Teleflora's Commercial Tribute to Young, Single Mothers

While wasting time on Facebook the other night, I kept seeing a link that several different friends had  posted about a Teleflora commercial that had left them in tears. 

It left me in tears too.  But for reasons unlike my friends.  Especially during this month of May, that includes not only Mother's Day, but also Christopher's birthday.

What a kick in the gut.

This wonderful son, grown up and serving in the military.  Who had been born to a single mom who gave up her dreams of becoming a professional athlete after finding herself pregnant with him.

This wonderful son, who praised all the sacrifices his mom had made for him. This wonderful son, who praised all the amazing things he was able to accomplish because of the love that he had from his mom.

While I try to not play the "What If" Game, I found myself also in tears ~ wondering what my life, what my son's life, might have been like if I had raised him instead of losing him to adoption.

I have not one single doubt that I would have been a wonderful mother to Christopher.  I had taken care of many children from the time I was twelve years old ~ I was a regular babysitter for several families in my neighborhood.  One of the families was so secure with my ability and maturity that by the age of 14 I was watching their two children overnight while the parents were out of town for the weekend.

I have no doubt that I would have been a better mother to my raised kids also ~ I would not have been parenting with the unaddressed trauma of losing my firstborn child to adoption.  I would have been a better wife and daughter, better to myself.

So.  Enough with that game of "What If"  ~ It gets you nowhere and only ends in grief and anger.

While this commercial was a kick in the gut to me, I hope that any unmarried mothers-to-be who watch it gain strength from it.  If you are young and/or unmarried and facing an unexpected pregnancy, being a great mom IS possible, despite all that the adoption industry and the seemingly perfect prospective adoptive parents want you to believe.

A Light Through The Darkness of Adoption Loss

Artwork from Ordinary Courage

I know I've been quiet lately.  I have been focusing on the good in my life, making brighter my "light from within".

I am so thankful for everyone and everything that has helped me find that light after being lost in the dark of adoption loss for so very, very long. 

The one who has made the biggest difference in my life at this stage is Christopher's mom.  I cannot put into words how much brighter my world became by meeting and being fully accepted by her. 

Lately in adopto-land there has been much written about adoptive parents keeping the natural mothers and families away from their children (infants to adults).  If they could only know, if only some would care, what a difference they could make in the loss and grief felt by those who lose loved-ones in adoption. 

A mother of adoption loss has no idea what life is actually going to be like without her child.  It should be expected that the moms are going to have a hard time, that she's going to be grieving.  That grief should not scare away the adoptive parents. 

I would hope that it would have them instead showing some compassion.  

I would hope that it would have the adoptive parents wanting to help ease the moms heart and mind.  Instead, I see so many cases where the adoptive family turns their back on the mother turning the blame back onto that mother.  They tell themselves and others that the mother wasn't "going on with her life" or some such crap.  They excuse away the true reasons they are uncomfortable in the face of the grief. 

By turning away from the mother (and father, siblings, extended family), they are only adding to the grief and loss.  Nothing will take away the grief, but many things will certainly add to it!  A letter, a note, some photos and/or videos, promised visits can go so far in helping a mother cope with the grief and loss of a child to adoption.  Keeping communication open will help her find acceptance and help her see that her child has loving parents who only want the best for the child.

One of my on-line friends has been shut out of her child's life.  The adoptive parents have pulled far away from the open adoption that was promised.  Leaving a mother, father, and sibling heart-broken.  Yes, the adoptive familiy would have to face the grief of this left-behind family ~ but in facing the grief they could relieve a lot of it too.  I just can't imagine being the kind of person who couldn't open my heart to help another out of their grief.  A small act by the adoptive family could have an enormous effect on the family left behind.  How can they deny that?  I will never understand. 

Not only is an adoptive family hurting the natural family left behind, they are hurting the very child they claim to love. 

The denial of adoptive parents does not take away the importance of or the need of those adopted to know their first chapter.  It only builds upon the loss and makes it even greater. 

