Monday, July 30, 2012

It's Not Anti-Adoption, It's About The Institution of Adoption

As usual, Amanda's latest post is a great one.  She writes about adoption reform being about the Institution of adoption, not the people of adoption. 

I sometimes worry that people reading my blog will think that I write about adoption only out of regret or anger.  When I write about the problems in adoption I am not necessarily speaking about my actual adoption experience, I am speaking of the institution of adoption.  I am not speaking against Christopher, nor his parents, nor am I wishing to deny him any part of the life he lives.  I am speaking out against the institution of adoption. 

Here is what I am trying to say, but Amanda says it so much better!

Adoption is an institution, not a person. As an institution, it impacts just about every vulnerable population in this world that one could imagine. Because of this, we need to be critical of it. We need to expose its flaws, discuss its triumphs, and be realistic about its global impact. We cannot mistake these things for being egregious assaults against parents who have adopted, surrendering parents, or other adoptees themselves.  In truth, there is nothing "anti-adoption" or "anti-adoptive parent" about wanting an adoption that works well, works better, and works more effectively to serve those who are connected to it.

Thanks for putting words to my thoughts again Amanda! 





P.S.  If you don't already read Amanda's blog, you should!


a

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Sharing The Words Of An Adoptee

So many times in the last week or two I have attempted to write about that stupid new show on the Oxygen Network, but every time I try I just end up getting mad and my writing turns into a rant.  Reading on their FaceBook page, I found some great posts by an adoptee.  I sent her a message for permission to share her words here as she doesn't have a blog and she said yes! 

I think it's important to know that it's not only the moms who are objecting to this show, it's also the ones who have grown up adopted.  I try to not write about the adoptee experience since I haven't lived it, so I'm happy to be able to share some thoughts from that side of adoption.

From Renee, an adult adoptee, in reply to some adoptive mothers on the "I'm Having Their Baby" FaceBook page:

Laura, I do, actually. Have you ever been an adoptee?

And yes, I do feel that the adoption industry should be abolished. Because it is not focused on the best interest of the children. I don't see it going away in my lifetime, though. So for now, why not consider a few things.


Most of the children adopted at this time are not TRULY unwanted. A few are, but in the majority of these situations, moms have found themselves in a frightening and overwhelming position and are unsure how to handle it. If a FRACTION of the money, time, and resources that are spent facilitating adoption were spent helping, educating and supporting the young women, there'd be even less. Also, there are many other ways to ensure that genuinely unwanted and at-risk children are cared for. Fostering, conservatorship, guardianship, etc. These options can give children stable homes, care, and love without revoking their identities and the very real bonds they have with their families.


If you think that your adopted child is safe from abandonment and attachment issues, you're wrong. Your child bonded with her natural mom while she was growing inside her, and she will grieve that loss throughout her life. People are not plug and play. Her loss will manifest in many ways throughout her life. Your love is not a magic Band-aid that can heal all her wounds. You are one of her mothers, but you will never be her only mother. A woman whose baby dies can never erase that baby's loss by having another. It's precisely the same for your daughter. She lost her first mom. Replacing her with another will never negate that basic and profound loss.


I reunited with my natural mother after both my adoptive parents passed away. I never lacked for love. But I never felt whole until the day I hugged my first mom. I knew her. I recognized her smell. I felt at home in her arms. Those facts would have devastated my adoptive mother--but bottom line, the cold, hard truth is why should I care? Why did I always labor to protect her feelings? It was supposed to be about me, right? The best interest of the child? Remember? Not the best interest of the adopting parents. THE BEST INTEREST OF THE CHILD.


It's not, of course. Adoption is not about the children. Which is why I'm against newborn adoption.


That and the fact that it's wrong to sell people. It's WRONG to SELL PEOPLE. It's also WRONG to BUY PEOPLE.


It's pretty simple. I have four objectives:


We need to teach sex education and family planning and make sure contraception is easily accessible.


We need to make it a criminal offense for ANY MONEY AT ALL to change hands when an adoption does occur.


We need to establish a strong system of support, education, and encouragement for moms.


