“Adoption searches—make no small plans, they have no magic to stir your blood”

Judith Land | Adoption Detective

“Nothing great has ever been achieved by making small plans. Small plans have no magic to stir your blood. Aiming high in hope is the more exciting and noble course that rouses passions in our heart and emboldens us to follow our dreams.” —Judith Land

I happily pursued the identity of my biological mother because I had naïvely expected her to be gracious and forgiving and spontaneously welcome me to her bosom unconditionally, but my vision of a happy serendipitous reunion collapsed in a veil-of-tears. She coldheartedly rejected my pleas for clemency and mercy. She pleaded with me to keep my identity secret from her friends and family and threatened to sue me if I contacted her again. I felt like a wilted flower but I steadfastly refused to be dissuaded. I was unrepentant. Our disheartening conversation inspired me to think long and hard about my mission and all of its ramifications; whether I should accept or reject the fate of being unceremoniously condemned to remain unheralded and anonymous forever? I decided to compose my thoughts in a letter and share them with Rebecca as a last plea for empathy, friendship, and open communication hoping to convince her that my course of action was honorable and appropriate. I focused intently on the computer screen and words from the heart miraculously appeared. (See the actual letter below.)

Dear Rebecca, My faith motivates and sustains me. Inspired by my religious and spiritual nature, my inner confidence, happiness, and buoyant outlook on life have joyously peaked at an all-time high. Deep in my heart, I feel I comprehend you, and, even though we have never met, I sense a meaningful spiritual link and psychological connection with you. We are of the same flesh and blood, and, inevitably, we must telepathically think alike in some unknown mysterious ways. When I meditate, I perceive the existence of an inner eye that reads your thoughts and emotions, even from great distances. The imperceptible primordial spiritual link we share as mother and daughter binds us and amplifies my desire to find you. Like a lighthouse on a dark and stormy night, your essence is constantly transmitting a message of hope that illuminates my path. The mysterious vitality that is compelling me to take action is powerful and gaining strength, and my instincts will not let me rest. No words can describe the enigmatic, mystifying, passionate psychological potency that motivates me. Its dominance is overwhelmingly spiritually based and all encompassing. Perhaps my sixth sense was amplified to overcompensate for the lack of a physical connection and sound of your voice by projecting and receiving mental signals from afar to replace what I was lacking in direct tactile contact. Maybe some biological and psychological bonding took place in the womb before I was born, and the bonding process imprinted our souls with a marker that is a survival mechanism. For nine months, we shared the same foods. I heard you talking, and the tone and rhythm of your speech was recorded in my small, developing brain. I knew when you were awake and when you were hungry, happy, and tense. We shared everything. I was an extension of you and part of you. I was life longing for itself. When I was a child, I saw myself as a clone of you in some obscure but meaningful way. As the years passed, the frequency and strength of my thoughts about you increased. A realistic sense of mortality and vulnerability that is naturally acquired with age and experience kindled a new appreciation for the shortness of life and made me aware there are limited windows of opportunity in life when a person needs to take action or forever regret her decision and lose the opportunity to accomplish her goals. I have compassion for all mothers separated from their babies at birth that must endure countless anxious days and nights of tormented suffering. These traumatic tribulations haunt the afflicted, especially unwanted children selflessly orphaned, abandoned, and clueless. Separation from the birth mother is the confiscation of the child’s soul, a mutual occurrence that rips apart and exposes the heart of the child. Orphans amputated from their mother’s breast hide their wounds in the darkest subconscious corners of their primal brains, where they remain hidden, but never healed. As mother and daughter, we have equally suffered from the same cerebral wounds, numbness, and sentiments of penitence. Enduring these injuries and suffering in silence is what we habitually have in common. Ultimately, the crushing emotional pain is so formidable that it can only be shared with God. Love, Judith

Judith Land

 

http://www.adoptiondetectivejudithland.com

 

About Judith Land

Judith Land lives in Colorado and Arizona with husband and coauthor Martin Land. Judith is a former nurse, retail shop owner, college instructor and avid outdoor person. Her book "Adoption Detective: Memoir of an Adopted Child" is a true story detailing the journey of Judith Romano, foster child and adoptee, as she discovers fragments of her background, and then sets out to solve the mystery as an adult. "Mothers and fathers everywhere in the world need to understand children are forever and always." --Judith Land
This entry was posted in Adoption, Life, Parenting, Relationships and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to “Adoption searches—make no small plans, they have no magic to stir your blood”

  1. eagoodlife says:

    In all honesty I could imagine this being perceived as a rather overpowering letter for someone who was in the place Rebecca seemed to be.

    • Judith Land says:

      Eagoodlife: You have a valid point. Lacking any experience in these matters, I plunged straight ahead primarily thinking only about myself. Suddenly emerging from the past like a mirage in the desert, I scared her half to death. My assumption that my birth mother would voluntarily provide a stranger with a reasonable explanation of the circumstances surrounding my birth over the telephone without an advance warning was unrealistic. The letters I wrote to my birth mother as a follow-up were highly therapeutic for my own benefit but not necessarily the best way to approach a stranger. We eventually met under positive circumstances and have remained close friends ever since. I decided to share this letter with others because it describes how I felt at the time with the idea that other adoptees in a similar situation can learn from my experiences, as well as your wisdom. Thanks for sharing your thoughts. Judith

    • Judith Land says:

      Eagoodlife: I agree with you. I actually wrote three letters to my birth mother to help her understand the intent of my desire for a reunion and tell her a few things about me to ease her fears. I enclosed all three letters in a single bundle. The first letter was from the heart. It was about my desire for reunification, honor and forgiveness, spirituality, and the mutual need for inner peace. The second letter was a secular description of my career, living conditions, hobbies and activities, business, family and ambitions. My passions intensified in the third letter (above) and seemed to bubble over the top like a boiling pot of water. Taking the time to honestly disclose my deepest obscure feelings, ephemeral abstract emotions, and private intimate beliefs and record them in writing was an all-consuming, exhausting, time-consuming affair that served as therapy for me. Thanks for your feedback. Judith

  2. Judith Land says:

    Kristi Blazi Lado “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone nail *so perfectly* why we feel such a strong pull to know our biological mother/family.”

    Dear Kristi: I appreciate your kind words. We got off to a rocky start but the letters I sent my birth mother eventually softened her heart. We had our conciliation in the back of a church. I was like a sponge soaking up her truthfulness, that filled the empty voids in my heart with gladness. I listened carefully to every word she had to say and reserved them in my heart. The positive connection we felt after so many years of grave emptiness is too complex for words. Inspired by stories of the blind and crippled who, by accepting a spiritual faith in Christ, were able to lay down their crutches and be healed, we raised our eyes to heaven and thanked God for the opportunity to coexist in harmony for the rest of our lives. The shackles of secrecy and chains of guilt were miraculously lifted from my mother’s shoulders and the primal wounds I had suffered since the dawn of life were magically healed. My highest ambition in life had been fulfilled and the direction of my life’s trajectory scripted for a glorious ending. Judith

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s