Recently, I had the honor of attending Hope’s Funeral.

Bonnie Vanessa Hope was my second name (after Baby Jane Doe). This name is significant as this was the name used for my formal adoption to my parents.

When I received the email and learned of a new abandoned baby and that they were dedicating the name Hope, I immediately felt compelled to attend and I flew in a week later. The Garden of Innocence is based in San Diego, CA and provides dignified burials for deceased abandoned babies. These babies who never received the choice of life are laid to rest with dignity and respect. The amazing individuals at the Garden of Innocence pick these babies up from the police and put them back in "god's hands" with careful attention to handmade caskets, formal funeral processions and giving the child a name, which is formally registered and labeled on their tombstone.

Before the Garden of Innocence was formed, abandoned children who died in San Diego County were cremated and scattered at sea or buried in unmarked graves at Mount Hope Cemetery.

As I was dealt the card of life, I felt it was most symbolic to pay it forward. With this said, I am reaching out to you as an ambassador for Hope.

These ceremonies cost approximately $450.00 USD. Any denomination would be greatly appreciated and heartfelt to the brilliant souls at GOI. A little from many can add up and go a long way. Cheques are preferred and can be made payable to "Garden of Innocence San Diego".

To learn more about GOI, please visit:
www.gardenofinnocence.com

Photo courtesy of CBC News

Today was a remarkable day. Today (with the lovely gents from CBC) I ventured to the abandoned baby drop-off doorway at St. Paul's Hospital in Vancouver, located just up the street from my office.

For the record, I am conflicted on this issue as I do believe it can promote abandonment (looking at the USA's statistics - abandonment has tripled since they enacted the Baby Moses Law) however I do approve of it as our society does in fact need this. These innocent dead babies who have died in dumpsters or plastic bags needed this.

As I walked up to the Hospital Emergency doorway, I gingerly walked around the corner to the drop-off baby door. My eyes instantly locked on the cold grey, metal door and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I surrendered to these emotions and took it in, slightly amazed at my reaction. As much as this is about the mothers who need social support and these babies that need to survive, it selfishly comes back to self. It selfishly came back to my primal pain and experience as an adult "abandoned baby". To visualize that I could have been left in this doorway made me ponder my own abandonment. I questioned; does this solve anything? Is this a good thing? Does it truly make it better than a cold outdoor doorway? Perhaps that leads me to believe that I would want to be placed in a warm, indoor facility for immediate care. The experience of these emotions convinced me to accept and appreciate the role this drop-off will play in innocent lives to come.

A woman who abandons her baby doesn't just dream this up as she plays with her barbies as a young child. She is in anguish, hormonal, in dire straights and typically has poor social support. She firmly believes that she has no other choice, whether she is mentally incapable of making this decision or not.

I believe that the point of this drop off is to save lives - not to contemplate what is politically correct or what the masses will accept. Dr. Cundiff's intentions are pure, appropriate and meaningful. These babies who have been saved (and I can attest to this) dare not care what is "proper" or the best political decision...we just simply care that someone cared enough to keep us alive.

What does it mean to an “abandoned” person to take full acceptance and acknowledgement of their story and pain? What does it take for one of us to weed through the negative and labels; foundling, orphan, thrown away, discarded, deserted, dropped, rejected, neglected, stranded, ditched, relinquished, left, forsaken, cast off, jilted, cast aside, cast out, cast away. Whether we decide to believe or absorb these labels, we have this film running in our minds, consciously or not. Perhaps the key and pinnacle to this acceptance is bringing it full circle?

I can only speak for myself and convey that I believe we are never truly over this loss. At the best of times when we think we have “dealt with it” and neatly tucked it away in the corner of our mind; we are triggered by a birthday, a death or even a sappy movie. It reoccurs and triggers time and time again and that the weakest moments in our life, it invades until we find the strength to deal with it or tell it to come back next year.

In the beginning of my journey I felt an incredible urge to visit my “spot”…the place I was abandoned. Indeed I was fortunate enough to share this experience and recreate it with Ron and his lovely wife (Ron was the man who found me in the early morning of the 14th) after many years of searching and media assistance. It was incredibly traumatic, yet healing, but it still was not enough. I felt that my strongest moment would take place when I returned on my birth date, or rather date of abandonment.