And we need to make separation of mom and baby an undesirable last resort; putting the focus on keeping families together and gearing all solutions toward that goal.


If we do these four things, we can make domestic adoption the rare exception instead of the rule. There'll be fewer unwanted pregnancies, young mothers will learn to believe and trust in themselves, fewer families will be separated, and more children will remain where they belong. For me, it really is about the children.
A later reply:
You know, it's bizarre to me that when talking with adoptive mothers on the subject of corruption in the adoption industry, they ALWAYS seem to feel comfortable dismissing my arguments by saying I'm unhappy, miserable, angry, bitter, etc. I'm none of those things. I have everything a person could want and more: an awesome husband; a smart, funny, talented son; a beloved family; two sweet pups; a beautiful home in freaking paradise--and to add to my good fortune, I was able to retire from a career I loved at only 45, allowing me the bandwidth to work for a cause that means the world to me: Advocating for sweeping changes in the adoption industry. This is not an angry or unhappy life. This is a joyful life--and a fortunate woman.

Personally, I think you have to dismiss my words by claiming I'm unhappy and bitter in order to rationalize the wrong--and the damage--you've done. But you're lying to yourself. And to your children. And someday, your children will come to you with some very hard questions. Almost certainly, a lot of the same ones I've asked. For their sakes, I hope you come up with some better answers between now and then.

The truth is, though, that one doesn't have to be angry or unhappy to recognize the corruption in this system OR to be willing to work to change it.

I know where to place blame. I place blame on the system and those who enable and support it.

And I'm not trying to change your mind, Laura. Nor am I trying to change Holly's or any of the other women in this thread who clearly don't mind buying children.

I realize this is a foreign concept, but IT'S NOT ACTUALLY ABOUT YOU.

I work to reach young women considering relinquishment. If ONE young woman reads this thread and thinks,
"Wow, maybe I should get MY OWN lawyer and ask her about the laws pertaining to open adoption"
or
"It IS actually wrong to buy children--why would I ever give my child to someone who'll do something so wrong just because it gets her what she wants?"
or
"Why are these people who claim to be so 'good' willing to support such a corrupt system?"
or
"Maybe I should ask for the help I'll need to keep my baby instead of allowing these people to help me give it away"
or even
"Why are these women who haven't lost their mother OR their baby so incredibly rude and dismissive to women who have?"
then it's all worth it.

Those young women are reading these words. My words AND the adoptive mothers', and they ironically, both support my argument. Your unwillingness to answer simply questions, your arrogance, your rudeness and dismissiveness, your sanctimony and superiority--those are your true colors. And you're showing them to everyone. Please keep talking.
One last post I would like to share.  In reply to IHTB asking where you stand on adoption:
Where do I stand? The adoption industry should be shut down. It exists because selling babies is extremely lucrative. It serves itself. It doesn't care about the babies or the mothers.

One important thing to consider: There is no such thing as open adoption in this country. It is an inaccurate term that's used to falsely assure women considering relinquishment that they will always have access to their children, but by law, they'll actually have access only as long as the adoptive parents allow it. When the adoptive parents cut the first mother off, she's done. She has no legal rights. Until the first mothers' rights are equal to those of the adoptive mothers, there will be no such thing as open adoption. And that will never happen, because it simply cannot work. This is one of the issues that needs light shined on it.

A big part of adoption is about ego. It just is. I realize people don't like to admit that, and I understand why, but bottom line, it's just a fact. If the motivation truly is to love and cherish a child and give it a good life then why not offer that love and that home to kids already in the system? Why not help kids who are GENUINELY without parents, without love, without security? Those kids unfortunately exist. Why is it so important to get an infant fresh out of the oven? Why is it so important to OWN that child, to change its name and alter its birth certificate? If it's really about GIVING--if it's really selfless, if it's really about the needs of the children overriding the needs (wants) of the adults--adoption is not necessary. There is fostering, managerial conservatorship, guardianship, and other options.

