When Birthmothers Judge Other Birthmothers

There was a time, for many years, when I didn’t know one other woman who had relinquished a child to adoption. For the first 12 or so years, post the birth of Max, I never knowingly met or talked or saw another birthmother. I say “knowingly”  as chances are, I might have stood in the presence of another mom at one time or another, but neither I, nor this unknown mother, ever identified ourselves as a post relinquishing mother, mothers without our babies and so, I never knew.

Of course, that all changed when Rye brought the computer into the house and I found my way online. After Googling “adoption”, my world would never be the same and I quickly found myself communicating with other birthmothers and adoptees; soon to meet more birthmothers in person, to learn to rethink adoption, to unlearn what I had been taught by the agency, and to face adoption truths that I had previously not known existed.

One of the things that I quickly learned was that there were differences in birthmothers, differences in our experiences, differences in our views of the adoption of our children.

When A Birthmother Views Adoption Differently

While I often do sheepishly identify myself as a former Kool-Aid drinker, of course, at the time, I had no idea. When I first came online, I had thought that other moms would have similar experiences to myself. I had been taught that “only strong selfless woman  made the choice to relinquish babies to adoption” and was shocked by so many birthmothers saying how terrible it really was.  My first glimpses of older mothers, Baby Scoop Era mothers, forced to be separated from their babies at birth, was both horrifying and  frightening. While I felt compassion and, in time, better understood their anger, I was quick to find the differences in our stories and think, “that was then, this is now, adoption is different”.

This is part of processing;  we mentally separate ourselves from a group that has different views to disassociate ourselves from some unpleasant truth, a connection we desire not to see. I feared their anger. I fear what they felt. That adoption was not a perfect win-win solution for both Max and myself. I didn’t want to know that, to see, that , to accept that I had the power to do something different, something better, to admit that possibly, my “choice’ this thing I was taught to be proud of, was actually a bad idea. So I was not like them; their story was not my story. Their truth, not mine.

Different Sorts of Birthmothers

At one point, years ago, I tried to break up the “different kinds of birthmothers” into groups with names. I even had some kind of rough flow chart that showed the possible transformation a mother as she reached different points of understanding on her journey.  I did find it impossible to really categorize us as there were so many different variables.  BSE moms, open adoption mothers, mothers who choose adoption, mothers who drank the Kool-Aid, mothers who were angry, mothers who were lied to and had closed adoption when open was promised, mothers who must play the happy birthmother card to have access to their children, mothers who feel God led them that way, so on and so on.  Every single story has its own definable traits that make them unique, plus the personality of the mothers, her age,  how it as dealt with over the years, how much support she had and when, the status of reunion, ..these make every story of every adoption relinquishment unique.

Commonalities Among Birthmothers

However, with time, and listening, I did find the common bonds, the root of shame, the shared grief, the aftermath of life as a birthmother who surrendered. If nothing else, no matter what a woman might feel about whether or not she had a choice, or whether or not she feels adoption was good for her child or a huge mistake, we all know the deep loss and grief. No birthmother can deny that, at least I do not believe I have ever met another mother who was able to walk away and not have the grief become either her constant comparison or her worst fear.

Yet, still, I could see that other mothers focus on what separates us, rather than what binds us together.

Mistrust and Judgment Among Birthmothers

As a mother who made the initial call to the adoption agency, and who felt a misguided pride regarding my choice for many years, I have to acknowledge a certain level of distrust felt from  other moms who just cannot imagine actually thinking, even for a brief moment, that adoption relinquishment would be something ever willingly entered.  I understand that mistrust, at least I think I do.

The way I see it, the moms who knew they were being forcible separated from their children, knew to be horrified from the very beginning. There was never any mistake of thinking adoption as anything less than a form of emotional matricide. No sugar coating, no pedestal of birthmother sainthood to raise them up above the hurt. Many fought the adoptions of their children, resisted as much as possible, only to truly surrender to forces stacked against them. Times were indeed different and possible recourse, later available to me, to others before, others after, were not available to many a BSE mom. And surely, if they had had the opportunities I had, they would have had different outcomes. I was not, after all shackled to a bed, treated cruelly, or told to “never speak about it again”.

They are different than me. They are smarter, maybe loved their babies more, would have won the war for their motherhood if only they had the choices we did, they would have made a different choice.  At least that is the unspoken message I have felt over the years.

How could I be willing to do this unspeakable act? How could I have been so stupid?

Sometimes they are unspoken and sometimes I see it almost directly stated. I ask myself the same questions and have spent years examining the many possible answers.

Sometimes I find myself doing the same with mothers that have come after me. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. There was no Internet back in 1987. I had no place to research to be warned. It’s easy to think these younger mothers now must be stupid or something to relinquish when they could so quickly learn what awaits them. I have talked about my own struggles supporting ALL moms, even the ones that I just do not get. It is hard, I repeat, it is hard.

