Yesterday was my
birthday. Like many adoptees my birthday
has traditionally not been a particularly happy day in my life. Up until recently I never knew why that was,
but it always felt wrong. Mostly I spend
it torn between wanting to forget it is happening and hoping the people close
to me will recognize it. This year was
somewhat different because I was visiting my mom and family. So, there was something more of a celebration
than there is historically. It was a
nice change and I had a good time. I
wish my wife and kids could have been there also, but otherwise I couldn’t ask
for more.
There has to be a catch
right, otherwise why am I making this post?
The catch, as it often is, is my adoptive parents. On Sunday (the day before my birthday) I got
a call from my adoptive mother that my adoptive father was in the
hospital. His health has been pretty bad
for the last several years so that news didn’t come as a particular surprise. I spent a lot of time over the last couple of
days wondering if I needed to go there and trying to get more information about
his condition so I could make that decision.
Each time I talked to her she told me I didn’t need to come and when I
talked to him he sounded better than he has recently. I eventually decided not to go there.
When she called me on
Sunday evening my adoptive mother said something like “happy birthday for
tomorrow.” Once she said that she told
me briefly about my father’s condition and then told me about her ailments and
how many people were around to help her.
She assured me that she was fine, though why she thought I would be more
concerned about her than him I am not clear on.
I talked to her three times yesterday (twice after she failed to call me
after getting new information despite telling me she would call if she found
out anything new). She never once
mentioned my birthday. I talked him
once. He also didn’t mention my birthday
(though this is understandable since he is in the hospital). I talked to her again today on my way home,
again no mention of my birthday.
Normally my adoptive
mother sends me a couple of (usually creepy) ecards for my birthday and also
mails one. When I got home today no
birthday card had arrived nor had I received any ecards. I can understand the
lack of ecards (if she is concerned about him) but a mailed birthday card would
have been sent prior to his hospitalization.
I can only assume that my birthday simply isn’t that important to
her. He husband also doesn’t seem to be
that important to her as she has yet to visit him in the hospital.
This is just one
example in many of how she has been indifferent to me over the years. I’d be a lot more likely to understand if
everything with my father had caused it, but it doesn’t actually seem to be
related. I’ve always felt like I wasn’t
a priority to her and this is just one example of why.
I’m very glad I have my
natural family now. I always enjoy the
time spent with them. Unfortunately
every visit there is also somewhat melancholy because of all the family
pictures I am not in, the family anecdotes I don’t know, and the experiences I
didn’t share. Combine that with the
traditional birthday depression I tend to get and being basically ignored by my
adoptive family and I end up posting here whining about it. Thanks adoption.