Bottom line, though, all these things aside, buying children is wrong. It's wrong, and it's dirty, and the system that facilitates it is corrupt and evil, and supporting that system because it gets you what you want is despicable. Adopters can pretend they're on the side of the angels all they want, but that's just spin. They're willing to support a corrupt, profit-driven system that remorselessly damages human beings left and right for one reason: It fulfills their selfish desires.

One of the things that bothers me the most about adoption is that no one EVER seems to openly discuss that the circumstances of these young, pregnant moms is TEMPORARY. They aren't always going to be 16, 18, 20 years old. They aren't always going to be scared and overwhelmed. They aren't always going to be alone. With a little support and encouragement, they won't always be uneducated and/or broke! But no one tells them that. Caseworkers coerce them into giving away their children by making them feel as if they're inferior and irresponsible and incapable of stepping up to the job of mom. But most of them aren't. Most of these moms are no different than the moms waiting to adopt--it's just that their immediate situation is less than optimal. But that situation can--and typically does--change SO EASILY. At this point, I know dozens of original moms. With only a couple of exceptions, they all went on to marry, have careers, make money, buy homes, have stable lives. Most of them had more kids--many of them within just a year or two of relinquishing. And yet, they were told they were unfit to raise their first baby. They were not. They were capable. They were young women in a tough but TEMPORARY situation.

They got no support or encouragement, though. No one looked for solutions that would keep the families together. The moms were disparaged and bullied--and pushed to give up and give in. "You're not as mature, you're not as wealthy, you're not as educated, you're not as whatever." As if this were a permanent state--and as if adoptive parents were some magically superior species. Neither of those things were true, but no one ever admitted that. Why? Because they wanted their babies. The babies were worth a lot of money to the adoption industry. No one cared about the babies or the moms. They wanted to make money. And it's exactly the same way today. It was true when I was born, it was true when my son was born, and it's true today--and it will always be true until $$ is taken out of the equation. It really is that simple.

We need to teach sex education and family planning and make sure contraception is easily accessible.

We need to make it a criminal offense for ANY MONEY AT ALL to change hands when an adoption does occur.

We need to establish a strong system of support, education, and encouragement for moms.

And we need to make separation of mom and baby an undesirable last resort; putting the focus on keeping families together and gearing all solutions toward that goal.

If we do these four things, we can make domestic adoption the rare exception instead of the rule. There'll be fewer unwanted pregnancies, young mothers will learn to believe and trust in themselves, fewer families will be separated, and more children will remain where they belong.

What a wonderful world it would be if we could make some major changes in domestic infant adoption in the United States using these four things as a guideline!

Thanks for letting me share your writing here Renee, I consider it an honor.


Tuesday, July 24, 2012

"Why Our Birth Matters"

I found an interesting article that I thought I would share here.  The article has nothing to do with adoption, yet has everything to do with it...

If you are considering adoption for your child, or if you are a mother of a daughter facing an unexpected pregnancy, you should read this.  It is becoming more and more known that events during pregnancy and early infancy have profound effects on a person's life ~

Here is the article from Spirituality & Health Magazine:

Why Our Birth Matters



By: Paul Sutherland

Issue: 2012 July-August

Showing that our earliest moments in life matterand that we can access those memories to heal ourselves as adultshas made Barbara Findeisen a pioneer in the field of perinatal and prenatal psychology.
As the founder of the Star Foundation, Findeisen has “helped transform the lives of thousands of people,” says colleague Marti Glenn. The center’s 10-day therapeutic retreats, guided by Findeisen and her staff, have a 30-year history of helping patients accelerate healing. “You turn a corner when you’re able to do that,” Glenn says.

Now in her 80s, Findeisen was presented last year with the Thomas R. Verny Award by the Association for Prenatal and Perinatal Psychology and Health. The award recognizes her more than four decades of  studying how our minds and emotions are shaped by experiences at and before birth.
Paul Sutherland learned about the Star Foundation from an S&H colleague while urgently seeking referrals for a suicidal friend. “It was a profound experience for him and changed his life forever,” Sutherland says, “which affirmed to me how our paths intersect with people in random and mysterious waysand that sometimes the briefest of moments can change, or even save, a life.” Sutherland interviews Findeisen about her remarkable life and work.

