Pregnancy and Parenting Post Adoption Relinquishment is Not the Same
On the list of things not told by the adoption industry and usually not even touched on during “birthmother counseling” is the fact that there is a good chance that motherhood will never be the same for a birthmother. Even under completely different circumstance than the adoption, years later, the mother we could have been has been altered. She is gone. What is left is a new mother, a new persons, one forever altered by the relinquishment experience. While I have written before on how adoption affects the kept child, pregnancy is also different.
A New “Normal” for Birthmothers
I was recently invited to write a guest post for the “What to Expect” Word of Mom blog. As the post was to be about pregnancy or parenting young children in some way, I thought it might be best to talk about the very real need to know “What to Expect” when you are a birthmother. The post is supposed to be going live today, July 10th, 2013.
The post did NOT go live no matter how many times I have refreshed my window all day. I’ll share when it does, I promise!
OK.. Day late! I am happy to report that there are a bare minimum of edits (like the title!) “Being Pregnant After I Relinquished My First Baby to Adoption”
I will admit to being very excited about this post. For one, the “What to Expect” community has 2 million readers. That’s a heck of a lot of potential mothers and birthmothers who might, pretty much guaranteed, not to know about these issues of adoption. I am always a fan of breaking OUT of AdoptionLand and getting our voices to reach new audiences. This is how we spread the word of adoption truths.
As I believe that this is again, one of the first posts by a birthmother speaking truthfully about adoption in that community space; PLEASE consider going to the my post and commenting there. Please support the words of birthmothers by sharing the post through social media. I would like the powers that be there to see that :
- Adoption posts are good for sharing and discussion.
- Birthmother voices are needed.
- The adoption community supports truthful articles
- And then, I am sure that the uneducated will comment as always and we need reinforcements to back up the truth.
My hope through this is that they will be more likely to give us a platform to share and write our experience, so this is a way that we can work together and make it happen. If we comment and share, then it will. I know this. Remember: trained professional marketer. I know the purpose of guest posts and what they want out of them to be considered successful!
The other thing I wanted to do with this opportunity was make sure that it was not just MY voice nor MY opinion. While I am very honored that so many other moms have told me that they appreciate my role as a public face for birthmothers, I DO take this responsibility very seriously. It’s not for the “glory”, not the tons of horrible, nasty, soul crushing commentary joyful, positive attention, and not for all the profits of blogging about adoption.
Huge Thanks for Those that Shared Their Pregnancy After Adoption Issues
So I asked the adoption community to share with me what issues and challenges they personally faced with pregnancy and parenting post relinquishment; triggers, concerns, the unexpected. And I send out my heartfelt thanks to the many who shared. Out of the responses, I broke up the separate issues into categories that were defined by the experiences to identify key concerns and then used those separate quotes in the “What to Expect” piece.
However, again, this is not just my story. And so, as a companion to the piece, I would like to share the full comments. I have removed any identifying information, but if you would like to be associated with your quote and linked back to your own blog or site, then please let me know. I will ad in links and name however you desire.
The Full Vignettes of Other Mothers:
How Adoption Relinquishment Affects Later Motherhood
*Later pregnancy*- prayed it would not be a boy, I never wanted another boy. 100 sons would never replace the one I placed for adoption. *harder* to believe I was worthy of being a mom to the next child I was carrying *surprising* nothing really. *triggers* Holidays and his birthday
I think the main thing that affected me was the desperate feeling that I couldn’t bear to lose another child. I became extremely protective, probably more than I would have been had I not been through that experience. I had nightmares about the deaths of my raised children. I was terrified of something happening to them or someone taking them away from me. Every holiday and birthday with my children also reminded me that I was missing out on that time with my oldest child. Every event was a trigger.
Being asked if this was my first baby sent my mind into a tailspin, I never knew how to answer it. I usually just said that, “yes it was my first.” Then I’d feel this over whelming sense of grief. Everything was harder during the pregnancy, granted the two of my boys are only 16 months apart. I could not stand the scent of “ocean breeze” of any kind, especially the candle scent. It would send me into a vomiting spell followed by depression that would leave me in bed for days. Come to think of it, when I was not working, I was in my bed. I was extremely anxious coming upon delivery. I thought for certain my baby was going to die during child birth. I would have dreams constantly about holding my baby for a few short minutes then him passing away. Now actually parenting an infant is probably a whole ‘nother article.
