The brain does not like keeping secrets. There is a neurological reason to why people gossip, confide in a mentor or a pastor, or write down their deepest darkest secrets in a journal. Getting a secret out of the jail in your brain decreases the stress hormone, which is heightened when a secret is kept inside. This stress hormone can cause symptoms such as  weight gain, digestive problems, headaches, back pain and high blood pressure. The brain is an amazing organ, all of the neurons firing like a massive electrical storm, powering our body to act, think and produce. However when working to keep a secret, the neurons electric map changes, and suddenly the brain isn’t quite as effective, thus causing sleepless nights, anger, anxiety, unhealthy choices and poor motivation.

These weightless thoughts that no one else can see, touch, smell or hear, is the source of much of the unhappiness in the World. It can be quite powerful to know that you can hold something that doesn’t weigh anything, but that you can feel like you have all of the power in the world. Maybe holding secrets feels like you’re spiking the chemicals in your brain with alcohol. Keeping secrets does tend to give people a bit of a buzz. Just as alcohol can kill, so can secrets. We spend so much time trying to fix the symptoms of blood pressure, anxiousness, restless sleep etc, with medicine, when I believe it can start with ridding your brain of the secret that’s not allowing the brain to function properly.

Now’s the time to clear the mind of the secrets that are altering the way the brain naturally wants to work. Free your mind, and free a whole lot of others while you’re at it.

Caveat: This post is written to no one specific. It’s simply a neurological reminder that secrets have adverse effects. Though, admittedly not all secrets are bad. The correlation between physical sickness, ilness and general anxiety and secrets seems to go hand in hand. Someday perhaps I will conduct a research investigation on this to back up my posts.

Book 1: Room by Emma Donoghue

I first learned about this book by a recommendation from a friend – who happens to also be an author and an avid reader (Shameless plug: Her name is Marissa Burt, her book, Storybound is debuting in April. Pick it up!)

The basic premise of the book Room is this:

A 5 year old boy, Jack, and his mother, Ma are kept hostage in a tiny 11 x 11 foot Room. They are not allowed to leave the room, so Ma decides that it’s in her sons best interest to help Jack explore the World, though confined to this tiny room. The book is written through Jack’s eyes, so we as the reader only know what Jack knows. Jack knows that exercise is important, he gets his daily exercise by running around a “track,” which is really just running around the rug. I won’t spoil the book by telling too much. But, it’s remarkable to imagine Ma, as a woman who knows how dire her circumstances are, and to know that she chose to create a positive world for her son Jack.

Many speculate (and I would agree) that this book resembles very closely the awful case of Josef Fritzl in Austria. The book is tough to read at times, but brilliant in forcing the reader to put themselves in her shoes. The amazing amount of sacrifice that Ma exuded, all for the sake of her son, Jack was really beautiful, though painful and though it was out of necessity to escape a horrible situation. I couldn’t help but think about my own mom, who sacrificed so much in order to raise 8 children. I couldn’t help but think about all of the other mothers I know, who sacrifice practically everything for their children’s sake. It’s beautiful. In a world where we are growing increasingly more and more self-centered, thanks to the barrage of up to the second useless information that we seek, it’s so very refreshing to read about Ma, who simply wants her son Jack to have the World – even if the World is literally just a tiny Room.

Next book: The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot

Well, the answer is, for some birth parents it’s a lot like experiencing a tragic death, similar to a stillborn child.

I strive to educate people about the fact that whenever there is an omission of the facts, or we simply do not know the truth (about birthparent’s reasoning for choosing adoption, or why a baby died minutes before delivering etc.), we tend to make things up to fill the huge void where there are so many unanswered questions (oftentimes, things like; I’m unworthy, the baby was unwanted or defective, or I’m a throwaway etc.).

Sometimes adoptive families feel as though life would be easier if they didn’t know their biological parents, and that knowing an birth parent may aid in confusion in knowing who the “real” parent is. The truth is, the “real” parent is the one who actively parents, the person who takes care of the child, financially, physically, emotionally etc., however the birth parent is a huge piece of the child’s identity and the child’s life. There is simply never an advantage to maintaining secrecy for the adoptive parents’ own satisfaction and ease or for any other reason.

