On December 31st I am 39 years old.
I have been reading over past birthday posts on the blog. As it happens, there seem to be about 3 where I just wrote, hey tomorrow is my birthday, woo. I have things to say about the day I was born, yes, my birthday. I haven’t really gone much into what it means or doesn’t mean to me and how it makes me feel.
Almost immediately after Christmas I get kind of inky. Sort of blue, sort of irritable. I am sure some of it must be holiday let down. There is all that build up, which we didn’t really do with Charlotte. We didn’t do much to perpetuate the whole Santa myth (note to anyone under 13 – THERE IS A SANTA, I AM KIDDING HERE). Anyhow, it meant that Charlotte wasn’t as thrilled as I remember being Christmas morning. This may be partially the Santa thing and partially we just didn’t build it up. We opened up presents from my brother and his family and my parent’s on Christmas eve. It works better than Christmas Day because my brother takes in wayward Rugby players for Christmas dinner making it less family-ish, which is OK, but not presenty openy timez. Anyhow, post holiday blue so soon? I have no idea really.
After Christmas starts the 6 day journey towards the day I was born. A day I know very little about. I know my birth mother delivered me, she stayed in the hospital for nearly a week and they let her keep and see me everyday. This seems like the cruelest. I cannot imagine holding Charlotte, or any baby for a week and then “giving them away”. It breaks my heart every time I think of my Biological mom being able to hold me lots and lots and then signing papers and leaving me in the arms of whomever. After I was taken from here I was in some sort of foster care until my parent’s were free to pick me up from the local Social Services dispatch at a local mall. The mall thing makes me laugh every time. I always joke that I must have been a blue light special. So, born December 31st, 8AM-ish, kept at the hospital for a week, then I was with I HAVE NO idea until February 16th when I was picked up at the mall. What happened during that time? I know I was bottle fed and probably snuggled and oggled over, I WAS cute, but it is a weird blank slate on a realistically unimportant portion of my long life. Lots of people are adopted and surely don’t sweat such small stuff. I am really trying to only speak for myself. I am putting in an apology here because this is my story and feelings and I do not want to imprint or make them any other adopted person’s story.
I have a relationship with my Biological mom. We met when I was 26. She doesn’t live in my city and we work at our relationship. Blood is not thicker than water and believe that applies to most if not every family. We work on who expects what. I know initially pursuing a relationship with me was a more healing and important journey to BioMom(tm) than for myself. When I went to the city where she lived I wasn’t just seeing her home, but her sister, mother, cousins, friends, etc etc. Never really saw that coming. People sent me flowers. There was a party in my honour. It was lovely and odd at the same time. All these people thinking about me, albeit BABY me for all those years and then HERE I am! 26 years old and newly engaged to be married. Adopted by the awesomest parents EVER and not deprived, but indeed blessed to have the parents I have now.
I believe giving me up broke my BioMom’s heart and it will never completely heal. I am not saying this because she missed out on raising someone so awesome, but I think the uncertainty of the decision, which I think she always had twinges of and still does, still pulls at her. She talks about seeing kids my age and wondering it if was me, no matter how small of a chance that might me. It hurts me that my mere existence caused her such pain over such a long time of her life. I have no maternal siblings. I have cousins who look a lot like me, but we don’t have much of a relationship as BioMom does not get along with her sister.
So, growing up I always felt crabby around my birthday. People were busy or away for the holidays. Parties seemed rushed or put together at the last minute. My best party was my 30th surprise party which SURPRISED me. I remember asking Mark if I should put on make-up or change out of my loungey pants to go visit my parents and he said no. Thanks my love, I look awesome in those photos. I love you for keeping the secret though. My mom made everyone write down something they loved about me and put it in a little book which I treasure and cherish somewhere in a lovely box in a box still from when we moved. See? Awesome parents.
Perhaps even as I kid I felt those week and days before the mall pickup to be an existence of limbo. Where was I? Who was I with? I know I had a name, “Terra Anne”. At least I wasn’t called ‘that baby’. I hope. I also can’t shake that whole “given up” thing. It was the BEST THING. I love my BioMom but the universe placed me in the best possible parenting situation. Not perfect, I mean my dad is a new age homeopathic organic lovin’ nut bar with a Masters in Urban Affairs and my mom in a teeny, craft, smart, well read, perfect homemaker who doesn’t know who Ben Affleck is. Also, my brother and I had a very imperfect relationship, which has become affable since he got married very young.
I know these statements not to be true in fact, but they are feelings. If I was perfect, PERFECT would I have been kept by my mom regardless of the unfortunate timing and imperfect circumstances of my conception? Was I conceived out of sin, and must I then suffer that? (I am Catholic, lapsed, but none the less) If I was better, prettier, SOMETHING, would nothing have kept my BioMom from taking me with her? I KNOW it was the ideal and best choice for ME, she was putting ME first, but those feelings, they linger, even after meeting her and knowing all that I now know. Irrational rejection. Silly, really.
The other part of my adoption, a more recent part that bothers me sometimes more than others is my paternal contribution. I know his name, I know where he lives, BioMom told him about me, but never heard anything. We both send him a letter in December 2004. I will copy it here making this a long-ass entry, but I will also spare you the linky back and forth.