Not to be snarky, but it’s easy to judge with the gift of hindsight. Perhaps, even, a failure of human nature. We compare, we contrast, we separate and we judge. It’s much harder to see the commonalities, to allow ourselves to be grouped with  others who we cannot understand.  And it’s natural, I think, to be angry, with what we do not understand. Or fearful. Or mistrust.

What We Do Not Understand, We Fear

Society still has a hard time understanding the concept of mothers truly having no choice to relinquish their children in the BSE times. I have heard the pain of adoptees who struggle with understanding what their mothers went through. “Why didn’t she runaway from the maternity home,” they ask. “I would have told my family to fuck off.  I would kill anyone who tried to get my baby from me.”

It’s even harder to understand the coercion of adoption relinquishment in my time and what it has morphed into today. Society is completely convinced, due to the careful marketing message of the adoption industry, that it is a choice made freely, without undue influence. Where is the gun held at your head?

But I ask, how can any of us ever expect to make the world understand if we cannot possible extend that understanding to each other. When we hold each other over the same coals that society has already built into a roaring fire of damnation?

When Mothers Silence Other Mothers

The other day, I read the words of another strong voice in the adoption community who was publicly dismissing the views of another strong voiced mother who had a different experience.  More mothers chimed in agreement. “What right does she have speaking for us?”  they asked. “That’s not what we lived through. We are different,” they said. “She needs to stop,” they declared.

Really?

I mean, really?

It wasn’t about me, but I will take it personally as I have feel that same damnation from other mothers, strong voices, mothers I looked up to, mothers I learned from, considered mentors  I trusted. As someone who has accepted a public mantle as a birthmother and who openly speaks about understanding the birthmother experience, I know the same criticism can be extended to me as well. What right to I have to speak for all of us? Who made me the self appointed voice for our collective voices?  What if my relinquishment details do not match the rest of us? What if what happened to me is different?

The fact is I have NO right to speak for ALL of us. I don’t try to. It’s my story here, my experiences. Now, at this point, over a dozen years in, I do make more general statements about life as a birthmother based on stories I have heard, and observations I have made. But still, they are MY observations and I fully acknowledge that there are always exceptions, always different viewpoints, always other circumstances, always another voice. I welcome others, I encourage others to use their voices to tell their story. Blog I say, add your voice, be loud as you can, share your story. All our voices are needed until we drown out the mythology with adoption truth and the whole world understands what we went through, how  adoption hurt both us and our babies and how we need to protect other

But stop? Again, I say, really? A strong birthmother voice, a person who is willing to BE public, to take all the condemnation of stupid stereotypes, public comments while supporting others on the journey and who has a clear track record of doing this for years, decades.. you want her to STOP because HER story does not completely take YOUR individual circumstance into consideration?mothers coming  down the pipeline to the adoption industry machine.

WTF!

Birthmothers Can Suppo

rt Each Other Even When We Are Very Different

Like I ranted last about all the adoption groups as a whole and the lack of working together towards a common goal like the Korean groups have, I say this to my sisters of sorrow:

 To each and every one of us who has known the pain of empty arms, I am sorry that you have been hurt in this way by the adoption industry, but let us keep focus on those who have hurt us, the adoption industry, not those who suffered the same fate.  Yes, you have your own feelings, your own story, your own truth and your own beliefs. They are yours, they have a place and you have a right to share them. However, we cannot dilute the strength of  one, but should add to it.  We should not be screaming to be heard, but taking turns lifting each other up in support.  We should not be angry when another’s views are different, but understand that each mother has different resting places along the journey. We should not begrudge mother who chooses to use different tools or uses different language especially when we have the same common goals, a share vision.

At least that’s what I think. I am not the “Birthmother Queen” who gets to make all the rules, but just one voice.  And I will use this voice to say to my sisters that when we turn on each other, you are only giving power back to the very same people that created this adoption pain to begin with. It helps them win.  When we fight and judge each other, it hurts us all.  When we say negative things about another birthmother, when we judge her choices, we dismiss her voice just as surely as those who dismissed her motherhood. Just as surly those who dismissed yours. It saps her power and takes away from the strength we have in numbers.

We all know how much that sucked. So stop doing it!

Throwing the Birthmother Under the Bus

I don’t care if you hate that I use the word birthmother. I have explained it again and again until the cows come home. My goal is to get as much adoption truth out to the general public and to those who need help finding their way into the adoption community and THEY use the damn word. For that, I have made a conscious choice to use the word. I have explained why and also explained how to do the same so you can own the Google rankings too and be found when people search. I cannot, will not, take blame for a calculated decision that actually works and achieves a goal that should be shared and supported for all.