How did you become interested in perinatal psychology?
I became a psychologist and then went to work in a clinic in Palo Alto, California. At that time in my own therapy, I had several strange, inexplicable out-of-body experiences. A profound panic came up over and over again in my sessions where I was totally terrified and shaking; I didn’t know why my body was doing this strange thing. I didn’t know why my body was trembling. I didn’t know why I was so scared. There was no container for it in my consciousness; I had no intellectual explanation.
And then it got even more confusing: I started saying things out of the depths of my unconscious, like “Don’t puncture me!” and “Let me live!” I didn’t know why this was happening. And as it unfolded, it was clear that I was having an experience from the wombwhich at the time I didn’t understand, nor did my therapist. From that point on, I went on a quest to see if there was any truth to this, because in those days there was little consciousness of prenatal psychology. 

What did you find?
Prenatal development is the most neglected source of some of the problems that show up later. Babies are being born already in a fear response. We start protecting ourselves before we’re born if the environment is toxic, if the mother is injecting too many drugs, if the baby is unwanted, if the mother gets beaten by the father and the baby gets to know the father’s voice. If there’s a trauma at that level, it gets very hidden and covered because the baby is helpless. We must find coping mechanisms to survive. Some of them are pretty disastrous, and some of them work. 
The work we do at the Star Foundation uncovers that. I see therapy as an archaeological dig to the soul. Some place within our consciousness is the memory of wholeness or divine essence. 

What is the process of getting there?  
I work with adults, but emotionally I think sometimes we’re children. I have them take a look at what were the early experiences. For instance, suppose their mother died when they were four and they were not allowed to go to the funeral, they were not allowed to grieve, nobody gave them the support to just feel. So many of us were taught not to feel when we were young. So we allow people to go back to traumatic events or even mildly traumatic events and look at the way it was: What couldn’t you say? What couldn’t you feel? Let’s redo that: Say it now. Feel it now. And then we look at how is this still showing up in your life and relationships? Perhaps you don’t want to get close to anyone because you believe they’ll die or abandon you. We take a look at how it’s manifesting in your life in a very practical way, because we all have threads that go back to the womb and childhood.

By examining these issues, can people really change?
Yes, I’ve seen it time and time again. And when we change, we hope everybody else changes, but they don’t necessarily. So how are you going to deal with going back to a partner, for instance, and you have reworked a pattern of being subservient, and all of a sudden it’s like you’re now working on being more authentic and standing up for yourself.  You cannot guarantee that the other person is going to be happy with that. When people come to groups, what comes up is, How are you going to go back and be different in a world where everything is set up for you to be the old way?
It’s not easy to go back into a life that has been habituated. For example, the way you survived as a child was being a little mouse, and all of a sudden you don’t want to be a mouse anymore. But that’s the way you learned to survive with a drunken father and a mother who is mentally ill. You just became a little mouse.  

Are we overdiagnosing or labeling?
I think diagnoses are sometimes more for the therapist than for the client. I don’t want to put people in yet another therapeutic box, as I might actually be limiting their experience. We do resonate with people. We do pick up nonverbal communications.  So I think the therapist has to really keep their mind as open and clear as possible so that they can go into the depths. 

You have a gift for making people feel safe and mirroring people, listening deeply, and this is one of the hallmarks of the staff and work at Star. How do you do this?
The first thing a therapist has to do is establish some sense of trust. One way is to explain and model that “I don’t have your answers. You do. I’m here to help you uncover the things that you’ve had to do, for good reason, that are now limiting you, and I’m here to help you discover what’s hidden within you.” I don’t know if Jung or whoever else said this, but it’s not my job to bring the light to you, but to help you lift the shade, because the light is alwaysyou might say God or whateverthe light of consciousness, it’s always there, but we live with so many shades pulled down in protection and distrust and emphasis on what’s wrong with us.  

