For so long I kept silent.
As I thought I was expected to do in those days.
My motherhood, my first born son, was only spoken of a handful of times in the almost 30 years between the time he was born till the day I read those first emails four years ago.
I kept silent.
Out of doing what I thought was the right thing. Out of fear. Out of shame ~ shame of first becoming pregnant, then shame of giving my own child away.
Not that I knew how to put into words what I had gone through anyways. Nor did I have anyone care enough to ask me about it ~ while going through it all nor afterwards ~ so I had no reason to speak of any of it. Oh, maybe they cared, but didn't know how or whether to bring it up.
As is usually the case ~ when you close off one thing, you are actually closing off much more.
Through fear of speaking about my motherhood or my child, I soon became afraid to speak my own opinions and thoughts on most things.
I said what others wanted to hear. What I thought I needed to say (and do) to prove that I really was a "good girl" despite the fact that I had gotten pregnant and given my child up. I also lost my voice from fear of saying something "stupid" or wrong. I can't blame that one on adoption though...
I said what others wanted to hear. What I thought I needed to say (and do) to prove that I really was a "good girl" despite the fact that I had gotten pregnant and given my child up. I also lost my voice from fear of saying something "stupid" or wrong. I can't blame that one on adoption though...
I hadn't even realized that I lost my voice until after reunion with Christopher.
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All of the above has been sitting as a draft for quite a while... Two things have happened in the last couple of days to bring me back to it.
First ~ a couple of days ago in a private fb message the subject of what to call ones biological parents came up. In my reply to that question, I wrote of why I don't want the title "birthmother" to be used for myself. After I sent the reply, I felt bad that I had gone off on a rant to this person. I apologized for it the next day, was told that it was ok & not a big deal but I still felt bad about it.
Then today I read a blog post "on the power of our voices" by the wonderful artist kelly rae.
Reading her post brought me a few "a ha" moments.
* I wasn't ranting in that fb message. I was simply speaking my opinion.
* I didn't just lose my voice. I gave it away.
* I didn't just give away my voice, I gave away my power.
I had spent so many years, decades, hiding my voice that what I felt was ranting was simply stating my stance on an issue. And that's a good thing!
It was simply taking power over a piece of my life as a mother without her child.
Speaking out in that message was nothing to be ashamed of, rather it was something that has been a long time coming. Me taking back my voice. Taking back power over my own life, my own story.
In her post today, Kelly writes:
Our voices are precious. Beautiful. Important. And they change the world.
May you be careful with yours. Be fierce around protecting it, nurturing it, and celebrating it, always.
I will. I will now stand stronger in my story, in my life, in the power of my voice.
If you haven't read Kelly's post yet, please take time to do that. There was so much that I wanted to share here, so much that could have been written by/for me, it was almost her entire post! So much of what she writes in this post is important for all of us who live with adoption loss. We need each others voices, adoption reform needs our voices!!