If you have adopted or are planning on adopting and 

won't understand and honor the place of the 

natural family in your child's life ~ then please don't adopt. 

It's pretty simple really.  I don't understand what is so hard about it.  A child doesn't just appear out of nowhere.  A child is born to a mother, created by that mother and a father.  The story behind the conception and/or birth doesn't matter ~ the story doesn't change the simple fact that a child is born to two people and their families (past, present, and future). 

A child being given up for adoption and adopted by another family doesn't take away their first, biological, natural family ~ it only adds more family. 

If you have or are planning on adopting and you can't accept the fact that your child has another family, then you aren't offering your child unconditional love.  You are putting conditions on their very existence. 

As adoptive parents, you have the ability to make the choice for adoption either bearable or something that breaks a person.  

I am so very happy and thankful that Christopher got a mother and father who adopted out of love.  They never denied their daughter and son their beginnings.  They never denied my relationship with our son.  I was accepted into open arms and with a loving heart.  By openly accepting me as a part of their son's life, they have showed me love.  Love that allowed the light within me to grow stronger. 

The light of their love and acceptance of me shines brightly 

through the darkness of the loss of my son to adoption.  

I wish all mothers of adoption loss could know that love and acceptance. 

I wish that all adoptive parents would act out of love and not fear.  

For their own sake, for the natural families and for their adopted loved ones. 

Letting Go

From this quote at the very beginning of the blog post on Metta Drum, I was intrigued...

We only become what we are by the radical and deep-seated refusal of that which others have made of us.

Jean-Paul Sartre

The following is my rambling brain trying to talk my way through the meaning of Daniel's post (which is in the brown all-caps text) in regards to my life.   This post is just a rambling mess, as are my thoughts...

Lately I've been exploring this idea of transformation as letting go. Letting go of what I no longer resonate with, and nurturing the deeper "me" underneath all that, instead of trying to patch myself up in an attempt to become something new and improved. 

I did let go of that confused, scared, all-alone-in-the-world 15 year old girl who had to give her son up for adoption.

Now I want to let go the wanting more.  I know that there IS no more to be had.  In order to have the more that my heart and soul search for, I would have had to raised my son. In order to have more, my son would also want to have more.

I want to let go of the hurt.  Is there a way to heal the hurts of losing a child to adoption?  Not to just accept it, but to heal it?

I feel that I am a new and improved version of myself ~ having come out of the adoption closet, out of the denial, I've gotten rid of the false beliefs.  But is there more than that?  Can I get to the deeper “me” underneath all of that?

Scraping the layers of paint and dirt off of the mirror, so to speak.

I think we lose sight of who we are when we find ourselves identifying with the paint and the dirt. We think all those layers of "stuff" define us, and then we feel defective. So we try to become less of this, and more of that.

In this way, we continually create a distorted, unsatisfying sense of Self.

You won't find any long-term solutions in the less of this, more of that approach. Instead, consider the idea that the You you've been searching for is already present within you, just waiting for conscious connection. Let go of the idea that you need fixing, because deep down, you aren't really broken. 

Am I really not broken?  I'm Christopher's mother ~ I gave birth to him.  Yet I didn't raise him.  Yet my heart and soul feel him as my son.  Yet...  It's an endless circle.

The truth of the matter is that I gave birth to a son who is not in my life as my soul yearns for him to be.  Is the conscious connection that needs to be made just the "knowing" that I am indeed a mother to my firstborn child?  That I'm not just a "birthmother"  (God, I HATE that word!)  I think I have scraped some of the layers off ~ I no longer look at myself as a "birthmother", I now know that I was always much more than the egg donor and incubator I believed I was.

Is it that the me I've been searching for is already present in me ~ just the knowledge and belief that I am and was always his mother, despite signing those damn papers?