What keeps you going?
Being able to witness over and over and over again the power that is within usthat we are not powerlessis so inspiring. But we listen to this voice in our head which denies us and says, “I want to be right all the time, I want to dominate you, I want to have more money than you do,” and that sort of stuff. But it’s all almost a coping mechanism for something underneath it. With some people, I work a lot with self-compassion. That’s not narcissism, but it’s a gentleness with yourself. So maybe you’ll never be a gourmet cook. Stop scrutinizing yourself. Stop the constant barrage of self-judgment.
I have people sometimes that have had profound spiritual experiences or real traumas and they have never talked to anybody about it, because when they did talk about it, they got ridiculed or humiliated or laughed at. And so it’s like there’s something that’s very vulnerable and very naive about some spiritual experiences we have. And so we get protective of them, because when we talk about them, we get judged. So what I like to do is give people a big space for their experience.

What is the crisis point that brings people to a place like Star?
Sometimes it’s a marriage that’s falling apart, and they want some place that’s a sanctuary, where they can drop into the issues instead of having a 50-minute hour.  Sometimes they’re in recovery for some kind of addiction, but their problems or some of their old feelings are coming up.  
And sometimes I wonder why people are coming in, because they look like they got it made. They had good childhoods and often they’re successful, but they have a sense of emptinessan internal sense of loss. And very frequently what they’ve lost is a piece of themselves. Maybe it’s the innocence of their childhood, maybe it’s their memory of wholeness, maybe it’s a real genuine inability to be intimate with somebody else, and it shows up in their relationships. Whatever it is, there’s something out of alignment within them. They feel dis-easenot necessarily physical ailments, but there’s dis-ease about something going on with them.  

How do people react to the element of spirituality as part of our personal growth? 
Some people think it’s just California woo-woo in the beginning. We are always trying to support people having their own personal experience of “soul” or put it in a frame that fits their belief system and vocabularynot what I think it should be, but whatever it is for them. And sometimes they have that “essential self” experience, the wholeness we talked about earlier. I call it “essence” or try to use energetic words. I try to present spirituality in a way that is almost secularmaybe that is an oxymoron, but it’s secular spirituality. 

Do you think our psychological development is intertwined with the spiritual?
I do. I don’t believe we end at death; I don’t believe we began at birth or at conception. There is something, whether it’s collective unconscious or soul or whatever it is. That, and the first brain that develops is the right brain, and that is the brain of the senses. And what I have just noticed often is when people get in touch with their right braintheir senses, their intuition, their smell, their touch, their seeing, their hearing, their tastingthere seems to be a balancing of the two brains that opens the person to a genuine experience of the spirit. Like washing a window and the light comes through: it’s like lifting the shade and the light is just there. We don’t have do anything to get it; it’s just addressing what has been blocked in us.

Are we always working on childhood stuff?
Neuroscience is now corroborating what I have been feeling and thinking. What happens to us in the womb and in early childhood lays out a template that influences the way we think, the way we feel about ourselves and the worldand our place in it. I don’t want to say everything has a childhood root, or a birth root, because it comes from a lot of different places. But at the right-brain level, from zero to age two, things get imprinted at a physical level, at a sensual level, in the body. I have had people come in and they have done 40 years’ worth of therapy, but they never got to the very original loss or trauma because it was not at the verbal level. That’s why the body is so important: it stores information and emotions and trauma and tells our story.
Sometimes we get people at Star who are radically one direction or the other politically, or devoutly religious to the exclusion of other religions. A lot of fundamentalism is just an extreme method of surviving or coping. They feel they are much safer in the world if they are absolutely sure they are right, and then they don’t have to deal with their own personal issues.
But when they become aware of the experiences they had at a preverbal or a very, very young level, they are the same as the person on the other end of the political spectrum or the other end of the religious spectrum. When we were traumatized by an abusive father or a mother who was distant and unavailable, it doesn’t matter who you are, a Tea Party member or a liberal Democrat. Sometimes I think if I could get everybody at that level, we would have a little bit more harmony.S&H

Monday, July 9, 2012

"All In The Family Adoption"

I continue to get hits on my blog from people searching with terms such as "my unmarried daughter is pregnant". 