I mean, I get it. I swear. I really really understand and respect why you won’t, but I just don’t feel that it is THE thing that will gain us respect. I believe that the word IS degrading and does minimizes the role of the mothers, but that’s too ambiguous of an idea for many to understand. Heck, even a lot of other mothers don’t get it when explained or they don’t know enough to care. And the general public? They can’t even get away from the stereotypes of “unwanted babies being saved form life times of welfare moms and abuse” to respect us enough a human beings  with feelings that matter much less what we are called. It’s cart before the horse if you ask me. Let’s get people to understand first, by finding them by exposure, by education, and then, when they care, they will be much more likely to be open to the idea.

At least that’s my approach, but you do what you want. I don’t care if you use another word that works for you  and annoys the next mom in line. Call yourself whatever you want. Just stop busting on the rest of us, eh? Don’t we have enough “enemies” already? I mean I don’t like hearing other mothers being called “birth term Nazis’ as a descriptive either. I don’t want to call you that, but sometimes, I do. I admit it, I do.

I am not going to care if you get angry because I am too loud or public or think I have some self appointed birthmother god complex.  I can’t help it if MY experience does not perfectly mimic what happened to you. And even if we had similar time frames, or at the same ages, or the same hospital, even then, what you think and feel is bound to have differences from what I think and feel because we are DIFFERENT PEOPLE. That’s OK. There is room for all of us.  I’m still going to keep on doing what I do as long as I can because I can. And really, that’s why I am so crazy loud; because I CAN BE. My family supports this battle. My son supports my work.  And, form the support I have online, other mothers support what I say and feel that I speak for them. For whatever reason I can talk openly about this experience, these feelings and I don’t lose my shit and freak out when someone says some horrible thing about us.

The point being that NO ONE is stopping you from doing the same. I mean if YOU want to be represented, then DO IT. Don’t get snippy because one blog does not say enough of what YOU want. Make your own. Or OMG, instead of publically bitching about another mother, CONTACT her. All that energy you put into being all secretive when throwing another mom under the bus behind her back, you could just as easily sent an email explaining your concerns. How hard is it to say “My story was like this and I think a lot of other moms might share the same views. I worry that we are underrepresented in this ongoing dialogue. What can we do to fix that?”

I know I would welcome an email like that and my reply would be;  how can I help you be heard? Would you like to write a guest post, would like help creating a blog, would you like to learn SEO for more traffic and to get your voice heard?  I would never tell you to shut up. I would never say, “Sorry only mothers who relinquished at the age of 19 in 1987 have a right to speak here or I have an interest in helping”. How stupidly short sided and ludicrous would that be?  The way I see it, every story here that I post or share on the networks that somehow illustrates the trauma, grief and loss created by the adoption industry backups every other post I have ever made. Every comment made, helps make a case, that my story is no exception, that what happened to you is no less important, that what happened to her is just as valid and together they paint a full picture of what adoption truth is. Together, we make it happen. Not by trashing, judging, condemning, or finding fault with each other.

I don’t care if you were a Baby Scoop Era mom or relinquished last week. I don’t care if you went away or proudly announced. I don’t care if you were drugged, tied down, coerced, drank the Kool-Aid, fought kicking and screaming or went quietly off under the rock of shame. I don’t care if your adoption was opened or closed. I don’t care if you are in reunion or not. I don’t care if you were forced to give up your baby or you thought adoption was the greatest thing form sliced bread. I do not care if you call yourself birthmother, first mother, natural mother, mother of loss, mother who relinquished, exiled mother, biological mother, a crack whore birth mother, a DNA source, a donor, a vessel, a family building angel, or just mom. I don’t care if you were married or “unwed” at the time. I don’t care if you were 14, 17, 21, 26, 32 or 43. I don’t care that you “got it” last week, last year, or came out of the adoption fog last decade. I don’t care if you are angry, sad or accepting. I don’t care if you are loud and vocal or quaking in the birthmother closet I don’t care what makes us DIFFERENT. I know how we are the same.

We are all mothers who lost our babies. I only hope you are doing the best you can to heal yourself, do right by your child and hopefully, make a difference, in some way, at your own comfort level, so our numbers decrease.

Oh, and this other strong mothers voice who got trashed on, she’s pretty much of a like mind as well as anyone should know.

You know how I know?

For one, she posted about it herself today.

But beyond that, as she and I are very different; apart in age, in experiences, in backgrounds, but still we support each other. We don’t vie for attention, but share opportunities just like we share each other’s posts. And to quote her “Strength in unity, my friend.”

It’s hard enough, this life. Let’s support each other and work together, not tear each other down. The rest of the world does that enough. Be a good sister and allow us all to have a voice!

#End rant.