Tuesday, May 31, 2011

My husband was never fully for me when it came to be contacting my daughter. A lot of his issues I think came from his days of drinking and stem from the fact that he hadn't seen his Dad in about 25 years or so and had no contact. He just thought it was best to leave it alone. I used to get so upset because he took the time to wonder how Izzy's adoptive parents might feel but not how I might feel as a birthmom in the dark. He thought I should just get over it, on with it. Not forget her but find a way to live with things the way they were.

In, October, it's been a year since my face to face reunion with my daughter. My husband hasn't met her yet. There is a part of me that wants to introduce them and there is a part of me that is holding back. Plus, I know it's not a big concern of his to meet her. He has said, he should meet her but doesn't really want to at this point. I think it might be more that I really haven't asked him to yet.

It's kind of ironic that we both are in reunions with our family. My husband's children got connected with the grandfather that they never knew and the daughter pushed and pressured him into allowing contact.

When I asked my husband a few weeks ago, if he still would have left things the way they were, he said yes. So, I was shocked when he asked me how I would feel about him taking a couple days away to fly to meet his Dad and his Grandmother for the first time in many years. I was shocked but I told him it would be okay with me. We could manage with him gone for a couple days. I almost said, I wished I could go with you but then that would require flying on a airplane and I would rather not do that.

I hope he doesn't get upset that I blogged about this. It's just very interesting thing to be happening in both of our lives. I am very happy that he has opened up his heart enough to be more accepting and forgiving to his family. I imagine the trip won't be too far in the future because his Grandmother is over 90 years of age.

Well, that is my news for today.

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