There is a wonderful new blog written by one such mother.  Kellie writes about her role in her grandchild being given up for adoption.  She writes about the coercion that happened, which she was also a victim of. 

I think that her voice is an important one.  I'm glad that she is writing about her story and I hope that the people searching for advice about their own pregnant daughters find her brutally honest writings and think twice before allowing adoption to be chosen as anything other than a last-choice option for their grandchild.

Here is Kellie's own description of her blog: 

One person looking to spread the news about the tragedies of adoption. My oldest daughter got pregnant at 19. I searched a lot on the Internet about adoption before our granddaughter was born, but I didn't get the information about the grief that first mothers experience. We were totally unprepared. My daughter relinqueshed her daughter to her uncle, my husbands brother, and his wife. This is referred to as "kinship" or "relative" adoption. I want to try to inform others of the pain and grief involved in all adoptions.

I believe others need to stand up for first mothers and adoptees.   They are denied some of the basic rights that we take for granted. Those of us who love and support those who've relinquished or have been relinqueshed need to add our voice to theirs.
Go check out Kellie's blog "All In The Family Adoption".

Welcome to adoption blog-land Kellie!  You are a fabulous writer with an important viewpoint that needs to be read and known about.

On a personal note...
I can only imagine what my life might have been like if I had been able to talk to my own mom after the loss of my son to adoption.  Was she suffering as I was, as Kellie is?  What difference would it have made if I could know of my mom's own possible regret over her part in the loss of my son to adoption?  What difference would it have made to have the compassion and understanding from my mom when I was floundering through the loss of my son alone?

My mom passed away almost 10 years ago while I was still deeply entrenched in the denial.  My mother never spoke to me about the loss of my son to adoption.  I never spoke to her about it either.  I wish it was possible now...

Monday, June 25, 2012

These Words Are My Diary...

I've been discovered.  By my daughter.  I have told nobody in my real life about my writing here.  My daughter knew I was active on-line in the adoption world as I have spoken to her about some of it but I had never told her about this blog. 

In this blog I spill all the deep, dark secrets of how I came to be a mother of adoption loss.  I spill my guts here.  In real life I have never spilled it all to anyone.  Not even my husband ~ which is fairly easy because he doesn't ask about any of it, he avoids most adoption talk because he avoids the role that adoption plays in his own life.  I've only just begun in the last year or so to talk to my best friends about how deeply losing Christopher to adoption has effected my life.

My daughter told me that she had found my blog and that she had read it all.  At first I felt sick to know that she knew my deepest-darkest thoughts and feelings.  But her reaction to my writing was so positive, I soon felt relief that she had found my writings and realized that maybe my world wouldn't end if more people in my real life ever found me here. 

Last week I got a new comment on my post about deciding to go or not go to Chicago.  At first I was leery seeing the comment was from "anonymous" ~ usually it's negative replies left that way.  As I read the first words "Seriously Mom?"  I was thoroughly confused for a second.  Why would someone write a comment on here and call me mom?  Then it dawned on me that it was probably my daughter ~ and it was.  Her full comment had me laughing.

Seriously Mom? Go. Just go. What is the worst that might happen? You might cry or something? You might find yourself a little bit closer to healing? Terrible!!! Go. Go for yourself and for all those young mothers out there that don't have amazing supportive parents like I have. It will be good for you. Plus you can stay at Donna's for free and verify that her husband is a real life person and not a cat!

(To explain the last sentence ~ one of my best friends lives near Chicago, we had never met her husband over the years ~ making us jokingly wonder if he really existed)

 After getting used to the fact that my blog had been found, I've started considering telling some of my friends about it.  But I just couldn't get further than a fleeting thought of "maybe one day...".

How many people really spill their guts on their deepest-darkest feelings?  That's what I felt that my blog was ~ my diary where I spill it all.  The stories behind the loss of my son (and the feelings behind those stories) have been hidden in the dark for over 30 years.

I do tell people of my firstborn son lost to adoption now.  I think that most people in my day-to-day life know of him and his place in my life.

