All Good Things Must Come to an End (Or at least go private)

When Captain Knuckle was just 6 weeks old, I made one last attempt to reconcile with my bio-dad. It was Christmas Eve day 1996 and I had stopped by his house with my now-ex husband.  We went into my dad’s office there at the house in Orem – the one I grew up in, the one I spent all of my pregnancy with you in, the one to which I brought you home from the hospital.  I stood by my bio-dad as he sat in front of his computer as he went on and on and on about our genealogy and our dead relatives. He started crying (oh man, it was an ugly, ugly cry) when he talked about his two sisters who died the day they were born and my sister Carolyn who had been killed in a car accident seven years before.

And he went on and on and on

I stood there cradling my sweet little Captain Knuckle in my arms – both of us very real, very alive, and very much here and now, in the present. There I stood in the flesh….while my bio dad sobbed over dead people.  At some point, hot tears slipped out of my eyes and I looked up from Captain Knuckle and said to him, “Dad, what about us? We are here with you right now. Do we matter to you too?”

He turned away from me and never answered.

I tell you this because the other night, I realized I had become my bio-dad.

Little Penelope was not sleeping well and so at around 3:00 a.m. I brought her downstairs to my office so she could play while I tried to work. Needless to say, dissertation writing at 3:30 a.m. with no sleep is hard work. Dissertation writing at 3:30 a.m. with no sleep and a squishy baby girl crawling around the office is impossible. I found myself surfing some LDS “adoption is a miracle and a blessing” blogs because believe it or not, I really do try to make an effort to understand both sides of the discussion. Let’s just say what I stumbled upon in the wee small hours of the morning was n.o.t. pretty.

Strewn here and there throughout various blogs’ comments, I kept finding buried references to this blog.  Very few of them were accurate portrayals of the letters I write here but in spite of this, I could shake it off.  After all, what do they really know of my heart? Of who I am truly am? Of what  I have accomplished or become in my life? They read maybe one blog entry, formed their (incorrect) opinion of me and then merrily skipped along, blissful and happy with their fabulously perfect adoptions.

Then I started finding comments written by some of the women who have occasionally visited this blog and those comments were…uh…how do I put this nicely without calling them very ugly words and truly sounding like I am angry, bitter, and lashing out?

Hmmm…I can’t seem to find a way to do that.

Let me just say these “sisters” in the gospel know exactly who they are and I hope as they read this  letter, their face grows red with shame and their conscience (if they have one) pricks their heart (if they have one). So just for them, here’s the angry, lashing out version of Melynda: Ladies (if I can even call you that) I hope your duplicitous, self-righteous, covetous, narrow-minded, avaricious, deceitful, spiteful behavior comes back to you seven times seventy fold.   You deserve every bit of bad karma that comes your way. /lashing out

So there I was, 3:30 a.m. with little Penelope playing at my feet, occasionally crawling over for a quick hug and a kiss before she crawled away again to conquer the pile of blocks or shred more magazines. I was angry and I was about to have a “come to Jesus meetin’ “ with all those lovely two-faced women. If there is one thing you don’t do it is piss off the pointy-head and trust me – the pointy-head was pissed. off. Frothing at the mouth and ready to use every bit of intellectual acumen to shred every single one of them type of pissed off. Rarely do I use my intellect to severely upbraid or censure someone but they were all about to be upbraided in a way they have never been upbraided before.

I started to do it too. Oh how I unleashed the pointy-head. Words flew from my fingers at the speed of light. I quoted scientific studies from refereed journals, articles, scriptures, prophets and apostles, hymns, literature – you name it, I used it to completely dismantle their argument about the “miracle and blessing” of infant adoption. I was on a roll and it was filled with righteous anger – it was full of truth and raw honesty – no sugar coating it or trying to play nice.  The gloves were off and I was taking no prisoners.

About 20 minutes into the clickety-clacking of my response, Penelope crawled up to me for another snuggle and a kiss.  I was the tiniest bit irritated that she was bothering me when I was on such a roll but I never turn down a snuggle from my children so I reached down and lifted her up.  Her warm body melted into me, her head resting on my shoulder and her heart beating next to mine. And that’s when it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I have turned into my bio-dad.

I realized I have been chasing a ghost daughter. I realized that the hot, heavy tears I wept that night for you were for an intangible daughter who was just as gone from my life as my beloved older sister who passed away 2 ½ years before you were born.

I had been weeping for a daughter who has no need for me while right here in front of me is a daughter very much alive, and very much in need of me here and now – and not in some hypothetical sense.  She has two older brothers who deserve all of me too – they are just as real and alive in my life as Penelope. There is no mistaking they need my time, attention, and love in very tangible and applied ways.

