3 Men and a Baby, or Two

I came across this article on facebook yesterday and read it and cannot believe the naivety behind the behaviour of all involved.

I would like to start out by saying I do not understand the circumstances in the US with birth certificates and adoptions. When a child is adopted, it’s legal status changes from it’s birth family being legally responsible, to the family that has adopted the child. That doesn’t take from the fact, that the birth parents “gave birth” along with supplying genetic material, cultural history and roots, for said child to root itself in society. Adopted families often fail to aknowledge this, and it is the most common reason for angst amongst my adoptee friends. Let’s call it what it is, an adoption certificate, it is not a certificate of birth. However for the sake of this post and going with what goes on in the US, I will go along with it.

So in this article, 3 men are applauding themselves for doing such a grand job of convincing a judge to name all three of them on a “birth certificate”. Not one of these men supplied the sperm for the subsequent child that was born. One of them did happen to have a friend who had spare embryos from IVF treatment that, and I quote, “they weren’t going to use” as if they were a three for two offer and they had excess veg that they gave to a neighbour rather than waste. So “with the help of a surrogate, their first child was born”. So not only is none of the three the gentic material, they then used a surrogate to incubate the baby, who was then relinquished, from the only world it knew, with it’s mother’s voice, it’s mother’s heartbeat and it’s mothers’ footsteps, to be relinquished to these three men.

At the surrogacy hearing, one of the parents, “Jenkins” said “It was like having ice water thrown on them” when the judge said that they couldn’t have what they wanted. Well Jenkins, I can tell from experience that what you have done to Piper, your child, is throw ice water over them, whilst shining a mega torch in their new born eyes, whilst banging a drum right next to their delicate hearing system, all at the same time, to your precious child. That is exactly how I describe what happened to me at birth, and even though I cannot recall it, my soul remembers it just as I described.

What a pity the judge didn’t turn round and tell you to grow up and that you can’t always get what you want. What a pity she didn’t insist that you read the Primal Wound or watch Paul Sunderland’s video on Adoption and Addiction.

The article goes on to say “If you’ve ever seen a court room drama where the innocent person gets off in the end – it was like that”. Sorry boys, but the only innocent in this, is the child, and you all acted like it was your right to get your three names on a piece of paper which totally disregards your child’s genetics, roots, culture, all the things that give us identity into who we are.

The men go on “We didn’t want media attention at the time”. Now they have a book due to be published in March, so they’re capitalising on their ground breaking decision now. The men are planning on being on the same page and have a consistent parenting style when their “Oldest has a tantrum like a reactor breaking down in Chernobyl. How much time for a time out” they ask?

I ask, no, I implore, that you do some reading to understand what you may have done to trigger your child to have a tantrum. Time out is really not the answer guys. Giving your child a time out is like the abandoning experience all over again for them. Your child expected to be placed in it’s mothers’ arms, but that expectation was not met, so when your child expects a soda and you give them milk you have not met their expectation – expect a major tantrum as the only way they have of dealing with it as a toddler. Doing time out is only going to reinforce that life is not good, it is not ok, and abandonment is never far away. Instead what your child needs is understanding, compassion, a hug when you think they deserve it the least.

You asked if the parent needs help or is (their behaviour) adding fuel to the fire? Please do your reading and research now. I am sure you love your children and they will love you in return, but love is not all it takes. Please read the books that are out there, from an adoptees perspective to try and see the world from your children’s point of view. Only then can you consider yourself Wise Men and consider the consequences that your actions may have on the health and wellbeing of your children.

Thank you for reading. This post is my own opinion in reaction to the article that was published on LGBTQ Nation on 17th Feb 2021. Do you have a different opinion on it? I would love to hear your thoughts.

Blessings and Joy, Joy

Baby shark

I came across this today, written by a fellow flourisher. Thought I would share it with you, as I ponder whether when the baby shark gets to sea, does the mother shark recognise it as hers. And where are the fathers in all this sharking around? Blessings J x

Life In-Between

I was watching a TV programme with David Attenborough the other night. No, that’s not quite right. I was in my living room on the sofa and he was in the telly box.