Dear biodad,
BioMom and I both agreed that we would make contact with you. You will know from BioMom’s letter that we found each other in 1995 and it has been a great experience.
I am writing to let you know that I am open to contact with you, but I will understand if you are not interested.
I will tell you a little bit about myself and there will be pictures in this packet.
I am 34, born on December 31st, 1969. I have been married to Mark for more than 7 years and we now have a 10 month old baby girl named Charlotte. Mark has a PhD in Computing Science and works for a computer company here in Edmonton. I received a Bachelor of Arts in Communication Studies in 1992 from the University of Windsor. I did half of my degree at the University of Alberta. I worked in the same clothing store for five years during high school and university and worked some form of retail job until I got on full time at the university in 1995. I love clothes, and fashion and almost completed my education in clothing and textiles. I understand you have also worked in the retail sector and though you might find this interesting.
I moved back to Edmonton after graduating and had some odd jobs, but I have worked for the University of Alberta since 1995. Right now I am on Maternity leave. My current position is as a Web and Marketing Coordinator.
The two people who adopted me are the best parents anyone could ever ask for. My mom stayed home with my brother and I until I was 16. My dad worked in city planning for many years. He has a Masters Degree in Urban Planning. Our family also spent time on a hobby farm north of Edmonton. The 160 acre property was bought in 1975 and we enjoyed horses, making hay, and other things that city kids never do. My parents still live in the house I was raised in, nine blocks from Mark and me. I could not have been luckier to be placed with such a family.
I love to read, I watch too much tv, and right now I spend most of my time caring for Charlotte. Life is good. I am looking forward to Christmas. Mark and I are going to visit his parents in Stoney Creek, near Hamilton the week before Christmas. It will be a full holiday season.
I hope you and your family are doing well. You can contact me at anytime.
signed Me, blah blah
jenB on December 07, 2004

No response although I was told he most certainly received it. It certainly doesn’t make him look any better to me. I know he has two children who I believe are girls. Like Catherine of HerBadMother, I am wondering about finding these siblings. Trying harder to find them, or HIM, when he clearly does not want to find me. Private Investigator? I am registered here in the Post Adoption Registry, but that does not help anyone who does not even know they may have adopted siblings. I have not tried hard enough and partially because I do not know it I want to. Although I would want them to find me if they wanted to. Fuck.
So part of me wants to skip my Birthday, this day I was born, December 31st, 1969. Part of me likes that it is a celebration for the people who love me. And yeah, I accept gifts and cake.
But tomorrow I turn 39 and I have a bee in my bonnet. I don’t know what to do about this, if anything anymore. Get over it and move on? Suck it up and stop trying to find things to be neurotic about? Mountain=molehill?
My father in his new agey wisdom believes that whatever pain my BioMom suffered while gestating may be some thing I carry and deal with. He doesn’t necessarily mean this as a penance but as an explanation for my anxiety and depression over the years. I blame chemicals, genes, environment and high school, and not just those freaking High School Musical movies. Which enrage me.
Blargh, so there it is. The day I was born, which I sometimes just want to sleep through, be alone for or buy a lot of shrimp, cocktail sauce, and porn and just celebrate New Year’s Eve as god intended.

February 1970. Mall pickup.

