Birthmother's Day... Is Nothing to Celebrate

Today I will not be celebrating "Birthmother's Day".  I have never celebrated the fact that I am a birthmother.  (I also don't care for that title, but that's an entire post in itself.)

I have been working on this post for days.  I have written and re-written and erased more paragraphs than I can remember. 

Instead I'm just going to link to others who have written what I want to say, but can't find the words.

Cassie again speaks the words of my heart and soul when it comes to adoption loss.  If you haven't already read her post "Here We Go Again", you should go read it.  Be sure to read the comments too, they are as important as the post.  They are proof of the deep seated lies in societies beliefs about adoption.  They are proof that the adoption industry has been successful in their multi-million dollar research on how to turn a tragedy (a mother and child, a family, being separated) into something that is viewed as a "loving" action.

Lorraine has two posts about this.  The comments on the first post lead to the second post. 

Amanda writes about Birthmother's Day from an adoptees perspective.

My favorite post declares "Screw Birthmother's Day!".  And Claud is doing that in high style ~ with all three of her children being together for the day. 

I should leave this post on the high note of Claud's post.  However, this last link shows the true pain of adoption loss and the belief by many that because a mother has given a child up for adoption she is no longer a mother.  The adoption industry and this so-called day of celebration kills the heart and soul of many mothers.  Those who believe that it takes more than biology to make a mother are responsible for this young woman's heartache.  My heart breaks for Candace.  I pray that she will one day be able to say that even though she is not parenting her beloved son, she is still one of his mothers.  She is his first mother.  Without her, he would not be. 

To everyone living without a child because of adoption ~

You are a part of your child

Your child is a part of you

Your child is OF you

Happy Mother's Day

I Am Complete...

I met my son on Saturday!  It  had been 11,456 days since the first and only time I saw him when he was just 3 weeks old.  I spent a glorious hour with him, it was just the two of us. 

I was traveling east for a quilt expo, while he was traveling west to get some supplies for his new kiln.  We were going to be only an hour apart from each other for the day.  I suggested meeting for dinner, before each of us had to head back to our homes, since we were going to be so close.  His first response to that suggestion was that it probably wouldn't work.  Then on Friday he emailed me that he would text me Saturday afternoon if it looked like the timing would work.

Saturday afternoon I got the text that he could make it work, that we could meet on one condition ~ I could not cry!  I didn't think it would be a problem, as I have been unable to cry for years ~ a benefit of living in deep denial for decades, denying my feelings.  And from growing up in a hateful house where feelings weren't cared about anyways.  I am great at acting like everything is great when in actuality I am falling apart.

We met, appropriately enough, at a town off the interstate with a huge smiley-face water tower.  My smile was about as big from the minute I read his text.  I was so excited to finally be able to see, touch, hold, and smell my son again.

I got there early, I wanted to be the first to arrive.  I found a place to park near the back of the lot, where nobody else was parked.  I was so nervous while waiting.  Could I pull off not crying?  Every vehicle that pulled into the lot made my stomach jump.  Would it be uncomfortable?  Awkward?  What do I need to steer the conversation away from in order to keep my no-crying promise?

30 minutes later, I see his truck pull off the road, and head towards me.  Time stopped.  He parked next to me, we got out of our vehicles, he walks towards me, hands out saying "this first hug is going to be a dirty one!".  I told him I didn't care.  That hug was truly the best one I have ever, or will ever get!! 

We talked and laughed for an hour.  We talked about meeting again, this time with his family. At one point in our conversation, I commented that he was spoiled by his parents.  He looked kind of embarrassed and replied yeah, he was.  I simply smiled and said "good!".  I am so happy that he has wonderful parents, who spoiled him when I could not. 

There was not a single uncomfortable moment.  It felt so... right.  I could not quit staring at him, looking into his eyes, seeing my little boy.  He is beautiful, inside & out. 

I did not cry, I only felt overwhelming happiness and fullness. 

One thing I fully was taken by surprise over, was not expecting, had not thought about.  When it came time to leave, we were both in our vehicles.  I could not drive away.  I could not leave him again.  He was going to have to do the leaving this time.  I waited for him to pull out of the parking lot.  He looked at me, let me know he was waiting for me.  I was just getting ready to sign for him to roll his window down, when he gave me a huge smile and a wave and drove away.  I followed behind him to the interstate, he headed east, I headed west. 


Our journey has come full circle.  I truly feel (and hope and pray) that we will continue to move forward, along with his wife & kids, the siblings he didn't grow up with, our extended families. 

A friend sent me a text not long after I was back on the road.  She wanted to know how I was doing.  I replied:   I am fine.  I am... complete. 

Neurotic Worries..

I really get nervous that somehow my son will find this blog.

I try to not write anything about his life, as it is not my place to tell his story, so that's not what I worry about.  What I worry about is him taking any of my garbage onto himself.  Or him thinking that I am in reality a "bitter birthmom" that he wants nothing to do with.  I already think that a lot of what he says/doesn't say is just because he is really a nice guy & doesn't want to hurt me. 

I am so much more than a first mom.  This blog is just my place to vent about that part of my life.  My place to try to come to terms with all of it.  I started this blog to speak out my truth.  To "cancel out" one of the happy-happy-birthmom blogs that I see more and more of out here in blog-land. 

I just can't help but worry that if Christopher finds this blog, it will scare him away.  Because the neurotic 15 year-old in me worries about that often. 