But anyway, did you know that mummy lemon sharks swim to the mangroves to give birth? I did not know that. The mummy shark knows where she was born herself and returns there to have her own babies. Once she has given birth the mummy shark has to cut and run immediately because she has to catch the tide back out to the ocean or she will die. That is literally the end of her parenting.

The baby shark stays with all the other baby sharks nestled deep in the mangroves in their very own shark nursery. The baby sharks swim and feed and sleep in the mangrove for at least 2 years just learning to be…

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The Healing Aroma of Apples

It is so easy, when you start to reflect on how your adoption has affected you, to filter everything through 3 words:

Rejection, Abandonment and Relinquishment

So it was very pleasant today to be transported back to my childhood and pleasant memories, brought about by apples.

Growing up, until the age of 10, when we moved house, we had 2 apple trees in our garden. Come the autumn we had a plethora of apples, and I remember spending time with my mum, checking the apples to see if they were bruised, had been pecked by the birds, or even worse, my nightmare, finding a wasp in them, drawn to the sweet sticky juices. These apples could not be stored in the boxes as one bad apple would spoil the crop. The unblemished apples would be stored, each one carefully separated from it’s neighbour. It would sit nestled in it’s own dimple designed to keep it from touching it’s apple siblings, the crop of the year. These chosen apples would be stored in a cool dark place ready to be dipped into throughout the winter. Oh how I wished I could join those apples in the dark secret place, under the stairs away from the rest of the family.

The apples that were left, the bruised and bird-pecked ones, were used for baking or for jam making, and this is the memory that is bubbling up as I peel, core and chop some apples and stew them ready to be frozen, in preparation for apple crumbles to be made throughout the winter. The comforting smell of apples and cloves, is wafting up through the house as I write this, reminding me of pleasant childhood memories.

It struck me, whilst I was preparing the apples, and looking ahead to the weeks and months ahead, when I will be enjoying not only the aroma but the taste as well. I was reminded of the situation and events of 2020 that have brought me to having so many apples in the first instance, as I have no apple trees in my garden. 2020 has been a year, the like of which we have never seen before. Healthy people have had to quarantine for a virus which has a 99%+ survival rate! Many of my clients have lost their jobs, and have been living off savings. They still have need of my services, but have no means of paying. So I ask them to “gift” something to me, in return for my gifting my skills and services. So a bag of apples appeared on my doorstep along with a jar of apple and bramble jam.

The story of the adopted child, is often one of adaptation. The child that can adapt to fit in with the family and surroundings, is a topic for delving into in another post. Is the child happier for adapting to fit in, or unhappier becasue he or she is no longer being true to self? They have become a chameleon. So the business that can adapt in 2020 will be the fittest to survive into 2021 and beyond. Will the adopted business-person have an advantage in that respect? Hmmm interesting thoughts to be expanded in a later post perhaps.

For now, I will savour the aroma of stewing apples which has transported me back to happy memories of my childhood and catapulted me forward in the anticipation of delicious apple crumbles of the future. I am sure that on the day of consumption I will be grateful to my client, who has given me more that he knows.

By scrumping and gifting me a bag of windfall apples, he has gifted me a window into childhood memories, that had lay like those stored apples, in the dark dimples of my memory bank.

Blessings and Joy, Joy

Would the Real Joy, Please Stand Up!

Can you remember where you were when you first saw the clip of Susan Boyle making her debut on Britain’s Got Talent? Can you remember your thoughts as you heard that 47 year old, “Just 1 side of me!” comment? I certainly do. Yesterday I saw another “Talent” clip, although this one was on Facebook, and from America’s Got Talent, and was shown I believe on Tuesday 9th June 2016, the same day as the Daily Propt was “Transformation”. What with being on holiday at the time, the time differences between Europe and the States, and the power of social media to mess with your head where timeframes are concerned, I apologise up front for any incorrect statements that I have just made. Anyway to the point of this blog.

