"Antwone Fisher"

I just finished watching the story of Antwone Fisher. It is 3:00 a.m. and I can't stop pondering.

It was a great story, I'm sure most of you have all seen it. It's a true story about a man who is in the navy that has quite the temper and is referred to the psychiatrist. During sessions with the psych his story unfolds. Antwone was born in some prison two months after his father was murdered. He then goes into foster care with an abusive preacher family that is quite dysfunctional to say the least and when he got big enough to stand up to the foster preacher mama and not take her beatings anymore, she kicked him out on the street and then he joined the Navy. The psych encourages him to find his real family.

Now here is where my confusion begins. He finds his father's family first and they receive him well. One of the new found family members takes him to met his mother and upon finding out who he is, she leaves the room.

Antwone follows her back into the back living room and is able to tell her how great of a person he is and questions her why she never came for him. The woman was speechless and appeared a bit cold hearted, not giving him eye contact, holding all emotions in, not saying a word.

Antwone kisses her on the cheek and leaves...

Wow! Really?! I am confused at her lack of response. Me being a mother that has lost a child to adoption and has had a moment of rediscovery reuniting with my son when he was 19... I was expecting a little more remorse or excitement or something. But as I remember back upon my initial (very supervised) first meeting with my son... I too was extremely guarded. I too probable lacked showing emotion, but inside I was aching trying to figure what it all meant.

I felt very misplaced. I felt very inadequate. I felt very undeserving. I guess I could say, now looking back on that moment... I felt like a scared 16 year old girl again that was meeting her maker and nervous to see what exactly will my punishment be.

I hate living with the loss that I have suffered. Not knowing was almost easier. I could block it out and pretend it never happened. I had learned to live with the hole in my heart. Just like any other handicap, you learn to get along around it.

The other thing that I cannot stop pondering about. Wow! What a great family Antwone's father had. Now how come they were not notified? How come they were not the first on the list to go to instead of a foster home?

Well, this brings a memory back to me. When I was that 16 year old girl that didn't know what to do. The "professionals" and society kept referring to the daddy as a "sperm donor". Being as naive as I was, I seriously thought strangers were better than the "sperm donor" to help me raise this child.

I went to an adoption conference last October in Utah. Being in Utah, it was a conference promoting adoption, very unlike the healing adoption conference I had just got back from attending in New York with Joe Soll. They had a b!r+# mothers panel of fresh mothers that had just chose to lose their children to adoption, and they kept snickering referring to the daddys as "sperm donor's".

As I sat with my husband of 24 years, you know, that "sperm donor" of my first child... their snickering hit me hard. I remembered having that same mentality. I realized, oh my gosh, that is one of their tactics. Discredit the father as the father he truly is. Yep, back in 1986, I feel for it too.

This movie is a great reminder that there are two parents that make a baby. Laws need to change. It shouldn't be such a battle for a father to get rights to his child. Children need to stay with family. If the father's family is a better family than that is exactly where the child needs to be.

I was so insecure about myself and did not feel I had the love and support that it would take to raise my son. Being 16, I didn't know what it would take to raise my son. Now being older and wiser and knowing what it takes to raise a son... oh my heck!!! All that he needed was my love. And that is exactly why I gave him up. The professionals kept saying, "If you love your baby, you will give him away." WHAT A CROCK!

I loved him so much, I did not trust me or my family to raise him. I loved him so much, I did not trust the daddy or his family to raise him. Heck, I loved him so much, if the "professionals" told me to place him in Australia to live in the outback, I would have! Well, that is exactly what I did, I followed the "professionals" advice, and placed him in Wyoming with strangers!

Well he loves these strangers and they love him. I'm glad they love him and I'm glad he loves them. I would hate to find out that he had an abusive home as many adoptees do.

But I will forever regret, not having one person let me in on a little secret... All that he needed was MY love.

I still love him so much. Our relationship has forever been altered. It will never be what it could have been. I don't think he will ever love me as much as my other two children. It is a sad reality, just as Antwone said in the end, "I'm glad I found her, but if I never see her again, I'm fine." ... Ya something like that... I feel the same from my son, he is glad that he found me, but if he never sees me again, he will be fine. And the horrible thing about the trauma of being separated? I, his own mother, will refuse and reject him, to save me from the horrible truth... he will be just fine without me. (There is so much more to the story, but some other time, lets just say, I will not be called a whore once more by that little bugger!!!)

Don't get me wrong, this isn't all about me... I know... but let's be honest, its hard having such motherly feelings for someone that has feelings for you no more than some ole' lady down the street who may bake him a pie once a year.