Sad Genes

           I see in my daughter's eyes. The disconnection. It made me cry like a baby because I remembered the times in my childhood that I pulled away and was disconnected. All alone. It pains me to think my daughter goes through that. At such a tiny age she is just ten months old. And already carries such mistrust. She pulls away from me and twists her head up stubbornly. Not to face the person who hurt her so much. I pull her towards me and hug her. Her eyes bug out in stricken anxiety. If she finally lets down her guard a little, as I tell her over and over that I am there for her and cry with her a bit, the minute I turn away and put her down for a second, and I come back, she is all devastated again. I have let the emotions accumulate too much, too long, and now they wired and fire all together.

           This is my life. It feels like a nightmare. My husband assures me that we have time to heal her. We are still with her. But it still hurts. I want to feel the pain. It connects me to her, knowing how she feels. I need to be connected my life was too desolate of connection before to continue it. 

            If she had my genes, did the feelings of stubborn autonomy pass on to her? I recognize that expression I've played it out myself so many times. The pull away and look of loneliness. The let-down feeling. I wonder if I stuck that into her genetics along with her luscious little dark head of tussled hair and creamy skin when I formed her in me.

          Sad Adoptee