Somewhere, in another state, another tree that I will never see, holds pieces of my family’s heritage. I imagine that nursery schools in Massachusetts also help young student create gifts for parents out of glitter and handprints, popsicles sticks and finger paints. I can only imagine the proud joy of my 4 year old son placing his tissue wrapped creation under the tree. It might have said “mom” on the tag, but it was never meant for me.
The Family Research Council claims to have conducted MORE research for the Birthmother, Good Mother: Her Story of Heroic Redemption, but after reading the two of them entirely, I believe that this new publication is still coming off of the original study. Both reports use the same copy for the methodology and both have the same research group, with the same number of participants in the same age ranges. I see Birthmother, Good Mother: Her Story of Heroic Redemption as a modified piece that demonstrates the actual twisting of the mind of a women experiencing an unplanned pregnancy. It’s really like a “How to Create an Kool-Aide Drinking Happy Birthmother” guide. It’s really rather frightening. I’m not sure whether women are really that easily manipulative or we are just really stupid for falling for this. Or maybe it’s just all internal and they have managed to tap into it. All I can tell you is that this feels like reading the inside of my brain during the whole adoption process.
I’m in the midst of it all: Adoption Trauma week or better known the Season of Max. So here it is; it’s November. The week from hell. Trying to remain “normal”, but feeling so very tightly strung up as if I could break or snap at any moment. Tired, impatient, restless, annoyed, teary, over excited, sad. Friday: Finish another long week, and promptly get into a stupid agreement with Rye…
How to Describe Life as BirthMother? I love it when someone else reaches inside and pulls out their heart to show us. This is a good read. Well done. This part: “…it was too hard for her to feel so much, and she has let go now. We know each other, but we pretend not to feel anything. She is there, but impenetrable.I have vowed to be different. To…
It’s no secret that I LOVE Halloween. We spend weeks decorating. Seriously, I used to control myself until October 1st, now it’s back to school and get out the Halloween boxes. I actually spin the spider webs on my porch like a spider would. It takes me hours. I don’t even think Martha Stewart does THAT! Ok, she does, but mine ARE SERIOUSLY way MORE BETTER! I have more backlights than…
Maybe it just had to be like this. No advanced planning, no time to think, no opportunity to worry, wonder of second guess; just a chance to hit the road and once again, begin the journey back to Boston, back to my son. Could it be that I was actually going to Boston for a work function and my son, relinquished, searched for, found, and now four years into reunion, was meting us to watch the kids for me? A child care crisis gives adoption reunion a new name: NORMALITY
That it was the day before Mother’s Day and officially, urg, Birthmother’s Day made it only the more sweet.
“In choosing adoption they can now see themselves as good mothers, the highest form of motherhood – the mother who chooses what is best for her child regardless of sacrifice it requires of her. In doing what is best for her child, she fulfills her need to see herself as a good mother and accept the pain of relinquishment. In this way, she transforms agony of the entire story into a redemptive experience where she becomes a heroine in her own eyes and in the eyes of others.”
However, since GSA is often a part in adoption reunions, I would actually say that it is NORMAL to the adoption experience and again, another reason WHY we must talk about it and acknowledge that it is here. I have seen it stated in some places that GSA feelings can occur in 50% of adoption reunion situations. That makes it common to the adoption experience.
Over at Grown in My Heart it’s Adoption Carnival Time again! This time the topic is poetry. I ‘m not awful big on poetry, but I have a little something something I can recycle for today. *** I always say I am “First Generation MTV” which basically means that I was at the perfect age when MTV launched to be perfectly impressionable.. and MTV helped shape my life. I think it…
And the Hope Never Dies I tell myself not to expect anything. I know not to set myself up for disappointment, but still, it’s impossible to avoid. For years, my mother’s day routine has been to go out and get myself all my spring annuals and just spend the day gardening my fool self off. Then, starting off from the years of being a single mom to one little boy…
After living years without knowing if your child lives or dies, much less what their name is who they look like and anything else, reunion is so often seen as the great holy grail that removes all the former yucky stuff and makes it into a thing of the past. Live it long enough, however, and we learn that adoption can never really be in the past and it’s so the “gift” that keeps on giving. More new situations arise. New emotions develop. Still no road map and I doubt anyone is immune.
Here it comes. I don’t know why I am surprised. It’s November. It’s National Adoption Awareness Month. Max’s Birthday is on Saturday. My due date for him was tomorrow November 12th. Into the Season of Max I roll.. Gotcha Gotcha Gotcha! I feel the big cranky coming on. Tuesday night when I found myself almost in tears over a pretty much a nothing conversation with Rye, I immediately thought “PMS?”,…
Adoption was almost more like a crack that happened in my soul. A crack that that I thought and was encouraged to believe that would be temporary or always below the surface. Over time, the rest of life worked it’s way in, like water in cement and caused the very foundation of myself to crumble
Yeah, you read that right. I actually am having trouble believing it myself, but it’s true. On the eve of the final mass preparations for the Adoptee Rights Protest in Philly, I read this comment in my email box from an agency regarding my post about birth mother grief: This is a stunning, painfully true description of the birthparent experience and we thank you for your candor and courage in…
Honestly, really. I think I should get paid off for relinquishing Max to adoption. The happy fuzzy feelings from relinquishment and my adoption counseling has worn off. It’s been gone for years now. Instead, I think maybe getting at least some cash for the years of pain and suffering won’t do any good in getting back what I lost, but nothing ever will. At least, I could get some new…