I am adopted and would very much like to discuss this topic with you further in depth...outside of this thread and outside the other issues that led me to this board. I know there has been a lot of debate and discussion regarding my life and situation. All of you are entitled to your opinions and I do fully understand exactly how and why my mere presence is such an affront to many BS everywhere.
If there are some who would like to discuss this further and are really interested in trying to at least understand my complex situation I am willing to give it a try. I was hurt by many comments here and I am not in any way saying that I do not deserve to be hurt. I am painfully aware of the hurt that I have caused other people in my life and for what it is worth I have sincerely apologized to all of those (well at least I think all I know of) that I have hurt as a result of my sinful behavior.
One wise poster I cannot remember which seemed to pick up on a sense of detachment in me. This keen poster saw something I am not sure how but they did. They recognized at the time of my last posting that I was borderline suicidal. Just because someone contemplates suicide doesn't mean as in my case they would actually kill them self. I felt like it yes...but I have children and family and no matter how much I may hurt they are never to be punished in that way.
At 17 my BF of a couple of months shot himself in the head and died. That was almost 21 years ago. It still struggle with understanding how a beautiful 18 year old boy with so much potential could do this. It nearly destroyed me. At 17 I thought if I tried to put myself in his mindset it would help me to understand. It wasn't a wise decision. What I have learned over the years is that suicide is not a viable option. It leaves behind so much brokenness that requires a lot of fixing and some of the damage cannot ever be completely repaired. Every time I find myself thinking of this I think of his mom. My pain is trivial when I think of what his mother had to endure.
My reason for bringing this up and this isn't to ask anyone to behave anyway other than the way they feel is really right for them is just to say one thing...you really never know how much your words can hurt another person. None of us really knows just how fragile the person on the other end of the keyboard is. We just don't know.
I understand that there are many here who feel that they not only can't but shouldn't help me. I understand and respect your decision. Please know that I am really trying here. I am not expecting anyone to like me or my situation. I don't like me or my situation right now either. And for the record I never said I was justified in having an A. I was NOT. I was wrong...I never thought it was right or okay. I am living with the consequences of my sins. How this will all turn out only God knows that.
And yes, I do believe in God...have I always listened to him? No, it is painfully obvious that I was so far away from God for a long time. Many things have happened in the course of my life that have caused me to question God and because God is willing to look after even one lost sheep he has the infinite wisdom to never give up on us...never write us off as permanently defective goods.
For much of my life I felt subhuman and certainly not worth anything. God has taken care of me more than I deserve. It is my sincere hope that someday with a lot of work that I can become a better person.
Jilly
This is my post from MM thread. My current situation for those that don't already know it is this. 11 years (1995) ago I was married to someone else. We had been married about a year. I began an affair with a married man. He had been married about 2 years and had a very young son. I separated from my XH shortly after the affair began. I knew it was wrong. I make no excuses for my behavior.
My affair partner also separated from his wife. We lived separately in separate towns but continued our affair. We both divorced. We were together about a year when I moved to the town he lived in. About 6 (1997) months later we bought a house and moved in together. We had talked of getting married many times but we did not marry...not yet. But yes, I married my affair partner.
Fast forward 11 years and my H had an A. So now I am a BS of sorts. I don't fit into the typical BS category. I was the OW. I was a WW. I have been faithful to my H. Our situation is extremely complicated and offensive to many. I am humbly saying I am sorry to all BS on this site and if I am sorry, really sorry for all of your pain. If you want to hit me with your anger I will accept it. You are entitled. You are entitled to feel whatever way you do about me.
Please know that I am trying very hard right now to figure this all out. I don't have the answers to any of it. I am just trying to learn, to grow and to become a better person. I will answer questions as honestly and openly as I can. Some of what I say may appear as fog. I am hesitant to say anything about my XH because I am not sure what will be considered fog from what is fact. I will give only 3 facts about him that I am pretty sure aren't for.
Fact: He is a diagnosed Paranoid Schizophrenic. He was not diagnosed prior to or during our relationship or marriage. That is not to say that he wasn't in the early stages of this illness because I believe that he was. He refuses his diagnosis and will NOT take the medication that could help him. Instead he chooses to self medicate.