Coming Out Of The Fog

I started a draft of this post a week or more ago, but I couldn't find the words to say what I really wanted to.  I will never get my thoughts out as well as Cassi does in this post that inspired me to come back & give it another try.  It never ceases to amaze me when I find other first moms that speak the words of my heart.  Sadly, it appears that most first moms share much of the same story...

In the  first 6 weeks or so after reunion, I was so extremely happy.  I felt like a different person.  I truly have never in my life felt so... complete and at peace.  

This sounds really corny,  but at times it felt as though my heart would burst open with love.  I felt more love for my husband, my raised kids, everybody.  It was like the door that I had closed that afternoon at the hospital was swung wide open and torn off the hinges.  It was during those first few weeks that I realized how much I had shut down my emotions, how much I had closed myself off.  

I was amazed that people didn't ask why I was so different.  Didn't ask why I was so happy.  A few of my close friends did notice, but I thought it had to seem obvious to everyone how different I was.  During the first couple of months into reunion I also lost 20 pounds ~ effortlessly.  

I had such a turn-around of so many beliefs I had held in the almost 30 years since giving Christopher up.  I never really allowed myself to think of him as my son.  He was the baby I couldn't raise.  I loved him & missed him always, but had never allowed myself to be his "mom", never allowed him to be my son.  

Before reunion, I truly felt as though I was simply an egg donor and an incubator.  I was just a birthmother (although I have never liked that name).  I didn't know or understand why that name bothered me, but it did.  

At first, when reunion was new, I worried about what Christopher's parents thought.  I felt that if I was starting to come between him and his parents in any way that I would have to back off our reunion.  I didn't want to come between Christopher and his parents.  I felt like I was the outsider who had no rights to interfere in their family.  

Before reunion, probably even a few weeks into reunion, I held the belief that young moms should give their children up for adoption in order to give the child a chance at a better life with parents that were ready & able to be parents.  It saddened me to see young moms keep their babies, thinking that they were being selfish and not putting the babies best interest first.  (I did not ever promote adoption, as I wanted nobody else to have to know the pain & loss that I did.)  

I held the belief that I was stupid.  Stupid for having allowed things to go too far & becoming pregnant that first time.  Stupid for having to give my baby up for adoption.   

About six or seven weeks into reunion, I started to have thoughts and feelings that contradicted everything I had believed for almost 30 years.  

~ I realized that the love I felt for Christopher was no different than the love I felt for my raised children.  I started thinking of myself as Christopher's mom.  Completely.  
~ I started to think that it didn't matter what Christopher's parents thought about our reunion.  Reunion was between him and I.  Nobody else.  
~ I realized that I was not stupid.  I did the best I could as a 15 year old with nobody looking out for my best interest.  
~ I realized that the reason I hated the term birthmother was because it belittled who I was in my son's life.  I did not stop being his mother at birth ~ I would always be his mother.  
~ I started to become heartbroken at the thought of young moms giving their children up for adoption.  Knowing how their life is forever altered, forever broken, without their child.  I realized how strong & important the mother/child bond is.  I realized it is something to be treasured & cared for, not torn apart.  Not only for the mother, but also for the child. 
 
When I first started having these realizations, I wondered what was wrong with me.  Why was I suddenly feeling so angry about everything?  What was wrong with me??  Was I finally losing my mind??

Thank God for cyber-space!  I found blogs & a forum where other first moms spoke of the same feelings.  I was not going crazy!  Everything I was feeling was "normal".  

I realized just how deep my denial went.  I realized that in order to be able to go on with life, my mind went into "safety" mode.  I truly believe that if I had faced just how deep the grief over the loss of my son to adoption went, I could not have survived the first few years.  I would have become one of the statistics of first moms that become alcoholics, drug addicts, or suicide victims.  

The last 20 months have been very hard, so very wonderful, but so very difficult.  I am a grown woman, and it has been life changing.  I cannot imagine how my 15 year old self, with nobody to help through the reality of adoptions effects, could have survived loss so great without going into denial. 


I still have a lot of work to do as far as healing my heart & soul from the loss of my son, from the years lived in denial.  I know I need to find somebody to talk to, I need some counseling to help me get through this.  To find strength and believe in myself after living so many years feeling "not good enough" to be my son's mother.  Sadly, there is nobody in my area that helps with adoption loss.  My one attempt, about the time I started realizing the truth about my loss, was a complete waste of time.  The details of that one session will probably become a blog post someday.

Since reunion, adoption is on my mind almost 24/7.  I cannot concentrate on anything to save my life.  I am so distracted at work, at home.  I used to read books all the time.  I can't read anything longer than a magazine article anymore.  I have gained back the 20 pounds, plus another 20, in the last 18 months.  My house is a mess.  I don't even enjoy things I used to.  I love quilting.  Now I can't even force myself to finish several projects I have in various states of being done.  It has been months since I've turned on my sewing machine. 

There have been many times I almost found myself wanting to go back into the fog, into the denial.  In so many ways it would be easier.  But I refuse to live a lie any longer.  I refuse to hide the love I have for my son again.  It would kill me to live another day of not knowing where Christopher is or how he and his family are doing.  The great joys of knowing my son far outweigh the hard work that reunion has brought into my life. 


I am so glad that I have been able to begin shedding all the lies and untruths about myself, about adoptions effects on my life.  I am so glad that I found all the other first moms on-line that have helped me begin to find myself again.