If I’d Been Smarter or Loved More…
Posted: July 26, 2007 at 3:48 pmFrom The Secret Life of Bees (which is finished and a MUST. READ.):
I wish she’d been smart enough, or loving enough, to realize everybody has burdens that crush them, only they don’t give up their children.
Ouch, right? Yes, I felt the sting. In fact, I had to set the book down, get a glass of water and retreat to my back yard thinking spot. I think I cried a little. Words like that only sting when they’re true or have some semblance of truth… or when you know that, like the teeanged girl in the book, your own daughter could view her own adoption in the very same manner. While it may not be true in action on your part, the realization that you could hear those words from a girl that you love so very much is … daunting.
I have a post going up on Monday at the birth/first parent blog (I wrote IT first instead of having to stop a mid-stream thought over here to go write over there). However, I’m curious as to how this quote affects other birth parents, adoptees or adoptive parents. What does it make you feel? What does it make you think? How does it hit at your core? Have you had this conversation with your placed child already? How did it go? How did they respond to your answer? How did you phrase your answer? If you haven’t yet had this kind of conversation, are you mentally preparing for it? Or mentally avoiding it? Reasons as to why? Adoptees: have you felt like this? Why? How did feeling like this affect your feelings towards your birth mother/father? How did you deal with those feelings? Adoptive parents: have you had to field a question like this from your child about his/her biological parents? How did that go? How did it leave you feeling? If you haven’t, are you preparing for something like this?
I’d like to do a follow up post (as mine is mostly personal) on the bp/fp blog with words from all three sides of the triad. You can comment here or write something in your own blog and I’ll link you while quoting.
The sentence really moved me. (As did a few others that I’ll be talking about over time.) The book itself is not even about adoption in the way we understand it (and! wow! did I learn a LOT about bees!) but so many of the themes (anger, grief, loss) resonate to the very core of adoption (and many other life issues, really). I was just flabbergasted by the way certain words, sentences and paragraphs would hit me. I need to buy this book for my own shelf.
Anyway, please, if that sentence piqued your interest, can you blog about it or comment here? Or e-mail me personally? I’d really like to know how others feel and then force my readers to digest it. Oh, bless my readers. Heh.
The Discussion
see what everyone is saying
Well, I wish I, too, had been smart enough, or loving enough to know that everyone had burdens that crush them, but they dont give up their children.
Maybe, I should also insert.. I wish I had been strong enough, also…
Well here’s my adoptive mom perspective.
My sons mom didn’t GIVE HIM UP.
She made a thought out decision to provide him with a stable, secure set of parents in the type of environment she couldn’t provide for him.
I will never ever use the term GIVE HIM UP. She wanted MORE for him than she could give him.
And to me..that shows more strength than I will ever possess.
While I appreciate the sentiment, Luann, it doesn’t remove the fact that she made the decision to place him outside of her home and she will have to answer to that someday. That’s what this post is about: not wording. I had the semantics arguments yesterday, not today and not on this subject.
Whatever wording you want to use, which I just used a quote from a book because “give up” is never the term I use for my own situation, the conversation has to be had at some point in time. Arguing semantics at that time doesn’t answer the question, it avoids it. If the Munchkin comes to me and says, “Why did you give me up,” I won’t launch into a big ole schpiel as to why that is politically incorrect and offensive to birth mothers who go about making an adoption plan and place with intent of staying in contact. What could would that do? What would it convey? While I also “chose,” lovingly, to place the Munchkin in an equally loving home, I have to have this conversation some day. I hope to be able to distinguish the reasons behind placement, no matter how she brings up the topic, without finding myself speechless. Whether she uses “gave up” or “placed” or “abandoned” or whatever, I hope to be ready to answer. That’s the point of this post.
Because, as much as we want adults to use the correct and appropriate wording to show respect for one another, children are brutally honest and will call it as they see it or feel it. While I can hope that Munchkin will see my love for her in my action and word, she may feel that I did something wrong, that I left her, that I abandoned her, that I gave her up. In fact, during those teenaged years, when all adults are “against her,” I’m sure she’ll use the situation against me to see what my reaction is.
And I’m trying to prepare for that. While I appreciate your answer as well, how are you preparing for this conversation other than correcting language? It doesn’t answer the core of the question… which is what I’m really trying to get at with people… though I enjoy the emotion that you convey. I think that would go a long way in your answer, whatever it ends up being.
“I wish she’d been smart enough, or loving enough, to realize everybody has burdens that crush them, only they don’t give up their children”.
Great quote Jenna! I’m going to try and condense this, but my thoughts are spilling and when I think, like you I write…:) I also have apologize in advance for the capitalization…don’t know if your blog supports HTML (blushing). Anyway…
Here’s MY daughter’s reality. Her mom in Guatemala DID have terrible burdens and they DID crush her and leave her without choices. There WERE no options except making a plan for her daughter to GET OUT of the situation. NOT ONE OPTION. NONE. Guatemala City is a city of close to 5 million. In that city there are TWO planned parenthood type clinics. Two.
I totally agree that in a perfect world this would never happen. A world where people actually opened their eyes to the cries for help from expectant moms, a world where there was no discrimination (which is rampant in Guatemala), a world where a young mother had family that would help support her and her little girl, a world where a mother wasn’t dying at 20…yes… in THAT world a mother would be able to live under a burden that crushed her. And she wouldn’t have to GIVE UP her little girl.
But the reality is, my daughter’s mother faced a death sentence for her toddler, even as she faced her own illness. She KNEW the outcome if her daughter stayed. She had been dealt a devastating hand. And she HAD no choices.