Fact: He is an alcoholic. I knew to some extent that he had a drinking problem when we were together. That I own.
Fact: He is a meth addict. He was not using meth to my knowledge when we were together but I am not positive. I know that meth can cause a psychotic break but knowing now that schizophrenia runs in his family leads me to believe that the meth did not cause his mental illness.
Okay I guess it is 4 facts. He remarried. His second wife left him after less than a year of marriage. I don't know her or what her reasons are for leaving him. I don't think he was diagnosed until after their divorce but I am not sure. The information I have comes from his sister.
I am not saying that any of this was reason for me to have an A. Nothing justifies my behavior. I know this. However what I will say is that to anyone who suggests that I divorce my current H and remarry/go back to my XH this is just not going to happen ever. He isn't an evil person. I am not in any way saying that...just a very sick one. We didn't have any children together and I don't think he had any kids with his second wife.
We had always practiced birth control. In Sept. of 1998 I fell and broke my foot. I was on several medications for this injury. One would think that I would have been smart enough to realize that certain medications interact with BC pills but I wasn't. In Oct. of 1998, I found out I was pregnant. The same week that I found out that I was pregnant I also found out that my mom's long term (many years) battle with breast cancer (radical mastectomy, chemo, the whole deal...she was in remission for a little over 4 years when they realized that the breast cancer was back. She underwent more chemo and seemed to be doing okay for a few more years. She was working as she always had as a nurse.) had spread to her brain. The prognosis was grim. There were 5 tumors in her brain, the largest the size of a walnut located near the brainstem. Because of the location of the largest tumor the doctors felt that it was inoperable at the time and it was recommended that she undergo radiation however the told us she was going to die...it wasn't a matter of years. Doctors said six months at most. I was devastated.
My next post will talk about my adoption and how I came into this world. But for this post know that the love I had (still have) for my mom was the strongest bond I knew. She was the only person in my life that ever truly showed me the meaning of unconditional love.
Regarding the pregnancy...neither one of us was sure what to do. We thought of all the options. Yes, unfortunately we considered them all. Adoption was NOT an option for me. As an adopted child I knew that I was not capable of giving up a child. We considered abortion. That too was not an option that either one of felt we could live with. We considered just staying together unmarried and raising the baby. In the end we chose to get married. We married in Nov. of 1998 in the living room of our house. The guest list was very short. It included the minister who counseled us (she knew our circumstances as did our families) and married us, my H's parents, my mom, my H's grandmother, and his son who was 4.
My sister, my mom, and I spent the Thanksgiving/ Christmas holidays with my H's family. My mom's health was rapidly declining. My mom and I lived in the same town. My sister lived 2 hours away. She quit her job (not a very good job so this wasn't a difficult decision for her) and moved in with my mom to become her primary care giver. Hospice was brought in and although I was teaching I spent the majority of the rest of my time at my mom's. It was not easy for us to watch my mom slipping away. Our parents had been divorced since we were very little. I was about 5 and my sister (who is only 6 months younger..the ages seem confusing but remember I am adopted) and my mom never remarried. My dad had been remarried since we were about 6 or 7. So my dad was not directly involved in any of the hospice care.
Anyone who has ever been involved in a hospice death knows how this goes. Her health rapidly declined and because the tumors were in her brain her speech and ability to walk became affected. January was not a good month. My mom stopped eating and was barely able to drink anything. A hospital bed was brought into her living room because it was hard for her to get in and out of bed to go to the bathroom etc. My mom had many good friends. People who came to help my sister and I. Friends who were radically honest with us and helped us to have hard conversations with our mom. Towards the end of January she became completely bedridden and was now mortified that she no longer could get up to go to the bathroom. No mother ever expects her children to be caring for her in much the same way she cared for them when they were babies. At some point she stopped being able to really drink anything and not only was her speech impaired but now her vision was also declining. We began to use these things called glycerin swabs (they are like a little wet sponge on a stick) to keep her mouth moist. She had difficulty swallowing. For some reason her body chemistry could not tolerate narcotic pain medication so when she could we gave her children's liquid Motrin. She was prescribed an ativan but she didn't want to take that either. She would only allow my sister to give it to her and even then she wanted my sister to break them in half and was always sure my sister was trying to give her more than half.