In that moment, I decided to close my blog to the prying eyes of people who have been coming here merely to “watch a train wreck” they “can’t turn away from.” These letters were never about or for anyone other than you. Frankly, those kinds of people do not deserve to witness my life or my feelings. I will no longer cast my pearls before swines.

While I do not regret publishing these 190+ letters over the past three years and will cherish the friends it has brought to me, I am not wasting one more single precious moment of my life or Princess P’s life or Captain Knuckle or the Professor’s life responding to baseless attacks against my character from blissful birth mommies and overjoyed adopters simply because I am speaking my truth. I am choosing to focus on other things.

I will keep writing. It’s what women like you and I do. If our DNA was ever unraveled, they would find a novel instead of the normal base pairs. Women like you and I,  we write because we breathe. We breathe because we write.  If I should pass before you find this blog, I have given the password to Jeff so he can give it to you. He is planning on sticking around until he is at least 100 so hopefully he will remember where I wrote it down. I don’t mean to sound morbid, but let’s face it—accidents happen, disease can be swift, and none of us is immune to death and the vicissitudes of life.


23 thoughts on “All Good Things Must Come to an End (Or at least go private)

  1. Oh, I am going to miss your blog and voice so much. 😦 I know you are doing what you need to do for yourself and your family and I really admire you for that. I am so sorry that others have judged and gotten caught up in finger-pointing and blame through your blog. You are a very gifted writer (I agree with you about the DNA!) and I have admired the way you speak your truth and try to understand both sides of this complicated world of adoption. Your thoughts have comforted me and made me ponder, ask questions, and dig deep, and that has helped me, as a new birthmother, come to terms with some of this experience. I will be thinking of you fondly and wish you all the best.

  2. You will be missed. Thank you for sharing so thoughtfully and honestly with us, your readers, for so long.

    (Someone really called this amazing blog a train wreck? How absurd.)

    • Yes, that train wreck comment struck me too… I personally think M does a very good job of making this blog quite light and in many ways, nice. I am so much more of a train wreck than her lol!!!

  3. Sweetheart, say the word and I will jump all over those vultures. I know that you need to closed the blog for your own reasons, but it makes me angry that you had to read those hateful words. I love you.

  4. 😦 😦 😦 YOU WILL BE SO MISSED!!! Please find me on Facebook so I can keep in touch with you. I am so very sorry you feel the need to take the blog private… but I really understand what you are saying. Boy do I ever. Especially about how your present children need you.

    I am so very sorry there are such weak minded morons out there who are so shallow and have no real depth or understanding in their life they have forced this decision. I am so sorry they have been so cowardly as to lash out at you and have shown how wrapped they are in themselves they cannot see past the end of their noses and show compassion and love to another woman. What this does, is show them up for who they are. But it doesn’t help you and your family.

    Take care M and be good to yourself. Enjoy your beautiful children and I will be praying that very soon ALL your children will be in your arms. You deserve all the happiness in the world.

    If you ever need to chat/vent/rant, I am only an email away.

    Lots of love,
    Myst xxx

  5. I second what ALBL said. I have only just recently found your blog, and I must say it is one of my favorites. I was talking to my youngest sons Amom just the other day about how amazing your blog is. While I understand why, I hate that you are making it private. There is a huge need for a blog like yours. I believe this is the only blog written by a first mother associated with the LDS church that is written with complete HONESTY. I am sad that it is now going away, and that any LDS birth moms who are looking for someone to relate to, to know that it’s normal for them to not completely love adoption, will no longer be able to find it. You and your blog will certainly be missed 😦
    If you decide to allow certain people to still read your blog, would you mind sending me an invite?

  6. I hope you reconsider, M. I know how easy it is to get discouraged, especially when there are so many ridiculous happy-happy-happy-we-got-a-stranger-baby people out there slamming those of us who dare to tell the truth about the evil side of the adoption industry….but for what it’s worth, I hate to see you silenced.

  7. If you choose to allow certain people to still read your blog, please add me to the list. I will keep it confidential.

    I totally understand what you are doing, and hope you can find closure and acceptance. I grieved for a birthmom I never had, and after 44 years Jane still grieves very acutely for a daughter that is lost to her. Even though we now are in contact with each other, the family relationship we would have had is dead. We have been unable to develop a new healthy relationship thus far, because rage inserts itself so frequently. I think there must be a time for closure, a time to say goodbye to what is lost. The unresolved greiving has been very destructive for my birthmother and I, and it is time to let it go.

    I take great comfort in the atonement of my Savior, which I know can heal all soul wounds over time. And I have great faith that although earthly families get messed up, I am always a child of God. Before my birthmother ever thought of an adoption plan for me, my Heavenly Parents had a plan for me. It’s easy to get lost in the details and forget that the purpose of this life is have a great reunion with our Heavenly Mother and Father.

