When You Prayed Against Me

It was the lowest point in my life. I had lost so much in such a short amount of time. I had gone from someone who believed in a hopeful future to someone who was hopeful just to make it through each day; nevermind a future. I was shamed and left unsupported. I had broken social mores and had to be chastised for my deviation. Rebuke would get me back in line and closer to God.

You prayed against me.

You preyed upon me.

You dehumanized me.

You infantilized me.

You judged me.

You convicted me.

You punished me.

You devoured me.

Then you took a piece of me.

You paraded yourself as savior.

You prayed that I would fail. You prayed that I would be alone. You prayed that I would be unsupported. You prayed that I would be resourceless. You prayed that I would be poor. You prayed that I would break. You prayed that I would be unhealthy. You prayed that I would be unmotivated. You prayed that I would be detached. You prayed that I would disappear. You prayed that I would be forgotten.

You invited your friends, family, and church to pray all these things against me.

You say you never prayed for my failure, but you knew failure would happen somewhere to someone at sometime.

It happened here, to me, now.

I cannot separate your prayers from my greatest loss.

When you wanted a husband, did you pray for another’s divorce?

When you wanted a house, did you pray for another’s foreclosure?

When you wanted a job, did you pray for another’s dismissal?

When you wanted a child, what did you pray for me?

I am a birthmother. I know.

I don’t need your prayers.

And you are no savior.


11 thoughts on “When You Prayed Against Me

  1. Hi Velvet,
    That was beautifully and accurately put. πŸ’— πŸ€—
    As an adoptee (born 1960) I’d like to add to your poignant words if I may..
    You prayed I’d feel rejected by mother (because you would never let me talk to her to find out why I wasn’t with her)
    You prayed I’d never see her face.
    You prayed I’d never feel her arms around me.
    You prayed I’d never have her love.
    You prayed she’d never be there to be proud of me.
    You prayed I’d be seen as a shame to my family.
    You prayed you could buy me.
    You prayed you could make me a second class citizen.
    You prayed you could control me like a slave.
    You prayed I’d never know how much I was like my mother or my father either.
    You prayed I’d never know where I got my talents from.
    And most of all you prayed to sin against me.
    To steal me, covet me, bear false witness against me, and make me lie every day calling you a name you never deserved..
    Mom

    Liked by 1 person

      1. You don’t have to apologize Velvet. πŸ’— I just wanted to ask because I didn’t want to take from your post.
        But since adopters and their henchmen hurt and degrade us as well, I wanted to expose those wrong doings too.
        We adoptees are thrown into such an insane game after we are adopted. The rules are silent, not told to us, which is insidiousness, wicked and designed for the adopter’s ego once again.
        If we show any pain about not being able to know who our parents are we are deemed insane so the adopter doesn’t look bad and didn’t give us enough love (adopters were wrongly told by nuns and social workers that their love will make us not want to ever know who our moms are and not be with them, all bullshit of course). So then it comes down to you have emotional problems! You are ungrateful! You have bad blood! You have RAD!
        And we are punished accordingly (within the adopters narcissistic mantra, me, me, me, me ,me) with creepy shrinks and toxic drugs and ghoulish therapists, some who raped us. Even killed us. Like poor Candace Newmaker.
        Anyway, they have it all set up against us, but you know that hun. They have ways to torture moms like you and ways to torture adoptees like me. All for the sake of the Holy Buck and the Sainted Adopters Ego. I swear religion and adoption make me puke everyday..

        Like

    1. Whoops, looks like I screwed up one line.
      “You prayed I’d feel rejected by my mother”. I left out the “my” πŸ™„
      k, all better now 🩹
      πŸ˜„

      Like

  2. I’ve been writing my own list to this. Private for now. I’ll be back here soon to add some, or all of it. painful as the list is.

    Moms and adopted people are victims of the prayers of others who reap the benefits of our losses.

    Like

    1. That’s fine, just don’t steal what I said. I’ve had a problem with that in the past. It’s bad behavior learned from adopters that adoptees need to learn to fight.

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      1. Oh my goodness! No! I didn’t mean to imply that I’d steal your words.

        This concept has been stewing in the back of my mind for a long time now. It’s something that is private to all of us who have been victimized by adoption. Our experiences are our own, different for the others.

        I’ve not yet come to terms with what this post means to me.

        It’s a grief process, knowing that I came to be adopted by this one particular adopted family. I’ve always felt used by their neediness for “wanting a child” and by their religion, and their prayers. It was obvious to me that they’ve prayed for a baby. They were childless for 18 years. I was the answer to their prayers so that they could “have a baby” to raise “as their own.”

        When I questioned my adoptive mom a few days before she died in 2011, “So, your mother died and you were not adopted out of your family. Your father put you and your siblings in an orphanage (1918) and you never lost your family. When my mother died (1956), my father was given no supports to keep me. He kept his 4 older children but gave me away. You adopted me (in 1956) and prevented me from knowing my own siblings. How do you justify what you did?”

        Mom said, “We didn’t think about that. We just wanted a baby.”

        And then she said, “At least we gave you a home.”

        Like

  3. I am 60 now and I was adopted in 1961.
    All there prayers were answered, I am alone on disability with no friends to speak of. I don’t feel like I belong anywhere. People ask me sometimes what nationality I am. I tell them I’m American.

    Liked by 1 person

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