Wow that is a good question! Because of my CHOICE I decided to not have children due to the trauma of the adoption process.
My situation was unique, my youngest child was adopted at 16 mos old & I retained custody of my eldest daughter. It colored our lives so completely, the grief & loss lasted for years, while I am parenting one daughter I have not been able to have more children. The fear of loss is most likely at the root of it. Open adoption closed & we were left to pick up the pieces. Family Tree days at school were the absolute worst. There are no words to fully express what losing a precious part of your family feels like. It never gets better. You learn to be numb and you don’t talk about it. People very rarely ever understand.
Overcompensation for sure….Way over protective. Over did every birthday, Christmas, etc. Wouldn’t hardly let her out of my sight. To this day, she is rather a clingy child. I own that. I did it to her. ***sigh*** I too had lost pregnancies after placement. I also gave birth to my daughter in the same hospital & came unwound on the staff when they wanted to take her out of my sight. Fear? IDK. First words out of my mouth when she was born were ” I get to take this one home with me”….
I had my daughter 4 years after my relinquished son. I bought into that “you can have other children” scenario. I stupidly thought this child would be the “replacement” child for the lost child. WRONG! I felt his absence more intensely. And, I realized I had put undue expectations on my baby daughter. But, I was a true helicopter parent. I never left her with anyone other than family – and them rarely. I was terrified that if my son could be taken for no reason at all, what little thing would I do where she would be taken, too? I was 21 when I had her and hyper vigilant as I raised her. I had my second daughter at 29, and during the pregnancy I was convinced she would be taken – I would never take her home or hold her or anything. Just like my son. I was shocked when I got to keep her in the room with me in the hospital. I had a terrible time bonding with her for some reason – fear I think – and I never was able to get really close to her.
During both pregnancies, I was ashamed and couldn’t figure out why people were so happy. Sick, I know, but it wasn’t until reunion I realized all of this. I still can’t go to an obstetrics office. I had to find a gyno that DID NOT do obstetrics. I wanted to tell the women to run. Sick what adoption does to you, isn’t it.
I have three subsequent raised children. I prayed for a girl in my next pregnancy. My daughter was born 3 years almost to the day my “lost son” was born. I was an inept mother. I believed everything I did was wrong from nursing to potty training. I was never allowed to hold my lost baby so when she was given to me in the hospital, I didn’t even know what to do !
My next child 3 years after my daughter was a son who looked like my lost baby. I know I “distanced” myself from him emotionally to the point that my relationship with him was one of the issues I took to the therapist AFTER my reunion. We have since worked on out relationship, but I lost the joy of this wonderful son of mine because I’d surrendered his older brother. I have a last son, 6 years younger than his raised brother. After 12 years I finally felt I “got it right.”
This loss impacted my later children. At least in reunion they could say to me, “We understand.”
I had a second baby much younger than I might have because I believed that it might help assuage the loss at least a little, but it never did – it was actually more acute over the years. During my pregnancy I also had to remind myself that it was “OK” this time and I was a married woman (1982). I was extremely protective of my younger raised son. At the same time, I was less able to open myself up as a mother. There was so much that was repressed, and you can’t repress just part of your life without it affecting everything else.
As far as parenting after? Well, I went into marriage with a “no kids” stance. After awhile I began to realize I actually wanted to parent and it scared the shit out of me. I went into counseling to resolve the shame I felt at having given up my chance to “mother”, so that when I did get pregnant I wasn’t carrying that baggage with me. I can’t imagine what it would have been like had I not worked all that through first.
When I finally let myself get pregnant, I lost the baby at 5 months along. Devastating as it was, I knew I was meant to mother a child. My daughter was born a year later.
I think that doing all that work beforehand helped me really embrace my children and cherish every moment. I was a better mother because I took nothing for granted.
