetime.

We are starving, I know Kai is starving and we had planned on tagging along with everyone else to get a bite to eat and continue with him to be released as a missionary.

Steve, my husband... the man who loved his baby so much, he didn't fall for the "give him to strangers" bit, but didn't know how to stop it in a world that looks to fathers as "sperm donors"... informs me that we can leave now but we are invited to stop by their house at 5:00 to visit.

It was currently 3:00.

"Oh, okay, so we are not invited to follow him to eat and be released?" I did say, a little annoyed, hurt and reminded of exactly who I am not to this missionary.

The adoptive father, in ears reach, responds in a very scary mean voice, "we weren't invited! you just got uninvited!"

I still do not know what he means by this since they are the ones driving him to eat and get released, along with girlfriend and girlfriend's family.

My husband scolds me for being so childish, "giving him away was your choice and you just have to live with it and accept it and make the best of it! I didn't want to give him away!"

We left the baggage claim without our missionary.

I have felt this pain before... leaving the hospital empty handed the day after Christmas 1986 and a second time in 2005 on Christmas Eve, two days after we had reunited completing our family only to be devastated by being asked to leave so they could have him ALL to themselves on Christmas like always.

You know what? I am sick of feeling this pain. I am sick of living with my consequence/punishment for getting pregnant the first time I chose to have sex and I am so sick of being reminded how much I loved my baby I chose to give him to these strangers. What a crock!!! How I fell for that line, I will never know. When you love something, you DON'T give it away!!! Especially when it is your baby!!! That is called abandonment!!! What kind of woman does that???