Truth and openness always wins out. I have yet to hear of a scenario where knowing the truth was a hindrance or a misfortune.

I have known families to go through the awful pain and heartache of miscarriages, but never have I seen so closely the pain and anguish of having a stillborn child. This weekend I attended a funeral that devasted my heart, and completely restructured my thinking about life. The  funeral was for a stillborn baby, and not only the death of the baby, but the loss that the parents are experiencing.  The death of a baby is a profound loss. Attachment to a baby begins before conception, some parents read to their child, sing to their child, feel the child and fantasize about life with this child.  Not only have they lost a baby, but they’ve also lost the chance to see this child grow to become a living part of their family.

I can’t help but let my mind wander towards adoption, and I have drawn comparisons between a stillbirth, and a closed adoption. In both scenarios birth parents go through excruciating pain in childbirth, and then are literally  never able to see the fruit of their labor. It’s a tragic loss that deserves explanation, but in the case of a stillbirth sometimes there is never an explanation. People may never know why a death happened. In the days of old, when closed adoptions were the norm, this was a tragic loss of ever getting to know the life that you created and birthed.

To all, who hope to adopt someday please know that nothing the birth mother did or didn’t do while pregnant with your child is directly related to their unique qualities, whether that’s in the form of a disability or a superb ability. Whether it’s Cerebral Palsy or super star athlete. We don’t get to choose. And some people don’t get to choose why they bear a child dead on arrival, or why merciless adoption caseworkers demanded secrecy surrounding the child that you birthed.

And, to all of those who hope to bear children biologically, we must know that nothing is ever a given. Every life (both in utero and out) is precious, and a miracle.

I have a birth sister who was adopted one year before I was born. I have been searching for her for years (with the help of my husband and my mom), but without knowing her name, or having any idea of where she may be living now, it’s kinda tough to search. I have had letters written to what was thought to be her adoptive parents’ home via a caseworker, but none of these letters have ever had a response…not sure if that means the letters didn’t arrive at the right place, or they don’t want to connect with me, or possibly my birth sister doesn’t know she’s adopted, and her adoptive parents don’t want her to find out. Who knows!

Well, I’m hopefully about to find out.

A caseworker that I’ve been working with has agreed to pull her file (to obtain her full name), and begin to conduct searches on the internet i.e. Facebook, Spokeo, Intellius etc. She should get back to me within the week.

Finding my birth sister is the final piece to this massive puzzle of finding my roots. My birth mother has also expressed this wish to connect with her birth daughter, as well as my other birth sister (Carolyn).

Here’s to hoping that our final wish comes true.

Deborah got dressed up for the Bethany fundraiser auction.

We ate breakfast, posed with the Pig, and watched people throwing the fish at the Pike Place Market.

We figured that since Canada is so close to Bellingham, and since Deborah had never been to another country, that we might as well step foot in to Canada while she was here.

We showed Deborah the waterfall at a park in my hometown.

Hanging out with my family at the Auction

Deborah got to hear some great music, and see where I work at night.

Deborah with my brother, Kyle standing at the bench that is dedicated to my grandfather, overlooking Bellingham Bay.

Deborah can’t come to the coffee capital of the world, and not experience great coffee!

Looking at the Seattle skyline from Kerry Park.

Of course we took Deborah to the top of the Space Needle.

All in all, this was a memorable trip, that I never knew would happen. It was so special to be able to show Deborah around the city that I grew up in.

RIP Steve Jobs.

Though you may have changed my small, self-centered world for the better, you have not created a better life for others.  I don’t wish to have my own little iWorld created by you, and consuming products made by people who are being treated as less thans. I wish for a world of equality, and as long as sweatshop workers continue to create products for me and my selfish ways, in inhumane conditions I can’t see it fit to praise you as a genius, or “the greatest CEO of all time.”

A company should be judged by how it treats its lowliest workers.

Here is a report from a worker who managed to sneak in to an apple sweatshop factory in China:

With the complex at peak production, operating 24 hours a day, seven days a week to meet the global demand for Apple phones and computers, a typical day begins with the Chinese national anthem being played over loudspeakers, with the words: ‘Arise, arise, arise, millions of hearts with one mind.’

