Hey there Bloggets. Right, my blog today is about a TV show
Hub and I just happened to turn on last night and the effects life’s past still
has on me. When the subject came on, my sweet caring Husband tried to be discrete
and turn the TV onto the menu to read out loud what was on the TV that night, I
got a little tense as I was interested in what the outcome of the story was on
the show.
He took no notice
and still ignored me whilst blocking out the result of the outcome. At last, he
gave in and put the show on. I kind of wish he had won.
It was one of those dreadful shows I liked as a child but
now I am older and wiser, I really can’t bare, though of course, each to their
own.
A little girl was born in the UK. When she was born she was
three months premature. The Father was only eighteen but wanted his baby so
badly and worshiped her. He and the Mother lived together for the first three
years of the little girl’s life. She then moved to America as her Mother met with
an American soldier.
The Father tried for two years to contact the wife and
child.
Sadly for him, with no luck.
28 years later, the show got the two together. I was doing
really well, thought at last, I can cope with this story.
Oh, but as the Father came onto the stage, all the feelings
of my awful sad past, came flooding back.
“I was of course delighted for the girl, this is why I
wanted to hear the outcome but I just couldn’t help but think
“Why could that not have been me?
I can’t tell you about the meeting with my Natural Father,
but it was in my opinion, the absolute worst ending that could ever happen to
anyone.
Over the years, I have listened to so many stories about
adopted children. Most of them a happy ending. Some dreadful, but never have I witnessed
a story like mine.
One day if I get the chance to write my autobiography, I
shall write about it. All I can say, is the pain last night was as raw as all
those years ago.
The feeling of rejection and disappointment. Feelings of not
belonging will never leave me. That so called hole in my life, my past and my
future, still remains firmly cut out from my heart.
So now I am sure, I will never be able to accept what is my
past. What runs through my veins and wounds which are forever left open.
I come from the days when I didn’t have to even find out I
was adopted and I wished I had never found out.
Though each time I am reminded with either a visit to the Doctor,
when he asks me questions about my health history in which I know nothing
about! My future illnesses which could possibly be avoided
now I shall just wait and learn the hard way.
The nights I lay awake at boarding school crying for my
parents, wondering if I was at school at the age of six because I was going to
have to go to a new family again. Wondering as I was chased by the hundreds of
press down the street as I played if that would be the easy way in which my
cruel natural parents would have been able to find me and remove me from my loving
adopted parents’ home.
In Russia when I was a very small child, when I spent seven weeks
in the hospital and unknown to me, my Mother was not allowed to visit me, I
then was convinced that it was a foster home.
Forever wondering who I looked like, who enjoyed poetry and
singing like I did and do? Who I spoke like and who I get my sense of humour
from. The feeling of rejection will live with me always and forever this is why
my Son, my only blood will be forever attached to my heart. I have no one else
to mirror. Thank God I have him.
I have the love of my Husband and together we share a deep
connection as we too have known one another since the age of six, he was my
brother when young children and as we got older, there was a feeling of forever
love between us. I grab with two hands the love I have for him and my boy, they
are my family, my life now, but, that hole still hurts and will never heel.
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