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It is one year to the day that I had my weight loss surgery. I finally weighed myself yesterday for the first time since i saw the knee surgeon in March. Partially because I have been scared shitless that I had not lost any weight, which is stupid since I am wearing smaller sized clothed, and partially I was afraid of getting obsessed with the numbers. I had to have a drivers medical yesterday because I am a SCARY diabetic and you have to give your weight to renew your license. I have lost almost 50 pounds in a year. I was hoping to reach my PERFECT target of about 85 pounds. I know the doctors say that regardless of the surgery I still have my metabolic issues to contend with – insulin resistance, diabetes, always recovering eating disorder, stupidness, laziness, psychiatric medication fatigue. I say EXCUSES. I should, could have been more vigilant. Eat less, work out more, nap less. LESS, MORE, LESS, BETTER! I never commit fully to almost anything. Eleven years of marriage is the longest I have done anything but breathe everyday. It is not as thought I al lacking the knowledge on how to do this perfectly. Teeny stomach or not, you can high calorie graze yourself into less weight loss. I do it, not all the time, but I do it. Not even high calorie but crackers and cheese over several hours are still calories. I know better. I always know better. I am still doing strength training and pilates (which I LOVE). I feel stronger, and leaner-ish. The dislocated knee stimied things for a bit, I still say EXCUSE! So here I am, far from my goal, which isn’t 130 pounds, it is a realistic goal that my doctor and I decided upon. More of a range that a specific number. I don’t feel ok to tell you how much I weigh now, but I will tell you that I would have been in a size 20 jean at The Gap (if they made them that size) and I am now in a size 14 jean.
It has been a great year in so many ways. Travel, J&J Baby Camp, BlogHer, the Olympics!, twitter, online friends, in city friends, new house, new car, blah-dee-blah blah. I am fortunate as fuck and do not take that for granted. My kid is hilarious and mostly wonderful and NO LONGER SHITS HER PANTS! I have spent time with HelenJane, Lisa Stone, Isabel from AlphaMom, Schmutzie, just to name a few highlights. So many awesome ladies. BABIES! WeCovet! I know I wont mention all the awesome lady time I have had this year, but it has been great. I need to update my links to say I read all your motherfuckers and it is nearly a full time job to love my online peeps.
Anyhow. That is how things are today. Tomorrow is Mark’s company Christmas party where I try and cram my feet into some kick ass pointy shoes. I am still icing my broken toe that my kid stepped on this morning! God love her. There is tons of snow here, so she gets a pass.
I am thankful for this year. Goodness, challenged, The Daily Show, Gossip Girl, the STAR magazine, my wicked awesome, gentle, ever present, generous to a fault husband and everything else the universe has provided me. I am a faulty human being, but a lucky son of a bitch.
Much love to you all,
jenB
p.s I turn 39 on December 31st
p.p.s I will still be posting, but this post just sort of barfed out. I take what I can get out of this hamster wheel addled brain.

The Funeral today was difficult. My 12 year old niece clung to me as her parents accepted condolences and talked to family and friends at the service and tea afterward. My sister-in-law’s Mother was stricken. She has suffered intense anxiety for the last several years, often ending up in the Emergency Room, terrified and scared. I understand anxiety. I told her at the tea that she was strong, that we were two of a kind in our struggle with anxiety, that SHE WAS STRONG and could get through this. My sister-in-law has supported her parents and brother in all manners of support almost her whole life. She IS and has always been amazingly strong and solid and unyielding, no matter what has come her way i the 20 plus years her father had Parkinson’s Disease. She was the family centre that they all gathered around to get back. I admire her, I could never do what she has done. She is left with more family struggle still and a financial burden to shoulder.
My dad gave the eulogy although he, well none of my family really, knew my sister-in-law’s dad before he was diagnosed. My dad, being the guy of many talents did a wonderful job. I was thankful my dad was around to give this tribute, that he is losing his hearing and his cholesterol is a little high, but he has beautiful silver hair and still comes over to help me hang pictures and put up new eaves troughs. I was taller than both my parents today, partially because of my footwear choice, partially because I am adopted and partially because they are getting a little shorter as they age. I was able to put my arm and hand on dad’s shoulder throughout the day and still feel it strong through his stylish wool suit. It is because of him I love clothing and fashion, yet he frequently buys me tools so I can be independent. When I got my first car, I got a toolbox filled with the basics to boost my battery or change a spark plug. I feel fortunate to have my dad, living 7 or so blocks away through coincidence and house preference. He is a great Grandpa, and is very adept at tying Charlotte into a pretzel. He made me eat tofu at 10, paint the fence at 11 and miter baseboards at 12. He is a good dad and I am glad he is here.

