week 3 - beginning 22nd December 2000

friday
Saw Alison tonight. My colourful friend, she has visions and teaches people to contact their magical child. She’s got two adopted children. She’s estranged from her son and finding things with her daughter, Rachel, painful. Rachel sits on the sofa all day eating. Recently she’s been told why she was put up for adoption in the first place. She was battered by her birth parents, hospitalised 3 times before she was 6 months old. Imagine hearing that after all those years. No wonder she’s having trouble getting off the sofa.

Alison said ‘She used to be bright as a button when she was a girl, I don’t understand what happened? I feel like my daughter has been stolen from me.’ I think I understand. If we’re lucky something protects us when we’re young. But eventually it hits us. Surfaces from the depths of our being. UNWANTED. The feelings seep into our consciousness. Usually there’s no thoughts to go with them, uncomprehending we feel terrible about ourselves with no idea why. The ideas come with healing. If we’re lucky enough or determined enough to find it. It haunts me that she said ‘I feel like my daughter has been stolen from me.’ Is this how our mothers felt? Those that were forced to give us up. Are we the stolen children? I try it out. ‘I was stolen from my mother when I was 6 weeks old’. Actually they stole her from me.

saturday
I’m not celebrating Christmas this year. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t. Does that have anything to do with being adopted? Of course not, more like to do with I’m not a Christian, and all those rigid family Christmases of my childhood. My stepmother hating every moment, burning the dinner and Dad not letting us see any of our friends. Even as a young child Christmas made me feel empty. I was always disappointed in my presents and thought I must be a bad person for being so ungrateful. Only now do I realise that perhaps I was hoping for something else.

The day after Christmas used to be better we’d get together with my grandparents and cousins and do a pantomime. I always had the starring role. I thought it was because of my stage presence but years later when I asked my Gran how come she said I was the only one who would learn my line. A dream dashed!

I’ll celebrate New Year instead. I like beginnings.

sunday
Simon, an old housemate from 3 years ago, wanted to know if I was coming to dinner tomorrow. (Apparently he asked me a couple of weeks ago and I’d forgotten) I was just saying I had too much work to do and was going to celebrate New Year instead when he said he was cooking a 5 course meal, roast duck I capitulated. It was the duck that did it. I’ve never had duck before. So much for not celebrating! Simon’s Scottish, a big man who grew up with a lot of street violence, his parents are Jehovah’s witnesses, in my opinion he doesn’t eat very well, lots of frozen pre-made meals and very little in the way of fresh vegetables, yet when the mood takes him he is also an extraordinary cordon bleu chef.

Wonder what my birth family does at Christmas. Realise that it’s the first time I’ve wondered about what they do rather than simply whether they exist or not. I stop breathing. 

monday
Una, my housemate, is crying this morning about Christmas and families. She still hasn’t decided what to do for the day yet; she’s not in the mood for celebrating yet doesn’t want to be on her own. Her Mum used to threaten her with the orphanage. It was just down the road from their house, next to the mental hospital where her Gran used to work. She passed it on the way to school everyday. The worst times were when her mum picked up the phone and pretended to ring them.

Ken, that’s my older brother, rang to wish me a happy Christmas. I hate it when people say those words ‘Happy Christmas’. Managed to say it back to him without sounding like I was chewing a mouthful of nails. Told him I was searching for my birth mum and we had a long chat about how far I’d got. I told him I thought I might have been delaying searching because unconsciously I was afraid of being rejected again. His said we weren’t rejected in the first place! That our young mothers would never have wanted to give us away. They had no choice. I can believe that my mother didn’t want to leave me (if I close my eyes tight) but that she didn’t reject me is a new one on me. I will have to think about this! He also said I had a lot more to gain than I had to loose. Very practical my brother. I could feel that he cares about the fact of me finding my family. 

He ended by saying I am to ring whenever I want. We’re never normally in touch! Adoption was taboo in our family and although there were three of us that were adopted we didn’t talk to each other about it. In fact half the family was adopted and still we didn’t talk about it. And then if you count my parents who adopted us and my younger sister who wanted to be adopted because she felt the odd one out then its obvious the whole family was deeply affected. And we lived under the same roof for years and years. I don’t remember me and my older brother talking about anything at all. How could we?

Then I rang Dad - actually told him about adoptedlife.com! We were talking about how my younger brother Jamie gets really depressed around Christmas. He was implying my brother was selfish not to be able to think about others at this time. So told him that I’d found out that its common for adopted people to have a hard time at Christmas. He said ‘don’t be ridiculous’ then relented slightly saying well if it was true it was only because they dwelt on it! (Is this what he means by selfish?). When I said that sometimes people aren’t aware of any thoughts they just feel low he said that was rubbish. Anyway he said ‘You can’t cry over spilt milk’. I said that perhaps if Jamie cried he wouldn’t get so depressed. He didn’t argue with that. A miracle! But the most exciting thing was at the end when he said ‘make sure you have a good time’. Now that might not sound such a big deal to you but it was his voice. He sounded compassionate. I realised that even though he couldn’t admit that Christmas could be potentially very hard for adoptees without it somehow being their fault, he had actually taken in what I’d said and didn’t want me to have a hard time. Wonder what he would have said that if he knew that not only am I dwelling on adoption I’m actually keeping a diary about it!! 

The rest of Christmas was good. Wrote more of my diary and then went to my friends in Frome. Noticed that I enjoyed the feeling of being wanted. I had somewhere to go. If someone who doesn’t celebrate Christmas can feel like that no wonder it can be such a hard time for people. No wonder it’s hard for adoptees. The duck was delicious. Watched Titanic and played scrabble which I normally hate but it was okay because we had to make up the words which you only got points for if you had a convincing definition, (I recommend it to scrabble haters everywhere it’s great fun). Sally, Simon's sister-in-law got really pissed which apparently she does a lot – her husband wants to leave her but doesn’t because of the children who are completely gorgeous. I left feeling sad. I’d never met her before so she was sweet to me in that over the top way drunks are and horrible to everyone else. She wanted to take me home with her because I was so lovely. I declined.

tuesday
Got the following email from Christopher. Are adoptees sending emails like this all over the world today?

Dear Emma,
Yesterday's Christmas didn’t turn out how I had hoped. I am damned
disappointed. I thought about you yesterday and how we might have been able to talk over the phone. I wonder what you do for Christmas? Do you see your Mom? Your Dad? Do you stay alone? Do you get presents for relatives and/or/nor for friends? Do you hang out with friends? I don’t know how to handle this event. I tried to do it the traditional way with families and it didn’t
work out. I don’t want to try to type all the things that didn’t work out. I wonder if there is a different way to handle this time-period called Christmas?
Sincerely,
Christopher

wednesday
Woke up realising that Jesus must have been adopted. The Immaculate Conception was just a cover up. Feel a connection with Jesus for the first time ever. 

thursday
It must be easier to find people with unusual names. I remembered that my grandfather’s name was on my parent’s marriage certificate. ‘Someone Salter’ can’t be too many of those about. I looked and it is Arnold W. Salter. Sent an email to Mark.

Dear Mark, 
Thank you very much for your email with the electoral role information.
I thought my grandfather might be a good starting point as he is Arnold William Salter and there can’t be too many A. W. Salters listed, is it possible for you to have a look on the electoral role for me? He might well be dead by now but if he isn’t it’s quite likely that he would still live in East Sussex. It feels daunting but I guess searching involves going up every possible avenue available! I really appreciate your help. 
All the best for the New Year, 
Emma