But the deeply personal stuff?  The stuff of diaries?  Written here, but not really spoken of...

I have been starting to let my adoption world mingle with my real-life on FaceBook.  I wasn't really prepared for the first time my blog might become a part of my real-life FB page, although I should have been I suppose...  I have to admit that I panicked, didn't approve the tag request linking to my blog.  I wrote a quick email to my daughter telling her what happened and that I wasn't sure how to feel/react/not react.  Here is her reply:
I do want to say, while you have come an amazing far way, maybe this is the universe pushing you to the next step in your journey. I know your feelings and opinions about adoption are personal to you and you keep them separate from your private life, but I hope that's a genuine choice and not one driven by fear. Fear of others with differing opinions disagreeing and therefore judging you, fear of letting people in real life know you (gasp) stand firm on a big issue. 

I started to reply to her that it wasn't my opinions on adoption that I was fearful of, it was fear of everyone reading my deeply personal feelings and thoughts.  In replying that, it dawned on me.  Was what I wrote really too terribly personal, too terribly private and deep?  Or was it that I just felt as though it was too deeply personal? Did it only seem to be so horribly "deep" because of the decades spent being silent on anything related to the loss of my son to adoption? 

So I spent the next couple of nights going back and reading my old posts.  Yes, some of my writing in the beginning was the personal details of how I came to be a mother of adoption loss.  But the majority of what I write here is far from personal.  It's mostly my thoughts and opinions on adoption that I am more than comfortable speaking out about now.

I spent so many years, three decades actually, hiding my truth from everyone in my life that speaking out at all about adoption felt so deeply personal.

In reality it isn't.

I'm still not too sure about letting people in my real life know about my blog. 

But the idea is a little less frightening now.

Although... a soundtrack plays in the back of my head ~
I'm hearing these words from one of my favorite songs:

"2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to.

And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud"

Thursday, June 14, 2012

"The Strings of Life"

I stumbled onto the writing of Dabeshim a couple of days ago.  One of his poems caught me from the very first stanza.  I again am amazed at how the words of someone adopted can be so meaningful to me as a mother of adoption loss.  Below is the poem, interspersed with my own rambling thoughts brought to mind as I read the words. 


There once was a day
The winds were cold, darkness creped as far
As the inside, It had its say
We did as others wished
Serving them on a golden dish.
We knew no other way.
Like marionettes we lived,
Upon the Strings of Life.
Giving no thought at all.


The Florence Crittenton building was a big, old brick building. Dark. Cold. Always. Not the temperature, it was the atmosphere in that building…

I did only as they wished. As society expected of me. I made sure to let them all know that I wasn’t “one of those girls”. I really was a good girl, not a crack-whore. I really did love my baby, I really only wanted the best for him ~ It wasn’t at all that I didn’t want to be a mom, it wasn’t that I wanted to have a life full of fun instead of responsibility. I proved that I really did love my baby, loved him even more than I loved myself. I served my son up to the adoption industry on a golden dish…

What a good marionette I was, right in line being the good birthmother without any further convincing necessary. I already knew that there was no way I would raise a child in the way I was living. I knew that the only way I would be able to raise my child would be to move out of the house, and that would have been impossible on my own. I gave no thought towards the future, only to finishing what I had started by becoming pregnant while unmarried and young. No thought was given to what it would actually be like to give birth to my child, much less live without him. No thought was given to the fact that I couldn’t really ensure that my child would have a better life. No thought was given to what an adoptees life was like, how their life was affected by adoption. I was just following along with what was expected of me, like a marionette I lived…

I returned to school that fall unable to really be myself. I was sure that any classmates who knew of my pregnancy thought of me as either the classic whore or as a heartless person who gave her child away. I never breathed a word of my son to anyone afterwards, losing the freedom to be myself. Always fearful that someone would find out the truth. In addition, without even realizing it, my heart was locked up tight in order to not fully feel the loss of my son. How heavy was the weight of that prison I imposed on myself…

