Jeanne

Although my birthdaughter, Jeanne, and I have been corresponding for nearly ten years, we recently met again for the third time. Jeanne, her husband and their daughters would be coming to Wisconsin since he had a business meeting scheduled. The plan evolved quickly and within a week we had all of the arrangements confirmed.

My heart was bursting with joy while my stomach maintained a reasonable dose of butterflies! Our last visit had been in 1994. At that time I had met her adoptive parents and she had met my parents and my aunt. I have since lost my father and my dear aunt which makes those memories even more special. My aunt had taken me in during my period of confinement and witnessed the birth of my daughter in 1966. We had an especially close bond. She was the one who held my child, the child I was not allowed to see. My closed adoption experience was to be forgotten and never discussed ...according to the agency.

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Honoring that promise was not easy but I held the secret of my illegitimate firstborn for nearly thirty years. Then, in 1993, she searched for and contacted me. Within one month we met ...face to face for the first time. Our three days together helped dismiss falsehoods and innuendos. I answered every question honestly. It was a clean and thorough connecting time. We parted in tears vowing to be together again and again. At first, we talked on the phone daily. The letters and photos flowed freely ...our puzzle appeared to be complete. I invited her to a family reunion and even purchased her airline ticket when she sounded so enthusiastic. Suddenly, as the upcoming visit got closer she seemed "too busy" to talk and made herself conveniently "unavailable".

My heart was aching. My long-hidden burden of secrecy was presenting itself in flashbacks. I found myself recreating the office surroundings where official papers had been signed. I could envision the fountain pen in my trembling hand as I tried to avoid marking the bright white paper filled with legal jargon typed boldly in black. Like dark magic, I could recreate this particular mental image over and over. I literally forced myself to dwell on the circumstances which ended with the signing of termination of parental rights documentation. A painful time of my life had been stuffed away for many years, and was obviously suppressed by my loyalty to the system. Unresolved issues cluttered my thinking turning days into nights. My fogged memories evoked painful tears that needed desperately to spew forth. In 1966 I had cried and prayed for her contentment. For the days, months and years that followed, I kept my feelings contained on canvas as I painted her image over and over. After our first and second meetings, she was in need of "space". As difficult as it was to accept her pulling back, it was necessary. She was feeling a struggle within her own heart. She has wonderful parents and was blessed with a very strong family image. So just where did I really fit in?

It has taken every bit of a half decade to arrive at this comfortable post-adoption zone we now own. It is our story. It is sacred and respected. Jeanne has always called me Susie, not "mom" so the introduction to her young daughters was simple ...I was introduced as her friend Susie from Wisconsin. Our mini vacation unfolded in kid-like fashion as we swam together, bought special chocolates, ate hotdogs and pizza, played Barbie Undo, held hands, spent time with lambs and rabbits at a petting zoo, chased butterflies, and picked wild flowers. While viewing the birds and animals in the public zoo, I was able to secure a couple of lovely peacock feathers for the girls. After thanking the zookeeper for this favor, I learned that peacocks shed their feathers but once a year ...I remember feeling shivers and thinking how nice it was to have been in the right place at the right time. It has been said that "timing is everything".

Jeanne's oldest daughter carried her bigger-than-life peacock feather close to her body so the wind wouldn't harm it. The temperature was 75, and the sky was unusually blue as a birthmother and her daughter strolled side by side back to the car. There was a peaceful ambiance which surrounded all of us. Then, I heard the soft voice of her oldest daughter say "Mommy, this was the best day ever, I will never ever forget it". Jeanne and I looked at one another and blinked away our "family" tears. My heart is healing.

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