Wednesday’s Child (Aww how cute)

Meet our newest famed child sans family: Knut

Awww, you say, how adorable. Well in case you have not heard the controversy which stemmed from Berlin a few weeks back, Knut has caused quite a stir over here, gracing the cover of every newspaper. Like myself, Knut was abandoned at birth by his polar bear mom. Yup, that’s right, the poor little bastard was left to fend for himself in the wild (the Berliner Zoo). I guess living in the confines of a zoo f’d up Knut’s Polar B-Mom pretty bad. And after all those infertility treatments she just wanted nothing to do with it anymore.

Anyhow, the kicker is that animal rights activists have called for Knut to be euthanized. Since Knut has been quasi-adopted by humans, i.e. bottle fed, the claim is that this is truly unnatural and Knut will never adjust. (As if living in a zoo is natural). Sound familiar? Feel you relate, well then you must be adopted.

Fortunately for Knut, the little bastard is pretty darn cute, so he gets to live- albeit as an adoptee, that we can eww and aww at and watch him entertain us by doing cute baby polar bear things. Until, of course, Knut, grows up and gets angry, real angry and his polar bear genes kick in– to partially quote Mr. T “I pity the Fool” who then messes with Knut.

In Vino Veritas….

Friday evening I enjoyed a great dinner with a friend along with a great bottle of Shiraz. I tend to not imbibe- or at least I generally have a 2 drink max. because unfortunately I’m not a happy drunk. But the wine was quite fine, so I continued. It was on the train ride home that I emotionally (in my head) began to fall apart. I was overcome with this feeling of hopelessness, this what’s the point feeling? I never understood how one could drink to forget, unless of one consumes an entire bottle of something which leads to loss of consciousness. Personally, I have a couple drinks and am flooded with thoughts, the most poignant: how could you have abandoned me mom, I want my mom back, and the most recent addition how could you love my siblings and not me?

Are women aware of the power they have as mothers? Do they realize how important that bond is? If I look at the most screwed up friends of mine- (non-adoptees included)- the core of their problems lie in the fact that they were somehow ‘rejected’ by their mothers. (This does not excuse fathers either- absentee fathers also have screwed up many lives) As a adoptees we begin our lives with this wound, period. If we do not confront us, it will find us, or manifest itself in some form, depression, insecurities, the inability to bring anything to closure, fear of rejection, etc. The mother child bond is so simple, so natural, why do we try to screw it up? Why must we always think of factors which do not matter in the long run- image, age, money etc. to deny babies the basic right to be nurtured by their natural mothers?

I guess I’m just an existential thinker in the land of adoption– the one in which God chose me to be in (according to the U.S. adoption industry). Again the relationship between god and adoption makes no sense to me. Biblical References?? Oh yeah, the Jews were the God’s chosen people and uh as adoptees we are always told we are chosen, there’s the connection. Anyhow, why would God, or gods, or godesses, create a natural order only to choose to have us destroy it? Not so logical. If we justify destroying a simple natural bond, anything is possible. Hell, today everything is for sale: babies, organs. Next trip to China, get a baby and a kidney to boot- so what if it is from a dead political prisoner, just forget where it came from, use it as your own, save it from a life of living inside some political prisoner, you deserve it, God wants you to have it….

My last thought this evening: If we continue to mess with mother nature, she will kick all of our asses!

Somehow I have not had the energy to be a good little blogger this week and acknowledge comments. Honestly, I feel the energy has just been sucked out of me by the end of the day. Work consumes most of my time- I truly enjoy my work – its also has an emotionally numbing effect- in a good way. I’m trying to fight this consant depression related to my failed adoption reunion whilst balancing work and maintaining a healthy relationship. The emotional depression has started to manifest itself in true physical pain. In my case lower back pain. Sitting for longer periods of time is uncomfortable. I now know I need to find a time slot for yoga and sports, as I cannot put them off any longer. I’ve learned in yoga that this type of emotional stress is held in the lower back and hips, and amazingly I feel them becoming tighter and my back cramping up if I have no means to release the anger and depression.

On overachieverness and horse poop

I admit, I’m an overachiever perfectionist. I feel I could use a few pounds, work harder, have studied harder, go to the gym more, etc. (Clean my apartment is not on that list, unfortunately for my partner). Anyhow I’m behind on my blog. And while I do have more crazy adoption stuff to write about (another secret family member discovered, stay tuned to my next post), today I cannot bare to write about it. So on a related topic, I will write about horse shit. Yes, as adoptees we are figuratively fed loads of shit our entire life, but should I be forced to physically step in it? Switzerland, the land of chocolate, and watches, and beautiful mountains, is literally full of shit (of the cow and horse variety). If you role down your car windows in summer driving through the country side, you can get a good wiff of some manure… Last summer I was hiking in the beautiful region of Heidiland where I literally slipped on a hidden pile of cow poop, landed on my ass, and was covered in it. Ive since determined I’m a city person.
Anyhow, I live in a boring Swiss suburb (complete with farms and farm animals), and today is bright, sunny, and abnormally warm. People ride horses openly here, because you can do that. It really irks me however, that you are obliged to clean up dog poop from the pavement, but horse poop (which is a higher quantity and density) can sit and fester. And there is this one particular horse– we shall call him Mr. Ed — who justs poops all around the neighborhood. So I’m walking back from the bus (yes we use public transport here), listening to some ipod tunes, and I just missed another pile of Mr. Ed’s droppings by a centimeter. So please, if you are in Switzerland, and you ride a horse, and you read this blog: Clean up your shit!

Thanks, Bijou