For our own freedom, our own call.
Now after so many years
I awoke to see that the power to live is
In you and in me.
We could be
Light as the air
With the wind through your hair

Free to move, here and there.
There and here, everywhere.
Now that we are no longer tied to the loom.
We can go from room to room.
We are Free at last,
no more strings of life to hold us down,
making us like clowns


In the moment of reading the first emails telling me that my son was looking for me, I awoke. I awoke from 30 years of denial and felt the power, the freedom, of living in my truth. I felt as light as air ~ the weight of that self-imposed prison was lifted. Once I had the chance to bask in the joy and treasure this new life that now included my first born son, I wanted to share the news with everyone. Christopher himself told me that I could go stand on the sandhills of Nebraska and yell the news out to the world. I was no longer tied to the loom that was labeled birthmother. The loom of shame. Shame that wasn’t mine to take on, but that I willingly accepted from the judgment of our society. The loom of despair and grief from the loss of my son ~ loss that I wasn’t even allowed to speak of. Loss that nobody in society sees, much less understands to have any empathy for. (Except for the others who live with the loss of adoption that is)

In talking to the search angel who matched our profiles, I felt as though I had beaten the system. Even though deep down I knew it wasn't true, the remnants of former beliefs were still there. I had believed the social worker when she told me it would be against the law to ever look for my son. Taking on that lie, it tied me further to the loom of adoption loss. Now here I was, being told by an angel named Kim that my son had been searching for me for a while, was very excited and waiting to finally hear from me. Just as I had been tied to the loom of adoption, so had he. In the finding, we were both freed from the looms, we were free to go from the room of secrecy into the room of truth.

The past is the in the past
None of that matter anymore
Yesterday is out the door
Let’s make the most of now
Since time doesn’t last

We made our own many mistakes
Sacrificed the best of ourselves at the stake
Yet we are free now to move every which way
To say what we want to say
no more strings of life to tie us down
making us look just  like clowns


Yes ~ the past is in the past. I can’t get back those lost years with Christopher. I made my mistakes. Many mistakes were made in the years after I lost Christopher to adoption. My biggest wish is that I had been strong enough to live my truth, instead of hiding from it.  For I wasn't really hiding from it.  It was always there, just under the surface, just out of reach of my conscious being.  I not only sacrificed my son, I sacrificed my authentic self. Being silent after the loss of my son to adoption only allowed the myths to continue. Being silent gave the impression that losing my son to adoption was ok. Being silent kept the tremendous loss and grief hidden. Did another mother go on to choose adoption because she saw that my life did seem to go on as before after losing my son to adoption? I will never know. But I do feel that I fed the adoption industry with my silence. The strings tying me down are gone, I am free now to speak of my experience. I am free to speak of the child, now a grown man, forever lost to adoption. There are no self or society imposed strings keeping me silent now. I speak out of the truth of adoption loss on my life. I speak out not because it can change anything for us ~ but maybe I can change something for another mother, for the children of that mother. I speak out now to help another living with the loss of adoption to free themselves from their own loom, to no longer be a marionette of the adoption industry.



We are as light as the air
With the wind through your hair
We have no more cares
That will hold us and keep us,
From ourselves,
like marionettes up on the shelves.

Oh you must believe me!
Oh can you see me?
Can you hear this song I sing?
It brings me here to you!

The strings of life have all disappeared
The strife we lived, sheared and blown away
We are free now to move every which way
To say what we want to say
no more strings of life to tie us down
lifting us high above the ground

We are free now to just be. The strings of adoption no longer control us as though we are only marionettes. I am his mother, he is my son. I love Christopher no less than the children I raised. The strings of adoption could take away my legal rights, but could never take away my love for him.

Oh come with me
And Fly! You will see
The music is playing, the choir is saying
We are Light as the air
The wind through your hair
Free to move, here and there.
There and here, everywhere.
With no more ties
Gone are The Strings of Life.

………………………………

© 2012 Dabeshim

Thank you for sharing these beautiful, yet haunting, words Dabeshim. Thank you for allowing me to ramble on and write of how the words touched my heart.