Summer 2004, at the farm

Angela of the comment :

“Like Charlotte, I need extra space for things like my little ponies and artwork, so I am digging the Deluxe Lunch Sack.
I’m into the Sherpa Fleece Pullover because I live in the frozen tundra also known as Ohio. As the self-proclaimed “Human Oven”, I don’t wear a proper winter coat, but something that is not bulky but will still keep me warm in zero degree weather is just what this kitchen appliance needs.”

Won the lunch sack! *applause*
* * * * * * *
Amanda, who commented:

“Ooh, free stuff! Love. It.
I like the first sherpa fleece pullover. I live in Michigan and thats the type of thing I wear all winter. They are the best.
And I like the first classmate lunch box. It would be great for my husband to take to work every day if there were any manly type colors. Otherwise he could deal with pink, or keep taking his lunch in a plastic grocery sack:)”

Won the sherpa fleece! *yay*
Both of you should email me with your details, colour, address, size, astrological sign, etc. jennifer@jennui.com

I will announce the Lands’ End winners later on Monday (or today, depending on when you read this).
I have to attend the funeral of my sister-in law’s Father who died last week after a 21+ year battle with Parkinson’s. He was diagnosed shortly before my their wedding. It is a horrible degenerative disease to die from and leaves one with no little dignity and no way to communicate with your loved ones in the advanced stages. I am very sorrowful for my sister-in-law and family. He is no longer suffering, which is a relief for them, but death sucks anyway you cut it. Makes you think of all sorts of mortality issues that tax the heart, not to mention the actual grief.
Back very soon.
jen

I have to give kudos to Lands’ End for providing a lot of us with the opportunity to give away some lovely things in the last little while. Currently, I am giving away to you, loyal or fair weather (I am not picky) jennui.com readers a lovely lunch bag and the choice of choice of a cozy fleece pullover so you can be warm and stylish when it is cold and, well, cold.
The two fleece pull overs are thus and both come in a zillion, ok maybe 20 colours. I love their fleece I have the Thermacheck jacket in “Fresh Melon” to make the cold seem more like pretend summer. They are also available in plus sizes.
Pullover Number one:
Sherpa Fleece Pullover. Lands’ End says!

* Our thickest fleece
* Feminine fit
* Cotton/jersey lined for comfort
* Half-zip style looks great and helps regulate body temperature
* TEMPERATURE RATING: 0°/10° Fahrenheit. Over layering pieces, this Sherpa Fleece Half-zip will keep you warm in 0° weather; over a light layer, in 10° weather.
Pullover Number Two:
Women’s Regular ThermaCheck® 100 Fleece Half-zip Pullover
Again, Lands’ End says!:
Our exclusive ThermaCheck 100 Half-zip: the world’s only permanent antistatic fleece!
* Exclusive antistatic treatment resists static cling, static shock, lint and pet hair
* Permanent antistatic finish never washes out
* Famous ThermaCheck softness is still here
* Lightweight ThermaCheck 100 Half-zip is ideal for layering and cool-weather exercising
* Buy 3 or more Women’s and/or Men’s ThermaCheck 100 Half-zip Pullovers, save $3 each!
Lastly, the lunch bags, we have to at the house of jennui.
We have the Classmate lunch box.
Seamless, PVC-free CleanSweep interior is easy to clean, rigid bottom and sides so food won’t get crushed, interior is leak resistant, front pocket holds extras like snacks or milk money, reflective accents improve visibility, interior ID tag lets you write in their name and they come in lots of cute colours and we had Charlotte’s monogrammed!
We also have the Deluxe Lunch Sack.
We have been using this one more since Charlotte has more things to take to and fro school, you know, little ponies, art work, an extra juice box. There are more pockets, and places to put things, but is is just as easy to clean and has more space. It has all the good things the Classmate Lunch Sack does, and more!

All you have to do is comment to win. Tell me which lunch sack you like, there are more on the site to choose from, but they must be a LUNCH sack and not a back pack. Also, let me know which fleece pullover you like and what climate you live in, because I am nosy that way. I wear my fleece a lot as a layer underneath something else, or on its own when it isn’t bitterly cold and snowy.
I will make the draw on Monday, December 8th, whenever I wake up. Comment Sunday night at the latest, just in case.