The Records of My Son’s Adoption

So back last week, before my fateful trip, I had written to the agency for my records as one can refer to How to Get Massachusetts’ Relinquishment Consent Forms here to see wow I had to strong arm my agency into complying to something they should have done 19 years ago.

As I had predicted, aka hoped, as I traveled up to Boston from New York, my records would be travelling to New York from Boston. When I spoke to Rye after checking in to the hotel, he informed me that I had a letter from the agency..and I told him to open it and check it. Being only about 15 minutes to their location, I figured if they didn’t comply as I had hoped, I could very well be annoyed enough to go there.

While it was not all that I had hope for, they did provide every official thing that I had signed, initialed and had my signature on it as their licensing entailed them to do.

 ***

Recalling Nic’s reaction when she recently checked out her papers, I was hesitant. I got home on Sunday night around 9:30 ish and saw the UPS next day envelope in our bedroom, but only briefly touched it. I knew what it was, but didn’t want that reality to dampen my joy of the day.

Even this morning, I waited. Heck, I choose to fold laundry first, and I usually think that anything is better than folding laundry. And after a bit, yes my determination to have and know what was mine as well as the curiosity, made me gingerly open the envelope once again.

I didn’t have to re read the appropriate cover letter. It was bland and straightforward, lacking both warmth and maliciousness  and Rye had read it to me on the phone already anyway. I didn’t care about it then, what they really had to say to me anyway. I knew that just by sending me the papers, that they had to give me what I was obligated to have and that was all that mattered.

Years Later, My Adoption Relinquishment Records

It was all the rest that was enclosed.

Let me preface this by saying that I have always known that I had one of the “better” agencies. I was never threatened by unpaid bills, called foul names, or made to feel anything less than a maker of the infertile’s miracle. I was given poems to read of tributes to the life giver, great thanks and good times. I was treated with kindness and sympathy at the hospital. And the family I lived with was truly good hearted and my friends. Becoming a “birth” mother was as comfortable really, as it could possible get. In fact, I am sure that is one of the reasons why I continued to feel all warm and fuzzy about the experience for almost 14 years.

“Legally” Denying A Father His Right to Parent

Now looking back, yes, there were certainly things that make me ill. That I was instructed and given the means to deny Max’s father his rights….just screams wrong, Wrong, WRONG. Yes, I know I was deathly afraid to tell him, I felt ashamed, and stupid, and would rather not…but that should not have been enough. They knew, that I knew who he was..that there was no question. And that I had somehow managed to never directly inform him that I was, indeed, pregnant with his child, his to be only child. I should have been made to deal..not for him, not for me, not for them, not for an easy adoption, not so they did not have to face the fact that a mature 45 year old unmarried Manhattan lawyer had good cause to want to help me raise our child, not even for Max, but because it was the correct and ethical, the right thing to do.

I know I spoke of him by name.

Yet, on the affidavit..the “mother’s affidavit pertaining to the Biological father”..I sign that (6) I certify that I am unable to furnish any identifying information about the biological father insofar as I …( and here it is typed in) refuse. I believe that he does not have any interest in me or my child.

That paper is signed by the notary public who must have been there. Mary D. Foley…I have no recollection of a woman. I still “see” a man there. ??

Reading my writings of that time, I know I was really angry at him. I felt betrayed as he didn’t acknowledge my ever growing belly. That he just accepted it when I became annoyed with him and refused his invitations without ever inquiring why. That he didn’t just see it happening and love me, love us, rescue me from myself and life. Yes, his actions allowed me to believe he had no interest, but man, someone really should have check that out!

Whatever I believed, whether time or not had a way of filtering, as I reported in the End of Procrastination when I finally DID tell him, 19 years too late..his first words were “Why didn’t you tell me?”

But that’s not the worse part.

The worse part is….I walked right into it.

Yes, I CAN take responsibility  I have always known that, really, for the most part, I did indeed CHOOSE this. Why oh, why, I still wonder as it was really NOT a good idea, but like Nic, I can say that 90% of it IS MY FAULT.

Adoption Coercion and Relinquishment

Yes, I was told beautiful things about adoption. Yes, the “assistance” that I was informed of was unbecoming to a nice middle class Long Island girl, Yes, I know that I could have gotten over myself and just taken what I could get, that pride is no excuse. Yes, I was cut off from my family…mostly my mother, who I really DO think would have turned around and be the strong one who KNEW what a loss like a child was to our family even if I was too immature and full of glorification and selfish thoughts to know yet.

Yes, I do think that even the housing, with a great couple of adoptive parents and their new treasured adopted infant was subtly seducing. Yes, I do know that I was not given access or knowledge of the research current to the time that clearly warned of the long term effects of relinquishment on my life. But, yeah..even with all that..I do wonder, as I often have if *I* would have listened.

You know all those “content Birthmothers at peace with their decision that ‘really made an informed choice“…I was SO ONE OF THEM.

And still..I ended up being like this…watch out, I say. If I could become me, well then…don’t believe any content anyone.

I am scanning the papers. I have nothing to hide. You can see them ( if I scan them again.. I have no idea where the old files are for them). Yes, you can say “I was told”..I know, I know. I see it too. I see my signature. I know it is my handwriting. I was still putting the cross-line in the “O” of my last name as a tribute to my adolescent heartthrob Adam Ant.

I do recall hearing them say it over and over again..that line…

“Her free act and deed, fully cognizant of it’s irrevocably  yet, I swear I was shocked when I found out and wrote this, that I had NOT remember that I had no revoke time frame to change my mind.

