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Touched by Adoption

Touched by Adoption
Dont ask stupid questions

16 November 2006 11:48:08 PM Diary  

Friday, 31 August 2007

I can’t sleep again; my head just won’t switch off. It's been nearly a year since I found my mum, sisters, and brother and it's been 3 week since I found and met my dad’s son David.

My 22 years of searching for family is over now but I still have the truth to deal with.

My head is so full of mixed and jumbled feelings that I have decided to write this diary. I hope that'. I'll be able to look back at this one day and know it was all worth it.

I’ve been thinking none stop about David all week. When I met him 3 weeks ago, it was dead weird, I had never ever thought I might have family on my dad’s side that would want to see me never mind want to have a relationship with me.

I hadn't felt emotional when I met David, I had seen it as just getting to know details about my dad, who I'd always thought had denied me when I was a baby. I was gobsmacked when real mum confessed to me the morning I met him that actually my dad didn’t know about me.

I drove back to Liverpool with David but wasn’t sure what to think. He told me that our dad had suffered many strokes and his mind was going too. He has altzhimers, which shocked me, but I didn’t know how to feel.

David dropped me at Ally’s and even though he said he wanted to get to know me, I don’t think I expected to see him again. He turned up at Ally’s the next day and as I jumped in his car, I felt completely different. I can’t explain it but I just felt at ease with him and I wanted to be with him.

Over the next week, my head just exploded with everything. For the first time in my life, I wanted a dad, my dad. I can’t bear to think of him as he is. David gave me photos of him and I just look at them and cry. I know that because of his health we will never get the chance to be father and daughter.

I was angry with real mum for not telling me the truth and felt it was her fault it was too late for us. I know I was wrong to think that and if I’m honest I can understand why she lied to him and never told me. It doesn’t matter now because it's in the past.

I've felt like shit all week because I had started to think David had changed his mind about me. I feel a prat saying it but just because he hadn’t, rang me Id started to feel a fool for even hoping he would. Anyway I sent him a text, couldn’t ring in case he made an excuse not to speak to me! That would have killed me. He rang me back about an hour later and he was fine. He has just been busy with work and sorting nursing home out for his dad.

I'm finding it so hard sometimes. I have always been secure in myself but not anymore. Sometimes I get a knot so tight in my belly because I'm so scared everyone will disappear. Oh, well I’m crying now, always do when I admit how I really feel, so hopefully I will be able to fall asleep.

Update – I have not seen or heard off David since then.

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Age 7 1972 chirpy chirpy cheep cheep  

Thursday, 30 August 2007

It was in my first year juniors when I heard the word adoption. Adoption, a word that has followed me like a bad smell ever since!

I admit I was already a horrible little brat even before I wore the adoption badge. That day was no different. I had been playing skipping with the other kids from my class and one of my friends tripped me up. In retaliation (ok, so it wasn't really retaliation!) I bit her on the leg, leaving huge teeth marks. Her parents went berserk demanding that I be removed from the school(excellent! ha ha). The head master apparently told the parents that I behaved like that because I was adopted! Huh, not sure how he knew. Anyway the next day the bitten leg and a few others kept singing chirp a chirpy cheep cheep to me. for those of you who don't remember it, it was a naff song that went 'chirpy chirpy cheep cheep' where's ya momma gone, where's ya momma gone' You get the drift. Then came the questions. What was it like being adopted, why didn't my mum want me etc. etc. At some point that day the headmaster must of heard about it and called me to his office.
As hard as I try I can not remember what I was told in school but I do remember what happened at home. I had ran home dead excited, yeah I was adopted! I had lost the thread of what it meant but it was still exciting. My amum was out when I got in but my adad was their. Dad, dad I'm adopted, I'm adopted. I don't really know what he said or if I even listened to him, I just know I was running round the house like a loony shouting I was adopted. When my amum came home I ran downstairs to tell her (must of thought she didn't know lol). Crack! I can still feel the slap now. I was a selfish little bastard. They had saved me from the gutter, I should be ashamed not shouting it for the world to know. What was the point of them keeping me if every one knew I wasn't theirs. Things were never the same again.

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Old Wounds  

Tuesday, 28 August 2007

Since starting my blog a week ago my emotions have been all over the place. It's been a little over a year since I packed my adoption box away. It was supposed to be closure for me

Adoption had dominated my life for as long as I could remember. I had always said to myself that if I found my real mum I would be complete. What a load of bollocks that was!
Finding her meant finding out every single thing I had ever been told had been lies. Getting my head around that at the same time as getting to know my real family was too much.
I did what I do best, I ran away from the situation. I cut all contact with my real family. I have never told my adoptive mum that I have found my real mum or that I know the truth. My intention was to stick two fingers up to the world and say stuff, so what! I was going to live my life adoption free.
Free, what a joke that is. Adoption binds you up in chains and never lets go! My adoption box is open again. I have been looking through it for things to post and have either ended up crying, (I always feel pathetic if I cry over any part of my adoption) or wanting to kill some one!
I am going to continue with my blog because sticking two fingers up and saying stuff it, so what, is like saying it doesn't matter that I was taken from my family and given away in the hope that the shame surrounding my birth remained a dirty secret.
Well it's not OK. I deserved the right to be me! not have someone scrub me out of existence and reinvent me like some new and improved model! My blog will probably be a mish mash of times dates and events, not to mention my crazy thoughts. Putting everything in order would be impossible because my head doesn't know the meaning of the word!