4 years after surrendering my son for adoption. I had a girl I was always afraid she would be taken from me. I didn’t realize that after she was born I was very depressed. I remember my legs felt like lead. I was a very protective mom
2 years after I placed my son I was a college grad, a nurse, married and pregnant again..I carried my daughter for 32 weeks and stopped feeling her move..went for an ultrasound and we discovered she died while in utero, the autopsy revealed she suffered a stroke…my son’s adopters told me it was God’s Will since I sinned getting pregnant with him..I thought her death was my punishment for placing ..I never really attached to the other kids when I was pregnant or right after they were born, it took me a while to fall in love with them. I never believed that it was really going to happen, always thought I was inferior and did not deserve them ..I have felt damaged as a mother for years..people will say to me you have done a great job with these kids, they are kind, they are polite, they are smart and accomplished and all I think is they did alright in spite of me..no one knows how horrible I am no one knows I failed my first child, no one knows what a horrible girl I was to get pregnant at 18..therapy helps but I am still hyper protective of them
I suffered psychological infertility. Had many miscarriages.,, when I did get pregnant it was hard when I learned that due date was close to my daughter’s birthday. July has been a bad month for me since I lost her. My son was born close to her birthday, so glad it wasn’t the same day. My mother is a bitter international adoptee… She has never dealt with any of the after effects of adoption. She made me give my daughter away. Now am the very opposite parent she is. I refuse to hit my kids as I was many times. Lots even as I was in depression because if the loss of my daughter. Feel free to inbox me with any questions…
My two sons almost were not born because of my adoption experience. I intentionally sought out and married a man that did not want children as I was convinced I did not want, did not deserve, could not deal with getting pregnant again. Two years into my marriage my husband changed his mind. It took me nearly a year to agree to get pregnant. It was twelve years after my surrender that I finally had another child. Twelve years. When I finally did have my oldest son, I had serious PPD following it. I had difficulties bonding with him. I am embarrassed to admit that it took me several years and therapy to do so. My therapist pointed out that while I was very responsible and caring towards my son I was not very emotionally attached. This angered me but I had to agree it was true. Through therapy I learned I was intentionally distancing myself from him due to my loss of my first born to adoption. I did not feel I had the right, could, should etc. love him if I had not loved her. Bonded or not, I was always terrified of losing them, not knowing where they were, what they were doing. I wasn’t necessarily overprotective. Since I was aware of this tendency I tried to control it, tried not to helicopter mom too much. While I was trying NOT to show it to the outside world, inside the emotion was torturing me. I remember one particular incident where I lost it, completely, total breakdown when I could not find my son. My reaction while trying to find him and when I finally did was OFF THE HOOK.
I was pretty much deep in denial when I gave birth to my three raised kids so the pregnancies didn’t bother me too much adoption-wise. Except ~
When I was due with my oldest raised son… I was due at the end of April, but went overdue as I did with the first two. The doctor was looking at the calendar deciding when to induce me, the 2 week date landed on May 8th, which my relinquished son’s birth date. Just typing that reminds me of the deep panic I felt when hearing those words. I told him I absolutely couldn’t have the baby on that date, that I HAD to have him before that. Looking back on it now I see that I was so very close to having a panic attack. When the doctor saw how upset I was, he finally agreed to induce on the 6th, two days before the two week mark .The birth of our third child (my fourth): My hubby and I had two kids, I was perfectly happy to stop there but he wanted one more. We discussed it A LOT, I had many reasons I didn’t want another one, adoption/loss never entered my head in the reasoning till I became pregnant (found out the hard way that antibiotics and birth control don’t play well together). I had started caving a little bit on the possibility of having another child, thank goodness, but the day I found out I was pregnant this loud (yet silent) sob rang through my brain with the words “but I don’t want another child, I want the one I already gave birth to!” That was the beginning of my coming out of the fog. Although I stayed in deep denial, if not going deeper into denial, looking back I see now that I began to fall apart in that moment and let my life go out of control for about 15 years. When I no longer was able to hide the mess my life had become, was finally having to face reality, I knew that the loss was behind it all. That is when I decided that I was going to get my shit together then look for him. Unbeknownst to me at that time, he had started looking for me (again) and a search angel was going to put us back together before I could make that appointment with a shrink to get the ball rolling.
I didn’t realize till after reuniting that I was an overly involved mom, over-protective with my raised kids.
So every pregnancy has been marred by my family in silent awkwardness of not joy. So that triggers that same alienation I had when pregnant the first go round. I waited about seven years before having my oldest daughter. The pregnancy choices care wise was me becoming even more empowered about demanding informed consent about each thing, because the lackadaisy prenatal care I had the first time followed by a terribly awful induction that almost killed my son, influenced a lot of my feelings and actions. After my son was born, he stopped breathing in the nursery. Even though no papers were signed at that point, no one notified me of what happened, or explained how we was to stay in the nursery for a few more days under observation until much later.
