No Contact Chapter II

I guess that it is about time to answer the original question, why did I initially refuse contact. In a lot of ways this is a lot harder to write than chapter I. A lot of the reason is that this is recent history and I don't have the excuse of being 23 years old and not really fully adult. I also realize that it cost 3 years that I could have had with the fuzzy duck and probably caused her more harm than the original relinquishment. I am just comming to terms with adoption and what it means. I can look back 38 years with some objectivity and understand the frightened young woman I was. It is harder to look back 6 years and understand how I could have been so closed off from reality. So much has changed in me since my reunion with the fuzzy duck and I am just starting to understand this new and improved me. Improved because I am learning to trust my emotions after spending 35 years trusting only cold fact and bowing to the alter of objectivity and logic. I am still learning that grtuitous hugs are wonderful and even the pain when the duck and I are at oddsis better than retreating from all emotion. I haven't tried it yet but I may actually be able to hold a baby and enjoy it. For 35 years I wouldn't hold a baby (there were a couple of unavoidable situations where one was thurst at me and I didn't jump out of the way fast enough). It doesn't take too much to figure out that one. If the baby wasn't my fuzzy duck I didn't want to be near it. Maybe I should try holding a baby now. I just might like it.

As usual, I am procrastinating. When I left tis story you had heard what I felt about the relinquishment. After I finally figured out that you don't get over it I spent a lot of time figuring out how to live with it. I did this by never talking about it. I have a very close friend who I have known for over 30 years who was astonished when I told her after my reunion with my fuzzy duck. So when I say I didn't talk about it. I'm not exagerating. My family learned quickly that if even a hint of it was brought up I would quickly change the subject or just walk away. I firmly believed that it was done and nothing could change it so talking would serve no purpose. That doesn't mean that I never thought about my fuzzy duck. I never stopped missing her and was aware of every birthday. Just when I would start to think that it was getting better someone or something or maybe for no reason she would pop into my head. Oddly enough she would pop into my head as a toddler then as a child, a teenager, a woman. I watched her grow up in a way. I think some mothers always think of an infant. I didn't. I got through it by being certain that I had done what was best for her. She had loving parents that were giving her everything that I couldn't. She didn't remember anything about me and didn't need me for anything. I might need her and miss her but I got exactly what I deserved for being a stupid slut when I was 22. The emptiness was my atonement. So now you have met the martyr. (I am still working on that one).

The first attempt at contact was a Letter I recieved from a social worker frm the Salvation Army. I was asked to contact them regarding THE child born in XXX on 99/99/9999. I ran upstairs to my bedroom bedroom and cried hysterically (very not typical behavior for me). I think I scared my poor husband half to death. When I told him about the letter he got me calmed down and asked what I wanted to do. He encouraged me to call and pointed out that she had every right to updated medical information. He also told me he would support me no matter what I decided. It was my decision and I needed to do what was right for me (I told you you he is a great guy and he has stood by me every step of this journey). I worked up my courage to call with the intent to give whatever information was requested and then retreat back into the shadows where I belonged. I was back to my usual calm exterior when I made the call and talked for a long time to the social worker. I was relieved when the social worker told me that my fuzzy duck was happily married with a young son and was a very articulate attactive woman. It sounded like she had everything I had always wanted for her. I updated all the medical information and told them they could contact me if there was ever any kind of medical emergency where she needed a biological match (the duck is still trying to figure out why I would give her a kidney but wouldn't talk to her). I also promised I would keep them updated with any new information. What I wouldn't do is hear either of the two letters she wrote, one if I wanted contact and one if I didn't. I couldn't face that. My daughter was a stranger. How could I still have my daughter when she spoke as a stranger and looked at me with mild curiousity? I had just given her everything she could need from me, medical stuff. So the answer to no contact is believing I could be nothing to her but a curiosity when she was my daughter and I wanted to and I wanted to give her everything. It is about fear. I'm not good enough for her, I will only be a disappointment to her but most of all I was afraid she couldn't care abot me.

It has just occurred to me I need to finish the story. Why I changed my mind. Perhaps more to the point, how the clever, stubborn little fuzzy duck finally brought me to my senses. That will be the next post. She is the only person in the world who could shake up my martyr ridden existance. She is still working on it. I don't know that she will ever really understand how wonderful I think she is.