Is the idea that  I need Christopher to truly be a part of my life in order to be "fixed" a false idea?  In writing out all of my pondering here, the answer to that is yes.  In the creating and giving birth to him I am his mother.  No, not in the way that I wish with all of my heart that I could have been, but signing a piece of paper didn't unbirth him from me.  It didn't take away my motherhood, it took away my parenthood.

You've only taken on layers of concepts, habits and dogmas that aren't serving you, and certain basic needs have gone unmet for awhile.

So begin to strip away those layers that you've built up over the course of your lifetime and discover the truth of who you are.

While I know I am so much more than a mother who lost her son to adoption, it is the biggest part of me.  Isn’t it?  I feel that it is.  It effects everything I do, everything I think, everything I am…

For example: Instead of trying to be less argumentative and more understanding of the viewpoints of others, simply let go of the need to always be right, the need to win. Underneath that, you may discover a fear that you aren't being heard, a fear of being invisible and unimportant. This fear may reveal the need for a very specific type of self-love — and once you understand where nurturing and healing are needed, you can begin your work of letting go at the source.

In being less argumentative and more understanding of the viewpoints of others in adoption, should I let go of the need to speak out of the truth of adoption loss for the mothers and adoptees?  To me it doesn’t feel like a need to always be right, it feels as though it’s a truth that needs to be told and understood.

I DO fear that I’m not being heard.  I do have the fear of being invisible and unimportant.  It’s not really a fear though...  I feel that it’s just the truth.  As far as being a mother of adoption loss, we are not listened to.  The loss that I live with every minute of every day is unimportant to anyone who believes or needs to believe in the institution of adoption.  The rainbows and sunshine of adoption are so prevalent, so deeply engrained in everything/everyone.  Except those who live with the loss of adoption.

I will admit that I do have a fear of being invisible and unimportant ~ To Christopher.  So what does that fear reveal?  What kind of self-love is even possible to overcome that?  Where do I let in the nurturing and healing for that?  What is the source of that?  How do I begin the work of letting go at the source if the source is the very soul of me, of my motherhood?

That's just one example, but it illustrates the process of letting go of the outermost layers of "stuff" and revealing the deeper issues underneath, where you can discover your root needs and begin to nurture them. This is where true healing and transformation take place. This is where your higher Self is waiting to emerge.

My root needs...  to have my son in my life.  Which he is.  Kinda.  I know where he is.  I know of his life.  And I am so very thankful for that.

The problem there is that my heart, soul, and every cell of my body feels for him as a son.  No differently than the sons I raised.  I didn't raise Christopher though...  so our relationship is...  less than?  Less than I want it to be, less than I need it to be.  Maybe that's what I have to finally accept?  That it will never, can never be, what I want/need it to be? To be completely honest with myself, right now I don't even know if what we have now is a relationship at all...

This will not be a comfortable process. You may stir up some scary, negative stuff. You may experience some very unpleasant awakenings that shake you to your core. But on the other side of this discomfort and this work, enlightenment and healing are possible. 

I have never really grieved the loss of my son.  I live with the grief, but I haven't experienced the grief.  I'm scared to allow myself to face it.  That deep, dark hole of despair.  As I referred to in another post, I'm scared of facing it because I'm scared that I won't be able to come out of it.  I fear that it's going to envelope me completely instead of just chewing me up and spitting me out. 

It won't be easy, no. But it will be worth it.

Begin the process of letting go of what you are not, and uncovering your neglected/abandoned needs. Nurture and clarify your true Self in this way. The process of transformation is really a process of discovery and refinement of who you truly are.

Today, you are not asked to change in order to become a better version of yourself. You are free to simply let go of what isn’t You. Free to let go of what isn’t magnificent and beautiful. Free to delight in the nakedness of You. The beauty and excellence of You. The fullness of You. 

Let go of what isn't me...  Let go of what isn't magnificent and beautiful...  Writing and contemplating on this entire post, I come up with two things that I need to let go of. 

The grief and loss that are trapped inside of me, unable to be expressed. 