When my daughter was born and they took her to the nursery, it was busy that night and they didn’t return Juliet to me until six or seven hours later only because my husband went and demanded it. I cried so much that night, unable to walk to the nursery because of the epidural, afraid to call anyone in because of that first experience. It was me without my baby again.
Each time I warned the staff about how I relinquished my first. I wanted no accidental assumptions. I wanted no stupid sayings. Everyone in that way was supportive.
Each birth afterwards, I managed to heal a bit from that first trauma, but always ended up in tears somehow still triggered in a different way. I almost died the fourth go round afterwards when miscarrying from blood loss. After surgery, my nurse saw my chart and asked about relinquishment. She was newly pregnant and in that same fearful what am I going to do moment. Despite everything I had suffered through before, instantly I felt compassion and uplifted by the fact that I could encourage her in ways I was never spoken to originally. One night of talking made her ready to face it all and be the person she wanted to be to her child, the mom.
My last pregnancy was a boy. My only other boy. And I was forced to have him at the same hospital I birthed and relinquished in the first time around. As soon as I knew, I had the hospital chaplain walk me through to get my ghosts out. It was so hard, and I still couldn’t walk into the nursery, the place where I ultimately said goodbye. Pandora’s box behind a door, and I can still feel that emotion housed there even though I’m eight hours away.
When I gave birth, thankfully it wasn’t the same. But they didn’t have all my records and the day of the week made it impossible to get those records in time. Thus the assumption I had no prenatal care, and they called a social worker. Of all the things I did not expect when taking my tour a week or two earlier. “Let’s recreate a visit from a social worker.”
Absolutely devastating. The chaplain and my pastor had to talk me back down out of the PTSD reaction.
Further reading on “You Can Always Have More Children”! Please see this piece by Jane Edwards on FMF Second Child Doesn’t Replace the One Lost to Adoption.
Please feel free to share your own experiences on pregnancy, child birth and parenting after placing a child for adoption. We need to re-write a truthful version of the Birthmother Rules for those who have the misfortune of coming after us. That’s the only thing we can count on the adoption industry for… they will continue to try to make more birthmothers and they won’t be warning them, like they never told us!
After giving up my son, I was adamant that I would have no more children. Sixteen years later, with my biological clock counting down, I had the first of two daughters. My son’s birth was still a secret to everyone except my mother and my son’s father, so my pregnancy with my daughter masqueraded as my first. My tower of lies felt like it would topple and crush me. After my daughter’s birth, the grief that I had previously suffered over the loss of my son exploded. Bonding with her, I experienced the full magnitude of what I had done. The post-partum depression was debilitating and returned with the birth of my second daughter three and one-half years later. The ripples in the pond were spreading. The loss of my son was no longer just my loss. He had sisters. There were cousins. Aunts, uncles–it was clear now that I had initiated a tragedy for my entire family. I doubt that I would have survived if I hadn’t gotten the help that allowed me to find my son and happily reunite with him. Now that he has three grandchildren, my heart skips a beat whenever I imagine my world without them–still lost to me behind the screen of sealed-record adoption. Please feel free to publish my link, Claudia, and thanks for an excellent post.
That should have said three children–they are my grandchildren!
You struck a nerve here with me. I was only able to even think about the idea of having another child after I found my son. Before that, not knowing of my adoption experience, people probably thought I was a person who didn’t like children. There is 20 years difference between my son and my daughter. I was 40 when I had her, I was lucky. That I met him and I was able to have her.
What really surprised me was my reaction to your call for our post adoption pregnancy (or lack of) experience. I copied out the address but I could not bring myself to write. When the article was published, I couldn’t read it. I printed it up and finally read it today. Excellent.
Marianne (aka UM)
Had an operation to cut my tubes. 3 years after my son was violently removed from me and sent away to be adopted. I could never allow myself to go through that again. They had taken my son from me during his Caesarian birth and refused to return him to me in the hospital. Fear inspired my decision and we hope i reversed the operation to restored my anatomy at 40yo but psychological infertility resulted from the years of grief and guilt and I was never able to have another child. Ironically their childlessness was transferred to me.
It’s great that you are helping birth mothers voice their feelings and frustrations, and focusing on post relinquishment issues. Several of these stories brought tears to my eyes.