As part of this Orwellian control, the public address system constantly relays propaganda, such as how many products have been made; how a new basketball court has been built for the workers; and why workers should ‘value efficiency every minute, every second’.

With other company slogans painted on workshop walls – including exhortations to ‘achieve goals unless the sun no longer rises’ and to ‘gather all of the elite and Foxconn will get stronger and stronger’ – the employees work up to 15-hour shifts.

Down narrow, prison-like corridors, they sleep in cramped rooms in triple-decked bunk beds to save space, with simple bamboo mats for mattresses.

Despite summer temperatures hitting 95 degrees, with 90 per cent humidity, there is no air-conditioning. Workers say some dormitories house more than 40 people and are infested with ants and cockroaches, with the noise and stench making it difficult to sleep.

I believe a company should be judged by how it treats its lowliest workers, and as the CEO, I don’t believe that Apple is treating it’s lowliest, anywhere near how it’s treating the highest on the ladder.

I don’t admire that.

…also with a net worth of over $7 billion dollars, and to have not donated a cent of that to charitable organizations, I find that utterly selfish. Personally, knowing that Steve Jobs is adopted, and that so many hands played a role in allowing you to have a safe and loving family, and thus getting him to his eventual platform, and knowing that social workers and adoption agencies are non-profit and don’t bring in money aside from donations. I think you’ve slapped the very organizations that helped you become who you are, in the face.

But, to be clear – RIP Mr. Jobs. It always saddens me to see people die. No matter if they are powerful, influential and amazing, or impoverished, unfairly treated sweatshop workers.  A death is a death. It’s a loss.

Source: http://gawker.com/5847344/what-everyone-is-too-polite-to-say-about-steve-jobs

The biggest completed goal? Finding my birth family.

Year 26 Goals (compiled via help from the internet).

My Health:

1. Drink plenty of water.
2. Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a beggar.
3. Eat more foods that grow on trees and plants and eat less food that is manufactured in plants.
4. Live with the 3 E’s – Energy, Enthusiasm and Empathy
5. Read more books than you did in 2011.
6. Exercise everyday.

Personality:

1. Don’t compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
2. Don’t have negative thoughts or things you cannot control. Instead invest your energy in the positive present moment.
3. Don’t over do. Keep your limits.
4. Don’t take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
5. Don’t waste your precious energy on gossip.
6. Dream more while you are awake.
7. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
8. Forget issues of the past. That will ruin your present happiness.
9. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone. Don’t hate others.
10. Make peace with your past so it won’t spoil the present.
11. No one is in charge of your happiness except you.
12. Realize that life is a school and you are here to learn. Problems are simply part of the curriculum that appear and fade away like algebra class but the lessons you learn will last a lifetime.
13. Smile and laugh more.
14. You don’t have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.

My Society:

1. Finish memoir, and get published.
2. Each day give something good to others.
3. Forgive everyone for everything.
4. Spend time with people over the age of 70 & under the age of 6.
5. Try to make at least three people smile each day.
6. What other people think of you is none of your business.
7. Your job won’t take care of you when you are sick. Your friends will. Stay in touch.

My Life:

1. Do the right thing!
2. Get rid of anything that isn’t useful, beautiful or joyful.
3. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
4.  No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.
5. Continue with the natural hair. AFRO!

What an amazing journey this has been. 

The meeting of my birth mother falls into that category of significant and life-changing events that I will never forget: getting my driver’s license, graduating from college, my wedding day. It almost feels like it is a rite of passage. Generally rites of passages indicate a person changing from one status to another, such as a Bar Mitzvah, or Quinceañera. I feel a though I am changing from the status of broken, to complete. I say this in a very abstract way, as by no means did I grow up “broken,” as I had a wonderful childhood, and have had a wonderful adult life thus far, but, I have felt a piece of my self-puzzle has been missing. This trip may serve as putting back that missing piece. It actually wouldn’t even be “putting back that missing piece,” because there was no piece to begin with. We’ll create and put into place that missing piece. That’s more like it.

I’m trying to go without expectations, and simply revel in whatever comes of this. But, I am hopeful that questions will be answered, and closure will be brought.

I am so excited to meet my birth family, and so thankful that I have my family there for support.

Boarding the plane, and about to fly across the country for this trip of a lifetime.

Here we go!!

Raising Katie