The expectations of having "more" with Christopher. 

What if in finally allowing myself to acknowledge, feel, and express the deeply buried grief I sink into the despair, never to find my way out of the depths?
How do I let go of Christopher?  Again?  This silence is killing me.  Because I am wanting more.  So, do I just accept that there is nothing more to have, walk away and hope that one day he will again come into my life?  Do I just let go and let God?  Just as before when I went back to my life before I gave birth and gave away my first born son?  Shall I now just try to go back to my life before reading those emails on January 16th 3 years ago?  Walking away from my son again?  Is it walking away if he doesn't want me to be a part of his life? 

I thought that working through this post of Daniel's, it could help me work through some of my confusion.  I'm still confused...  Do I write Christopher a letter asking him what he wants out of this relationship?  Do I force a visit on him to discuss it in person?  Do I just go into silence as he has? 

Do I walk away from all things adoption?  The forum, the blogs...   In order to try to get back to life before reunion, I would have to.  To accept my life without keeping that adoption wound open, I would have to.  Or not?  Even if I don't keep picking at that scab, will it ever heal? 

Missing Him

So Blue Missing You

I miss Christopher....

I want so badly to see him again. I want to hear his voice. I want to hear his laughter. I want to simply just watch him be.

No.  That's not entirely the truth...

It's more than a want.  My heart and my soul needs to see him, to hear him, to just be with him...

I dream of spending time with him.  Of talking to him simply as mother and son.  Not as two people dancing around the years lost, around unknown boundaries, dancing around the fear of words said and unsaid. 

I don't know what has triggered this. These last few days I have been overwhelmed with it.  I miss my son with all of my being...

Maybe it is brought on by the passing of time.  Or by his continued silence.  Although when he does write he seems to write "deeper" than he used to...    I haven't seen him since last April.  Almost a year ago.  Which is more than many of you have had with your loved ones lost to adoption, I know.

But.

I still miss him...

Pit of Despair

The comment left by Suz on my last post has reminded me of something.  Suz said about the emotions of losing her child to adoption:

I am TERRIFIED of their power. I am afraid if I really let them out, really cried, the weak hold I have on reality would be gone for ever.

Last year as I was trying to work through yet another layer of adoption loss, I was finding myself terrified of the deep grief I was beginning to acknowledge.  It was so deep, so...  all-consuming.  I was at a loss of how to even describe it.  One day I was reading a post over at Suz's blog "Writing My Wrongs",  where she described being at an adoption-related conference and finding herself being swept down into a pit of despair, and thankfully someone behind her noticed her distress and put their hand on her shoulder, helping pull her back to reality.  (I tried to go find that post, but kept finding myself lost in reading other old posts of hers and losing track of time so I gave up.  If somehow you don't know Suz's blog, you need to check it out!) 

I so clearly remember reading her words about the fear of that pit of despair, and it was as though I was reading an exact description of the fear I hadn't been able to put words to. That fear of falling into the depths of my grief became very overwhelming last fall, it was with me constantly.  (Brought on I'm sure by the beautiful October day that I finally got to meet Christopher in person.) 

I don't know what the point to this post is, I guess I just found myself lost in the remembering about the deep fear of losing myself to the grief.  It's still there ~ the fear of falling into that pit.  Somehow I was able to bury it again, to not be overwhelmed with it.  I wish I could find somebody who could help me safely face an express the grief.  I feel as Suz speaks of in her comment:

Its a safety mechanism for me. A protection of my mind and soul and life I live today. In saying that I realize that approach has an effect on this life, but negatively effecting my life and still living is better than not living at all. I hope that some day I can truly get through it all, somehow, someway, with a safe person that I can be confident will get me through the agony and pull me out to the other side. Until that day comes, it stays in side and seeps out every now and then.

So maybe I need to stop thinking of my inability to cry as something wrong, and think of it as something keeping me safe until I am able to face those deep emotions.  Now if only I could find a way to do that...


Susie