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Child of the swinging 60's  

Friday, 24 August 2007

This is for you mum. Weird isnt it,mum, I can write the word but I cant say it!


A child of the swinging 60's
A mother all alone,
No one to offer any help
And a father marked unknown.

However, could she keep her child?...

When all around screamed shame,
Society frowned upon it...
And along adoption came.

A problem to correct
Decisions for them to make,
Unfit, unwed mother
Give birth for them to take.

Middle class wealthy family
The balance seems just right,
Rid the shameless mother
Leave her nothing left to fight.

Baby goes to decent home
A husband and a wife,
Never mind the mother
Who gave that very life.

Even if a loving home
The child feels less than whole,
So many unanswered questions
Fragmented in the soul.

Empty aching arms
Two splintered lives to heal,
A past that’s gone forever
And years more pain to feel.

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1969 First Memory  

Sitting in the back of a removal, eating a sausage roll. I have always had a clear memory of that day. Ask me what the house we were leaving was like, and I couldn't tell you...


My dad had sat me on a big wooden chair right inside the big van. I had been driving the removal men nuts by running riot. I can even tell you where my sausage roll was from, it was from Sayers.

I never questioned myself about that memory or why it was so clear to me. It was just my first memory. Everyone has one it was no big deal.
It turned into a big deal for me in 2005. July 12th, 2 weeks before my 40th birthday.

That was the day I met my real mum and family for the first time. That was the day I found out that the day before the big move was the last time I saw my mum...

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Shame of the UK Family Courts  

Oooh! So frustrating! I can't help feeling guilty and selfish thinking about my own adoption right now


The new U.K family law was supposed to help families. All they have done is legalise child theft. More and more families are being ripped apart by the legal system.
Once a family has come to the attention of Social Services they may as well kiss the kids bye bye. Closed courts makes it impossible for them. It is a catch 22 situation. If they don't try and fight the case they lose the kids and if they do fight they still lose. If the parents go public in a desperate attempt for help they are held on contempt of court. The courts then dispense of the need for consent to adoption on the grounds of parents being unco-operative.
So far over 100 children in the UK have been wrongly adopted through the closed courts procedure. Only after these adoptions took place was there any investigation into them. Adoption is irreversible, even when proved it was wrong! Those children have lost their parents for ever. Sick... Local M.P John Hemmings say they are getting three and four new cases a day arising.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2007/08/19/nsocial119.xml



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1994  

Thursday, 23 August 2007

I had finally got a call from a Social Worker. I994, nearly 30 years after my birth, he had found my adoption records.

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I was actually going to see something that was really mine. I was going to be able to touch something that mu mum had touched. I was going to know myself.
Three weeks later, in a busy Social Services office, I was handed my file. It contained 2 dog eared questionnaires sheets,a yellow form and a piece of scrap paper.

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Blog Slog  

I wish someone had warned me! This blogging lark isn't easy. Every key I hit seems to have a mind of its own! So if anybody out there is reading this and can give me a few tips on layouts and the such... end


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Should of been a dog  

Wednesday, 22 August 2007

They kept the dogs pedigree papers locked in a draw. I asked to see them once. Generation after generation of blood lines were on them with fancy names. Then I had to sit through a boring story about the dogs grandparents.

We live in a world of different religions and beliefs. In parts of the world there is hunger and wars and little hope. In other parts of the world there is vast wealth. The world is home to everyone. From the queen in her castle to the villagers in their huts. It has good people and bad people and everyone in between. Every human being in the world is born, breathes and lives

Adopted children our the only ones who have their birth details removed and replaced with fictitious ones. They are the only ones who have their name taken from them. And the only ones who have to go through a third party to try and recover the missing pieces..

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Love me just Once  

Monday, 20 August 2007





Strangled twisted roots
Preventing all potential,
Won’t someone give a damn?
Stop me going mental.

Hold me in your arms
Give me some direction,
Shattered fragile mind
Starved of all affection.

Life is just a journey
A long winding road,
Someone please protect me
From the unrelenting cold.

The sky without birds
The sea without fish,
A heart with no beat
Is all that I wish.

I ache to be loved
For someone to care,
What have I done?
To have no one there.

Was I born bad?
My mothers curse,
Tormented and empty
Could I feel any worse?

Pray give me hope
A reason to be,
Free from this pain
Happy with me
.
Love me just once
That’s all I ask,
To face the world
Discarding my mask.


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