Oh, I know I knew then, but I was sooooo sure, soooo determined…so positive ..and so wanting to prove how “smart and sure and strong I was” that I would NEVER waiver in my decision so I didn’t NEED no stinking time frame to ..snort..ha..change my mind..only the weak and selfish did THAT!

• I do see that I waived my right to counsel.
• I see that I stated that it was of my own free will.
• I see that I said I had knowledge of all options I could do.
• I was free of medications, and drugs.
• That I had counselling of sufferance.
• That I could wait to make a decision.

All the good thing that ARE suppose to happen..well at least many of them.

And I tell you, it did no good I am still the same me. ..regretful, horrified, disliking infant adoption, wanting to call for urge reform, anti ME.

Even with all that you see here, all that I DID sign, all that I was told, I still felt that I had no choice. I did this because it was the only thing I could do. And I signed all, I agreed to all, I waived all because I was trying to be the best dern birthmother the agency had ever had. I wanted them to be so proud of me. I wanted acceptance and I knew that by being “strong”, by being determined, I would make them happy. I would prove my worth.

Now, you might say that that is MY issue, my stupidity, my ego..that they did their part..after all you can lead a horse to water, right, but you cannot make it drink…and you might be right. I don’t know.

I mean, I read this all, I see my sad signature, I know what was in my heart, I see this man boy now, who he is and I KNOW that he was always meant to be with us..he is so one of us…and I think he knows it too. I really, really DO want to go back in time and bitch slap some sense into me.

I so HATE that I DID THIS…but I do know what I was trying to do..I was trying to be good and not cause anymore trouble. I just accepted that this was how it was done.

Accepting The Horrors; Making Mistakes

When I did the Montel Show…it occurred to me how we fall into situations like this. I had never relinquished a child before. I had never been on TV before either. I had come on in, wait here..ok. Come here in this Green room, now wait..ok. Sign this ( hmm…looks all legal like..should I? What does it really say? Huh, I don’t know! Hope it is nothing too bad coz I am signing it otherwise they might send me home). Ok now sign this waiver. ( damn..what IS all this??) Here, we give you all $25.00 ( damn, that’s insulting! but ..you guessed it..OK)..go here, look like this, go downstairs, wait go back up …you can’t talk to anyone…OK…now do this..OK. I did all that Montel people asked me too. I never asked why, never questioned it all. Some of it didn’t feel good, but heck, it was presumed .THEY knew what they were doing, THEY did this all the time, I was new..and I WANTED to do it, so I followed their rules…as THAT was how it was done. Good TV show guest, good pregnant girl. Heck, I CAN even apply to to the ‘other’ side..and say “Good adoptive parents” …just following what the the professionals say. I mean, I GET how good people end up doing bad things because they don’t want to cause trouble. Stupid yes, but IT HAPPENS. It happened to me.

So these papers, they say that I am stupider than I had remembered. They say I have some more self hatred and disgust to work though. They don’t tell me much more that I can not remember. All I can still remember of that day is how long it took. It was a lot of signatures..and they did read it all over and over again. ..so it took some time. I still recall most the horrible feeling of just wanting them to SHUT UP..hearing over and over, forever, and always…probably peppered with some IRREVOKABLES. I wanted Out of there.

I think I was in the Notaries office? That Mary Foley…whomever she was.

I know who the one witness was..Joan..the adoptive mom who I lived with. And I thought she was there. Who this Mary Quinn was..I have no clue. I had thought that either Jeanne, my counselor would be there for support, or Liz Quakenbush, the director for the officiousness .but Mary?? I see she is not part of the agency now..I do not know if she was then.

So all I had that day, for the second worst day of my life..was a kind woman that I knew for three months. Hmmm.

The other thing that is REALLY WEIRD..that I swear I recall that the waiver for identity I signed was for the release of records at age 18. It says 21 now. But why it then, would I always have the age of 18 in my head??

And the funny thing is..I KNOW that it WAS 18 at the time I relinquished. I remember when it changed to 21 about 5 years ago. The difference was on the MA registry that I had signed up for…I remember reading something about the waiver changing and being very worried that the 18 would turn to 21.

It does not look doctored, but they are copies..and waitout and zerox can do wonders. I do not know. I can not accuse..it is just………….. ..w e i r d.

Oh and like NOTHING is dated practically  Some of the things were signed earlier on. I didn’t put in my family medical history to the pile to be scanned for you..coz really, it’s not that interesting. That, oddly enough..was filled out on 9/11. That’s just a BAD date I guess.

Also, check out that The plan was ONLY for two days of foster care, just enough to get those papers ready. And so while I was advised I could take more time, there was no plan for me to do so. Only stupid wavering chicks did that anyway, you know.

I would like you all to pay particular close attention to the very last pragraph of page 13. It states how within one month of my first meeting with the agency, I shall be provided with a written service plan…”outlining the services that will best help me“.
Page 14 is that service plan.
It is blank.

So with these papers..not worth the 50 bucks for sure..I do commend the agency for doing all that was necessary legally. Indeed, they have covered thy ass quite well. No, I will never be able to prove the forces of coercion  that is true. And yes, I was the foolish stupid lamb who made a terrible mistake and got devoured by the world of loss.
Perhaps it is time now for some self flagulation?
I scorn me well.

Stupid, stupid girl. WTF was I thinking? WTF indeed. Such a horrible idea it was..this adoption..ha.

It is great testament to the wonders of my son that he is able to understand and still welcome me so.

He is above, all else, amazing..amaxing as I always typo it..my Max, my son..who I did indeed stupidly and foolishly let slip away.