This year as I rebound from a few years of personal distraction I find myself longing and wanting for this connection. I desire to bring this full circle and visit my spot on my birth date.  Tickets are booked, hotel is waiting. I have my love on my arm to support me…

I am thankful that I have arrived at this momentous pinnacle…it may not seem as momentous as you may think, but knowing that exactly 33 years ago I was at that spot is the best claim to my identity that I can scrounge up.

I was at a business forum meeting today with a room full of strangers. At the table, we did an exercise of choosing questions from the bowl and then we had to answer them out loud to all the other attendees. I must admit, the first question I received was very easy. I should have known more was coming.

The second question was “What was the most fulfilling and best decision I have ever made?” I absorbed this question for a moment and asked myself; should I answer it professionally in this professional setting, or do I give myself license to open up the floodgates of my ever so honest and bold mouth?

I chose to answer this: “My most fulfilling decision I ever made was deciding to go public; open book; naked; honest to the public and to everyone about my story and my feelings.” I explained my story while the ladies at the table picked up their jaws. It’s not like I sensationalize it or want for this reaction, but people are generally taken back from my story and my honesty.

This decision is something I have very little regret for. Yes, it has unfortunately opened the floodgate for criticism and ignorant comments, and yes, this may have drastically reduced the changes of my biological parents coming forward; but...I will never regret this lesson I taught myself; the confidence that I instilled in myself on this public journey and teaching the world it is ok to be honest and tell people that you were adopted; abandoned; neglected; institutionalized; suffered as a child and young adult; and that deep down inside as much as we are ingrained to believe our adoptions were blessings, there is always a small part of us that simply says; it sucks. And by the way, that is ok too.

Photo by: Robert Karpa for Chatelaine photoshoot

Prince Rupert is holding their large homecoming event next May. I have been to the homecoming before, and up to a month ago, I was excited. I was going to speak, make my rounds and visit my “Prince Rupert Aunties”.

With the time nearing to book my flight on points, I have no interest or excitement. This time around, it seems like I am emotionally forcing myself to do it. I feel like a child on the verge of my own self-inflicted tantrum digging her heels in and saying NO! So, I would only suppose I should listen to myself?  I thought of brining my lovely friend Brenda (of whom I have told her I will bring her and show her my spot, orphanage etc.), but I’m afraid darling, I don’t have it in me. It feels like I am deflated from my own story.

This stubbornness and underwhelming feelings do not surprise me, but what surprises me is a lack of wanting to be involved in my community that forever changed my life. At this time it feels eerie and uncomfortable. Perhaps for those reasons I should adjust to the "clock" and go, but I don't have any words of wisdom right now.

I don’t know what I will decide by May, but I am thinking it won’t change. I look forward to visiting on my clock with my youngest son to show him where it all began. In the meantime, I am watching my clock and guiding my emotions...my way, and ofcourse in control. 

I had a dream the other night that I adopted a baby girl from China. It was a quick and dirty freebee with no year long process. I was in China supporting an institution and they felt I would be a good mom for this young child and simply handed me this child, I signed a few papers and was on my way home. What a dream that is!

As I came home, I was beaming, overfilling with excitement and enthusiasm to introduce this new addition to my boys! I arrive at the airport, my boys were somewhat confused, but then unconditionally elated. My boyfriend (mystery man) was not happy and wore a scowl that could kill. He questioned everything; money; paperwork; called this a life-long sentence. He showed jealousy and contempt for this bundle in my arms.

I have pondered this for the last few days, as my “adoption" clock is surging to the forefront. Intellectually, I know it is NOT the right timing as I still want my career and my boys are still too young. Emotionally, I feel like jumping in and fulfilling this life-long dream. However, the deciding factor (and perhaps 10 years down the road) is that I am NOT married. For an international adoption, you must be married to be approved.

I had a lovely lunch with a colleague yesterday and I discussed why I felt this rule was wrong. If they truly took each case by case, then they would approve me, they would know I was fit, educated and perfectly familiar with raising a traumatized child. In a society where the divorce rate is just over 50%, does it really matter anymore?  And when a traumatized child only has the capability to attach to just one parent? Does marriage really matter? And when one sole person can raise this child better than two ill-equipped, naive married folks? Does marriage really matter anymore? I do understand why this rule is in place, but again, if the powers that be truly took it case by case, then I would be on my way to China…

Photo by: Annie Leibovitz

  Photo courtesy of CBC