The first weekend in Feb. it was decided that my sister would go home for the weekend to see her BF and friends. She hadn't been home in over a month and she needed to go. A couple of my mom's friends were at the house staying the weekend and we hired a hospice volunteer (not a nurse but someone that had some medical training) to spend the nights there while my sister was gone. My sister left Friday afternoon. I stayed at my mom's until around 11pm and then after she was down for the night I drove the couple blocks to my home. I always drove over...not sure why I just always did.
Saturday was my stepson's b'day party at his mom's house. I had planned to go see my mom and then go to the party. When I got up Saturday morning I felt the strongest sense of urgency to go to my mom's immediately. For some reason I decided to walk. When I got there she was awake and semi coherent. A good friend of hers from high school that she hadn't seen in many years had drove to see her so she plus a few other of my mom's friends, the hospice volunteer and I were there. My mom had a DNR order. She was in pain and I tried to give her some Motrin but she was choking on it so I stopped. She pulled my head toward hers and whispered in my ear...Jillygirl don't leave. I said okay Mommy I'll stay. I called my H to tell him that I wasn't going to be able to leave for the party. He said he understood.
I went into the bedroom where her computer was to print off her emails to read to her. Something my sister and I did everyday. She got tons of emails and regular mail daily. I was in the other room when the hospice volunteer came in and said you better come right now. All my mom's friends were gathered around the bed and the volunteer was checking her vitals and telling us she was going. My mom's friends were all saying it's alright, go to the light. I was NOT saying this I lay down on the bed with her and began screaming No mommy no mommy don't go. She went. I remember a lot of things going on around me. I remember the volunteer saying she was gone. I refused to believe her and started into a full blown panic calling our regular hospice nurse who said she would be right there. I asked could I call 911...she said I could but because she had a DNR that they wouldn't be able to do anything’s tried to call my sister but kept getting her voice mail. I didn't know what kind of message to leave but I knew I couldn't leave her a voice mail that said Mommy's dead. I think I said something like you need to call me NOW it's an emergency.
I lay back down on the bed with my mom. Our regular hospice nurse came. I asked her to make sure she was really dead. She did. She was. I remember the hospice nurse clearing out the house of everyone except herself and me. I lay on the bed sobbing uncontrollably. I don't know how long I lay there. The hospice nurse busied herself with removing medical equipment. She would stop periodically and put her hand on my back. She told me I could lay there for as long as I needed to. She wouldn't call the necessary people until I was ready. I don't know how long I lay there...I know it got dark. At some point I called my H and my dad. I remember my H coming. I remember we were standing in the back in the screened porch. I don’t remember what he said exactly. I knew he was worried because I was 5 months pregnant.
At some point my dad and stepmom came. I didn't ask them to come. They live two hours away. I told my H to go home. I remember my stepmom saying my mom looked beautiful. My dad said something about her looking peaceful and that she wasn't going to have to suffer anymore. She had suffered long enough. My mom's friends came back with food. People were trying to get me to eat. I didn't want to eat. I do remember asking someone to turn off the Enya CD that had been on continuous repeat all day.
The man that took care of dealing with the body was a good friend of my mom's from HS also. When she got sick he sent her a card every day until she died. He was a good friend. A good man. He owned a mortuary two hours away. He had come to visit my mom earlier and told my sister and me that when the time came that he would take care of everything himself. My mom wanted to be cremated. I remember him coming some point that evening. I love this man for his gentle and kind way.
He knew I was a complete basket case yet somehow he was able to help me. An outfit had to be chosen for her. I remember him telling me when I was ready step by step what he was going to do. The hospice nurse dressed my mom. He said I am going to bring in the bag now. My dad helped him I remember this. I watched as they put her in the body bag and zipped her up. The brought in something a gurney maybe and my dad and this man lifted her on and rolled her out to the hearse. At some point someone started to strip the bed and I remember freaking out telling them to stop...don't touch anything...don't throw anything away.
After the man left with my mom's body my dad decided that I needed to go home. They drove me home. I went to bed. I cried and cried. My H was beside himself because he didn't know what to do to help me. I went to sleep and when I woke up the next morning it took me a few moments to realize that yes it had really happened. Yes she was really gone forever. Her death profoundly changed me. I don't know really how to explain it at all. We used to be on year round school here so I was fortunate in that I had the rest of the month off.