This is the clip I saw. If you haven’t seen it yet, I say, “Where have you been?” and take a look now.

I think it apt that Grace was on AGT on the day that the Daily Prompt was transformation, because this young lady’s life is going to chnage beyond all recognition. I hope and pray that her transformation is handled in such a way that she rtains her innocence,beauty and “Grace”. Her singing and music was touching in it’s simplicity and the rawness of emotion that it evoked in me.

 

Grace Vanderwaal, I Don't KNow who I am,

 

Why did it do that?
2 reasons I think, summed up in the first 2 lines.

“I Don’t Know My Name!”

What adopted person does? We are born with one name, but then someone decides they might prefer another, and so we grow up with that. It is something that we grow up with, the uncertainty of knowing even the basics about ourselves, like our name at birth. For those of you who are not adopted, you will probably not understand how much you take for granted, the ability to ask your parents about yourself, your family history on health and genetics, where you come from, that sort of thing. We for the most part are left wondering do we have inherited diseases in our genes, will we develop something later in life, that we are already programmed at birth? Where do I come from? What can I expect to develop in my lifetime? Not just in health, but are there any Gifts and Special Abilities in our genes? The questions go on. Is this a Gift, wrapped in newspaper? The fact that my life can be completely written by me, because I don’t expect to develop the family traits, cos I don’t know what they are, I don’t know what makes me who I am?

Secondly “I Don’t Play By the Rules”

No neither do I. Why? Well I guess the first rule of a new life is that your Mother hangs around to show you the game and the rules to play by. If that cardinal rule is broken, then you are given carte blanche to say that I don’t play by them.

I will reflect more on this young ladies work and music. I hope she retains her innocence and grace, as she, and the rest of the world discovers who she is. I feel that her music and me discovering and writing about who I am, are going to be closley linked, even though I am probably old enough to be her granny. Who knows we may yet find out that we are related. Now wouldn’t that be a miracle?

Blessings Joy

It’s Just a Phase I Am Going Through

It’s lasted 55 years and I hope it is coming to an end, because everything is a phase isn’t it? And we get over all phases don’t we?

Phase transformation daily prompt

I have just come to the end of my patience with this one though, I refuse to continue to be in this “Phase” a moment longer. It is now time to move out of this one and into the next phase of my life.

In the next phase I will be Mistress of my own Castle. I feel a transformation and migration from this blog to one where I will reveal more. I need a title for it though. I have come up with a few:

The Cuckoos Call

Joy’s Jottings

Jottings by Joy

A Cuckoo is Calling

Joy’s Cuckoo

Which one is your favourite?

Wish I knew how to do polls on blogs, guess there is a plug-in?

Blessings Joy

 

 

Pensive v Procrastinate

For several years now I have been wanting to write my life story, because believe me East Enders script writers have nothing on me. A couple of weeks ago, a BBC Radio Wilts researcher contacted me, to ask me questions for an interview, because she had heard about me and thought I had lived an interesting life, one that their listeners would be interested to hear.

“Interesting” I said “You should try living it!”

Anyway I have done lots of work in preparation for the huge task of writing my story, and now I find myself in pensive mood, wondering where to go from here. Suzie at Suzie81speaks is often sharing other blogs that she has come across. One that stood out for me was Journey to Ambeth  “Stuck on your Bio” post. It got me pensing, and I wrote my bio. I have to admit that I am not quite ready to share it with you yet, but I will.

Am I being pensive or just procrastinating?

Impossible until it's done

Blessings Joy

Abandoned

Rhythms of Abandonment

I listened to the rhythms of your body

Your heartbeat, your footsteps, your breathing

Endured your tossing and turning

Between relationships

Now you want me, now you don’t

Do I have a say in the matter?

Apparently not!

 

Squeezing, more bodily rhythms

Lowing like cattle, roaring like a lion

Outside now, not at your breast nor in your arms

Just hearing the rhythm of your footsteps

Fading away, you didn’t even take one look

An ice cold bath thrown over me

Severed Love!

 

Thank you for reading

Blessings Joy