I stumbled upon this website, because the son I placed for adoption several decades ago found me recently, and I am exploring websites having to do with reunion and birth mother issues. With all due respect for the women who have shared here, my post-relinquishment pregnancies and birth experiences are my most beautiful memories. When I became pregnant with my first son, I had known the father (my new boyfriend at the time) for only 2-1/2 months. I was 19, he was 18. It was all wrong. I was a fool, because I did not love this young man, but yet I was careless with him. He showed up at my college dorm room with a wad of money in his wallet after having made an appointment for me at the nearest abortion clinic. I thought I would go through with it, but a deep maternal instinct made me say, “No!” I went through the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual pain of a pregnancy as an unwed mother to give my son life rather than death. I walked away from that experience knowing that I made the best choice for all involved in what was the unfortunate situation of a pregnancy which was never meant to me — with a young man who was bad news and should have never been in my life. Huge lesson learned. I eventually married a man of character, dignity and respect, with whom I shared the news of my previous pregnancy once our relationship became serious and received his full respect for my decision. Together we have two children, and when I became pregnant both times, my only feeling was that I was fully entitled to these babies. I enjoyed every minute of my pregnancies with the babies I conceived with my beloved husband. I wanted to experience this joy to its fullest: I chose to give birth with no pain killers and I breastfed both my daughter and my son for a complete year. I was aware the entire time that my heroic and politically incorrect choice to choose life over death all those years ago, when most other girls would have aborted, had freed me to move forward with my life with no guilt and with only eager anticipation as I awaited the births of my two precious babies who were conceived under the proper circumstances: as part of a stable, mature couple whose relationship was founded in love and commitment. I am not a strongly religious woman, but I know without a doubt that, as the Bible says, God has blessed me with “beauty for ashes,” and I do hope that other birth mothers like me can begin to see the blessings that have come into their lives post-relinqushment, rather than continuing to remain stuck in the pain of that experience.
Well you might be one of the lucky ones, but just be prepared… reunion tends to bring up a LOT of loss issues. Come on back when you think you are feeling crazy.
And also, just for your son’s sake.. they often don;t need to be told how we blossomed so well without them. It tends to make them feel badly.
But I am sure you don’t me telling you anything since you’re so heroic and all that.
You could just have said: “Funny, I had no problems at all with later pregnancies”. It is quite remarkable that you do not say anything about relinquishment, was it forced, coerced, were you brainwashed? Do you even understand that quite some pro-lifers are anti-adoption as the suicide increase in adopted and birthmothers is unacceptable. Your relinquishment could have been (and still may be) the reason for your son to take his own life, and if that happens what will be the value of you not having aborted your child, you will have murdered him all the same.
@ admin: “Come on back when you think you are feeling crazy” — I guess words of encouragement from one birthmother to another birthmother are not welcome here. I am aware of the issues that reunion can bring up, but this article is specifically about post-relinquishment pregnancy, and regardless of the challenges inherent in reunion, that doesn’t change the fact that I was able to enjoy my subsequent pregnancies and still look back on them with joy. And why do you assume that I shared this with my first son? I’m sharing it here with the appropriate group. Unbelievable that a birthmother is only welcome here if she shares her pain and heartache and is rejected if she also shares a glimmer of hope/words of encouragement.
@ThW5: You’re telling me how I should have told my story, including suggesting the exact words I should have written? Once again, the topic here is post-relinquishment pregnancy and I told MY story about that in MY words. You’re no better than the people you criticize as you think you have a right to COERCE me into how I should tell my story! And to bring up suicide? You’ve got to be kidding me! You think I should feel bad about choosing life over abortion because of some statistics??!! Unbelievable!
You’ll both be happy to know that I will never be looking at this website again. (Of course what would really make you happy is for me to continue going back and forth with you so that you can continue to criticize me, but I’m not sticking around where I’m attacked because I don’t uphold your status quo of believing that my life is pure misery because I’m a birthmother.)
No, I was just suggesting that if you are not talking about relinquishment, you should not be using that many words. You see, your story does not read true to me, you only talk about why you did not abort, not why you did relinquish, or how, and the topic of this thread is Post-Relinquishment-Pregnancies, NOT Post-Non-Aborted-Pregnancy-Pregnancies, so are you real or just a pro-adoption-propagandist?