  8. I can really relate to how the grief can consume you that you miss out on the children that are with you and need you. I am sorry to see your blog closing. I hope the best for you. I hope someday your daughter will be more than a ghost to you.

  9. I was so concerned to see your blog down.

    I am going to miss reading your blog. I do read several blogs– some of the happy-happy ones- but I want a full picture and that can so difficult when good bloggers such as you are silenced due to the meanness of others.

    I have not ever thought of you as a train-wreck. Such harsh words! How could anyone ever get that from reading your blog?

    I just don’t get why so many afamilies are easily threatened by hearing a different perspective than they have. There is much to be learned by so many and I think your blog really goes a long way in teaching.

    I realize that it is likely not your intent for your blog to be a means for teaching and I do hope that someday your letters find their way to the one for whom they are written.

    I wish you all the best in the future!

  10. As an adult who has experienced being the daughter who has also uttered the words,”..what about us? We are here with you right now. Do we matter to you too?” referencing my son and I, let me just say thank you. All of your children will thank you also, maybe not ever in their words but in their growth and development. Correct me if I’m wrong but what I take from this post is that you are not apologizing for writing to your daughter, you’re owning the misplaced energy you’ve given to those who are either undeserving period or who aren’t yet present physically and/or emotionally, robbing those who are present and need the best of you. I’m sorry your bio dad turned away.

  11. I will miss your words. I do understand your reason for going private. I do think us moms that have lived adoption for decades need a voice. the pain and the hurt changes but does not go away. We might have more children but we never forget the child we placed. We do have to be there for are raised children 150%. They have missed out on there relationship with a sibling. We have to help them understand this crazy world called adoption. It is not an easy path but it is one we have chosen. If you ever allow others to read can you add me @

  12. Well, since everybody is talking HERE, (Just as if your other blogs are hard to find), I must say that I was initially worried, but hoped that your teenage daughter had asked to take them down. Your description of why you removed this blog from the public part of the internet is somewhat less joyful, but shows that you are “healing”, becoming a better person and perhaps better able to handle the stress of a reunion. Congratulations with all that.

  13. I agree with all the others, don’t have anything to add. I will miss you too, and wish you all the best. I hope that one day ALL of your children will be able to enjoy your full attention and love.

    God Bless ~

  14. I am so sad to hear that you are going private. It makes me sad that you feel like you have to, but I completely understand.

    I’m sure I’ve told you this before, but you are the only “birth” mother that I have found that I can truly relate to. Although I don’t comment often I have loved reading your blog knowing that there is someone else out there like me. Please take care and if you ever decide to restart the blog or share these views and opinions elsewhere please let me know.

  15. I’m just a lurker coming out to say that I will miss reading your blog too. I started reading adoption blogs as a potential adoptive mother (and have since mostly abandoned the idea except for possibly foster-adoption one day). It is blogs like yours that help people (like me) see the other side of it. Your blog is eye opening. And I am grateful I’ve been able to hear your story.

  16. Oh M, I don’t have the words to express to you how sorry I am. Sorry for everything you have gone through with your adoption experience. Sorry for the ways you are treated for no other reason than you dare to stand up and speak your truth and challenge the old, antiquated ways of adoption.

    You have been so amazing in everything you have shared with the world. I can still remember that first time you left a comment on my blog. It was like meeting a wonderful new friend and just knowing I had a true ally in my corner and could only hope to be the same in return.

    Like Myst, I hope you will find me if you are on Facebook. And if you do continue to write here on tihs blog, I would be more than grateful if you would allow me to continue to read and learn from you.

    My heart breaks for you and for what you have gone through. Just remember, for those who play the two-faced card, there are many of us who have a wonderful respect for you and for all you do in the world of adoption reform. What they do is cowardly. What you do is beyond brave!

  17. 😦 I’m so sad to read this post. I second Ashleigh’s words. Your blog has been an important thing for me to read, as an adoptive mother. I need and want to know all of the feelings that happen in each side of the triad – good, bad and ugly. It’s important for me in my journey to help my children, and as I nurture the relationships I have with their birth mothers. I will miss reading your blog. ~Elaine

  18. I hear you and understand the empowerment of this choice. There are times when I know I am not there for my sons because I am wrapped up in my adoption drama. You are insightful and lovely, and very brilliant.

    Anyone who calls this blog a “trainwreck” is blind and clueless. It’s brave and honest and full of truth.

    I am so glad I found you here, and I will miss you, but we can talk in other venues. Know that I am with you 100%, no matter what.


  19. Its been a while since I visited your blog. I was in some kind of adoption burnout. But I kept wondering about you and your reunion. Needless to say I was shocked and saddened by the fact that you went private. I will miss your blog because through you I was able to understand my first mother a little better. I read first mom blogs alot to try to make sense of my mom.
    Thank you so much for your blog, because it really did help me and many others out there.
    Gonna miss your writing!!

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