Adoption Feelings

Gotcha!

You say “Gotcha” and my mind races back to those days;with no regard to what it might be like, was like, is like. There is no room in the word “gotcha” for me. And while I can understand the feelings of joy my son’s parents had; heck, I comforted myself with the fantasy of what it was like for them..to balance it out, to give the pain some meaning, some purpose besides myself; I like to think that they did think of me..wondered too..if I was sad and feeling alone, empty. Like I thought of them..full of joy..loving my child.


No More Sarahs

To me there is a line. It doesn’t matter to me where you are when you are above (or below even) the line. You can be the most militant abolish adoption and hate it in all forms. You can be someone just struggling though. You can think that it worked out good for you personally. You can want reform, call yourself a first mom, an birthmom if you want. You can be in CUB, be in OriginsUSA, joined the social workers guild based on your experience, speak at conferences. I can’t judge that, that is YOUR truth. WE all fit somewhere..and does it matter exactly where you are on your journey?


The Choice of the Damned

Yes, I “decided” to lose my child. Yes, I was “very sure”. Yes, technically, I had ‘other options’, but in my heart, in my head..there was no other option just this thing that I must do for us both. I believed what I was told. I wanted to believe it since at least believing it gave me some hope. Of abortion, of parenting..both were dark and cold as seen by me. My views were skewed. Our lives at stake. And I was in no position to make this life long decision. Yes, I needed to be protected from myself.


Adoption: The Tapestry of Gray, Weaving Truth.

There is no simple answer in adoption. Adoption is made of millions of individual experiences. We all have a thread in it. We all weave it together.

Adoption is not one color. It is not one shade. It is millions of different shades of gray, some threads change mid stream…from brightly colored, to the black of death, back to a pale whisper of what it once was. Some are almost invisible, but they are still there, holding their place, keeping the pattern alive.


Momma Bears Unhinged and Non-thinking Pitfalls

How else can a mother be able to walk away from her child except that she feels that it is the best and only thing for her baby’s well being? Where else does she get that strength except from her internal momma bear? And what if that momma bear has been given the wrong messages? What is it is based on crazed idealistic fantasies and stupid lists based on doubt? What if she could harness all that internal strength needed to fight the grief and instead use it to fight all the reasoning behind a possible loss? What if she stopped trying to be the “best birthmother” but tried to be the best mother? What if adoption reasoning and lists and generic feel good thoughts of grateful and happy adoptive parents didn’t get in the way of natures supreme processes?


Shattered and Broken Hard

I would love to see a real deep physiological study done on the growing up, formative years of women who “choose” to become mothers of loss. My guess is that we were not loved unconditionally by mothers with issues who tended to be narcissistic I think our fathers might be either absent or didn’t stand up to our mothers rule. And maybe that could also be reversed too? I wonder if we ever felt worthy of anything, so how could we be worthy of our children?
It’s a hard battle to feel I am suppose to have anything I want and keep it. Sometimes I don’t feel I deserve it at all. And then, part of me screams how much I should have and I am entitled. But I still am afraid of the loss again.


The Long Term Ripples in Adoption

Sometimes, it comes with the birth of a second child that makes us realize what motherhood means, what was truly lost, what is gone forever.
Sometimes, it just comes with maturity. We become less self absorbed and see what we decided does not just effect us, does not just “build a family” that makes us feel good, but that the loss continues to grow and effect others in our lives in ways we could not see.
I tell the pregnant and considering adoption to look beyond the immediate. Not just at NOW, but at later.


Adoption: an American Revolution

Will you document the Mothers who were lied to and forced to lose the children they so desperately wanted, or will you only show the few happy reunions of such broken women? Will you discuss the issues and problems of current adoption practices that do not really honor the bond between mother and child and how to make things better, or will you just show the smiling faces of the “happy good birthmother” and promote more adoptions for a 13 billion dollar industry?



My Friend Merridee

It’s her son’s birthday this week. That haunting look just flickered quickly though her eyes when she told me. No one could have noticed the quiver in her voice. I saw it. I know what a birthday means.
“When do you usually crash?” I asked her.
“I’ll get hit on Wednesday” she replied.


Hyper Fertility: I Didn’t Ask for This

Sometimes things are just not controllable Birth control is not infallible. Some infertility is not fixable. Hyper fertility is not always fixable either. I do my best to control it, but all I need is one sperm. You know, they are really, really little. Kinda hard to find and catch sometimes. Slippery little buggers with only one thing on their mind. In over 20 years, I missed 8. I have a normal sex life…how many of those guys have I seen a week, a year, in the past twenty years? Eight out of 200 million kabillion is NOT a bad ratio.


The Adoption Reunion with My Son; Making it Current

Since he would be 18, he could open up his records..if he desired. And if he did that, then he could “find” me and we could be “official” and then completely manage to avoid telling his folks that this has now been happening already for almost 7 months. Really, at this point all I wanted to do was avoid getting them upset and get him out form the burden of secrets.



More on Max; Letters from my Adopted Son

If I had not searched for my adopted child, then it would have been not an issue. But I am not a saint. I am not a completely unselfish person. I do have my weak moments..or strong..depending on your viewpoint and perspective. And no matter what..I am a mother.

And I just ask you all this..to try to imagine for a second what it is like to know your child is out there somewhere..and you have longed for so long..and you find out that there is a way to reach out and touch team again. All I can say was there was NO WAY I could have not done it.

For myself, I believe for him, for my other children…one click. I am not that saintly of a human.