This time is so bittersweet in my life. Losing my mom while being pregnant with my own daughter. My first known biological family. God carried me literally through the rest of my pregnancy. I returned to work in March. I began to have early contractions. At first it was thought to be Braxton hicks but later other complications arose and I was put on medication to stop the contractions. Although the meds helped eventually I was put on bed rest for the remainder of my pregnancy.
At 37 weeks I went into labor. I awoke at 4am to feel the baby move up and then down and all of sudden I was all wet. It didn't occur to me right off that my water had broken. I woke my H up and told him. I wanted to take a shower etc. My H said I would have plenty of time that with a first baby the labor could last hours. He was wrong. Knowing only what I had read in books etc. I assumed that my labor would be much longer too. After I got out of the shower I kept feeling like I had to go to the bathroom. I didn't know that this feeling was me pushing....laboring. When I was unable to get myself dressed alone...contractions were so close together that my H had to help me get dressed. I kept saying I had to go to the bathroom. Eventually when he heard/saw me grunting in the bathroom and every time I came out I felt the urge to squat on the floor he decided we needed to go to the hospital. He kept telling me to stop pushing in the car...I couldn't stop. We arrived at the hospital around 6am. When they got me to the labor floor they told me to undress. I tried but kept squatting and pushing. The nurse realized there was a problem. They undressed me and she examined me and she said that I was fully dilated. They rolled me into the delivery room. They were trying to get a hold of my OB. They didn't think he was going to make it so they told us they were going to bring the resident up from the ER to deliver. When he came in I swear it was Doogie Houser. I am thinking this guy is what 12? Are you kidding me? My doctor did make it and Doogie asked if he could stay and watch. I didn't care at this point if they wanted to film it for the news. All I could do was push. I didn't have to push very much. Our daughter was born at 6:30am. My biggest fear was that her lungs wouldn't be fully developed but they were. She was fine.
The next few weeks brought on a whole slew of emotions. I don't know if I had postpartum or if it was just normal grief from the death of my mom but I cried everyday not all day...just some everyday. One thing that happened after her birth was I discovered for myself just how much a mother loves her child. This was overwhelming because as I realized this I also saw how much my own mom loved me. It also stirred up a lot of feelings about being adopted. I at the time hadn't not found out my biological history so there was a part of me that was so primaly hurt at the thought of giving up a child. When I would look at my baby I asked myself how could she give me away. Unless you are adopted it will be hard to understand this profound sense of being unwanted. This has nothing to do with my parents...I knew they loved me. It was about my bio mom. It is hard to explain and hard to reconcile with myself. The birth of my child coupled so closely with the death of my mom affected me in the way that I dealt with everyone else in my life. My H was very supportive but not trained to help me with what I was going through. I focused on the baby almost entirely to the detriment of my M. I felt that I had to become the best mom in the world to be worthy of this gift that I felt God gave me at the time when I needed this child to love. God knows what we I need believe this with every fiber of my being. He knows and he provides whether we think we are worthy or not. I have struggled with issues of self worth my whole life. Some of your posts have helped me to see that God knows what we are worth and we are the ones that need to believe it.
I don't know why I started here. I guess I don't really know where to start.
MM I would like to recommend a book to you regarding adoption calld
The Primal Wound by Nancy Verrier. If you are indead headed for a divorce this book may help you to address some of the issues your adopted son may have regarding abadonment. I know you are NOT abadoning your son in any way. I don't know what the circumstances are regarding his birth father. How old are your boys? Does your son know anything about his bio father? If so what and how was he told? Do your boys know or think that you are getting a D? Are you currently living with your wife and if not where are the kids? What is the visitation schedule like? I know I am asking a lot of personal questions about your situation but I really do think that possibly I could help your with the care of your adopted son. I am not a trained professional but I have done a lot of research so I can offer you what I have learned. Some of it may apply and some may not. I am not sure if because of my current life situation you would trust me to advise you regarding this but it is a genuine offer.I not only respect that you don't email woman I admire that. I am thinking this is why the PM feature of this board isn't used but I for one think it is for the best. Anyway let me know if you want to continue an adoption discussion.
Jilly