I will respond to your most recent post, ThW5, but first I have to say that I came back to this website only because it struck me that you wrote what you wrote (calling me a potential murderer) because the son/daughter you placed for adoption may have committed suicide. If this is the case, I am truly sorry. This is the only explanation for me as to why you would write something so cruel, and I would just advise that you be careful in the future. A comment like that really should be deleted as it hits below the belt.
Funny, I’ve heard time and again that nobody is responsible for a person’s happiness except that person — not their parents or their teachers or their friends or the government, etc. So if an adoptee chooses suicide, that was his/her choice. I don’t mean to be cruel, but it does boil down to each of us being responsible for ourselves. Or maybe there is a genetic predisposition and that person would have chosen suicide even if he/she remained with his/her biological family. In this situation, there is no control group, so we can never really know! For a birthmother to carry the full weight of responsibility when an adoptee chooses to commit suicide is very, very sad and not at all fair to the birthmother who never meant to harm her son/daughter.
It really pains me to read these posts and see how much guilt and pain women are going through. I believe that based on the circumstances at the time of conception, pregnancy and birth, there were compelling reasons for all of us to choose adoption and that we based our decisions on the information we had at the time. I have not doubt that every birthmother hopes to do the best for her child. We can’t beat ourselves up now because we did not know all the facts about adoption.
You say that you doubt my story and that I didn’t say enough in your opinion regarding relinquishment. I thought it was clear: we were young, barely knew each other, and truth be told, I did not love this young man. After I chose to have my son, I made the choice for adoption. I did this while at college and phoned my parents a few days later. When I told them I was “in trouble,” I also told them that I was choosing adoption, so I gave them the news of the pregnancy and the news of my decision at the same time. I walked voluntarily into an adoption agency after having made that choice, so I can’t blame the agency for not explaining all my options to me — for example, where I could have gone for support in my community or through the government so that I could survive as a single mother. I also can’t be mad at or critical of the adoptive parents — yes, they create the demand for the adoption industry, but they didn’t seek me out and steal my child. They came to a reputable agency seeking a child and did things according to procedure at the time (reputable meaning legal and not black market).
Has my son had a terrible life because he was placed for adoption? From what he tells me, no. But he also shared that he wondered for decades about me and about why he was placed; I know this was not easy for him. Nevertheless, I am grateful for the life and the opportunities he’s been given and grateful that his parents have supported him and have provided a stable and loving home for him.
If I had kept him, there would have been a lot of challenges for him. It would not have been easy. My choice was made with no knowledge that being an adoptee would also sometimes mean pain, so I’m not going to beat myself up about that now. And as I said: there would have been very difficult challenges for him if I had kept him. My family situation was not ideal, and I would have had a lot of concerns about how this would have affected him.
And just to mention the whole “life versus abortion” stance — my son was born in the early 1980’s, so I know that he knows there was another choice which was readily available to women like me. I never expected nor desired that my son would ever say “thank you” to me for that. But I thought about it, because I always hoped that he would know that he was cared for, that he would know that my choosing life was my choosing him, even if I didn’t feel that parenting him myself was an option at the time.
The first time we spoke, my son thanked me for my choice. As I mentioned, I didn’t desire to hear this, but it’s what he wanted to say to me. He thanked me three times — even if it’s hard to understand in this modern day and age why a woman chose closed adoption (times were different back then), he understood that life did mean love, that it meant caring, that it meant that he was valued and important.
Please do not reply with anymore cruel remarks or try to find something negative to say about what I am sharing this time. I’m not writing this to make anyone angry. I think we birthmothers should be kind to each other and that we should encourage each other. If we don’t support each other — not only in our pain but also in moving beyond our pain — then who will?
No, I am not an adoption advocate (!) I am just a birthmother who knows that my life was meant for a lot more than to look back and be hard on myself three decades after I made a choice at the age of 19 which was made based on my circumstances, my understanding and my maturity at the time. And I think all of us have blessings we can count that have come into our lives after relinquishment; we need to think about that too, and we need to be kind to ourselves. Otherwise we are the ones to suffer — physically, mentally and emotionally.
So with that being said, I sincerely wish every birthmother who is reading these posts all the best for a future filled with peace and joy. Take care of yourselves and love yourselves in the same way that you love your children. You deserve it; truly you do!