In a perfect world, adoption would never, ever happen. But this world we live in is oh-so-far from perfect. And that is the cold, hard truth. And it is devastating on so many levels. And I as my daughter’s mother, I am dealing with that and will be for the rest of her life.
I love this baby girl to my core. But so did her first mom. And what kills me, what makes me cry out, is that there were no choices. Because RIGHT NOW there are babies that are dying. And I cannot stand by and pretend I don’t see that. I can’t wait for aid to get to them. Because they are dying RIGHT NOW. And I HAVE to do something. I have to.
Now, that being said, here’s where I see the difference.
The US for the most part, is nothing at all like a third world country. Nothing. Jenna, I can’t remember if you are a Christian and my apologies if you’re not and this offends you in any way. I believe with all my heart that there is a reason God asked us to take care of the widows and the ORPHANS (James).
I have come to believe that God meant that verse very literally. It is the TRUE orphans that need parents, not the children who’s parents HAVE options. Because God knows our hearts and He knows the fallout that occurs when an infant is placed. He knows the emotional destruction adoption can cause and I think it breaks His heart to see His children in pain. IMHO, the true orphans are the ones God has asked us to take in as our own.
I’m not condemning anyone. At all. What I’m saying, is I’ve seen how this decision has devastated you and so many others. I’ve seen the pain and questions this causes to the children who’ve been adopted. And I see that on so many levels adoption needs to be reformed from the bottom up. And I also believe in a God who knows a mother’s heart and sees this all. And knows that unless the situation is life or death for mother or child, a baby should be with it’s mom. That’s how we were created.
Does that make me better somehow, because we adopted a child soon to be a true oprhan? Heavens no. We’re all human beings and we all make choices and decisions with what knowledge we have at the time. Some choices we will be living with, growing through, and changing our thoughts on for the rest of our lives. Adoption is one of those. When I went into adoption I was so blind and so taken in by what I’d been conditioned to believe. I will always carry guilt that I COULD raise E and her mom in Guatemala couldn’t. Why? Why me and not her?
I don’t know if this gets my thoughts across at all. I have way too much to say and it’s hard for me to condense it. Even my own thoughts are evolving as I learn. And it’s hard to put that all down here.
dawn
Dawnz; God bless you, yes, I’m a Christian. And your big long reply (for which I’m grateful!) brought tears to my eyes. The compassion you have for your daughter’s home country’s situation combined with your understanding of the US’s system, faults and the definition of orphan… well, your daughter is lucky to have you to turn to when she asks the questions that will inevitably come. You also bring up a really good point of going into adoption blind, which I think many first parents do as well as adoptive parents. While I deal with my own guilt, which you’ve read about, I encourage you to let that go… (easier said than done, eh?). Your reply here shows me a heart of a Mom who wants only the best for her daughter and that includes a vast understanding of everything adoption entails.
Mmm, this was an encouraging reply indeed.
OK.. now I think maybe I should add to my response.
My response that I posted is really what I think I would say. “Me, too.” Commiserate about the loss a little bit then try to stear it toward.. “but what we have now is still great and maybe the other way would have been notsogreat…we just dont know… and Im sorry that I didnt know how it would be for you — making you feel this way was NEVER my intention… and Im sorry…. Do you want to yell at me?? Because I will let you do that… if you need to. ”
I dont know. It is hard to prepare for something when you just dont know how or if it is going to happen. I hope it will be able to be something like I just said… but she could say… “Whorebag… you abandoned me and you didnt have to”…. or….”Thank you for giving me the parents I have”. Im not sure which would be worse. My response might be… “Wait.. I need a glass of wine for this conversation…” HaHaHa
I agree about the semantics… saying I or she or he or they wanted more for you, didnt give you up… well it is just avoiding the issue that no matter what pretty bow WE put on it to get through it… the adoptee is probably not going to think that way. I would not disrespect my daughter by responding with “Honey, I didnt give you up… I wanted more for you…”
Mmm, Christine, I like the idea of “commiserating” with whatever they’ve really said. I really like how you worded that particular reply. In fact, gearing your response off of WHATEVER the child says could be great advice for anyone preparing to have this kind of conversation. If she says x, respond with y. If she says b, respond with c. Don’t respond to b with y because it negates everything she just said and makes her feel like you’re not listening.
Yes. Something for me to mull over in my thoughts right now. Thank you, Christine. Well played.
My immediate response is this. She didn’t have a choice. Maybe God did have a role in my being placed with my adoptive parents, namely my adoptive mother. She pushed me into searching and hopefully reunion. Since it didn’t happen( a whole nother story), I began the path of changing laws. After much research, my immediate response is still very much the same. Society shamed and displaced her.
I don’t like looking at the give up part. Its a deep wound that I can’t find the words for. Joy is pretty good at saying them but I am not. To know what hell she went through makes the wound hurt more. I know that I don’t want my children to go through that so I fight the laws that allow those circumstances to proliferate.
I find reading and writing the best way to deal with those feelings. I speak with natural mothers and fathers to help with my grief. In my path to here, I have had a couple of cool opportunities. I had just delivered my first daughter. One of my dearest friends at the time was the city treasurer of Del Rio. She was also a natural mother. She revealed it to me then. I of course told her I was an adoptee. We asked each other if the other had searched. I told her no but I wanted to. She told me that she didn’t feel like she had the right. For that moment in time, I was her child and she was my mother. She got to hold her future grandchild. I have had a few of these. They heal in so many ways. That is how I deal with it.
Amy; goodness I thank you for sharing the things that you have just shared. I also commend you, again, for taking the path to change laws in spite of other things. I thank you for sharing with us… words we need to hear and think about in our journeys… so important.
Jenna my situation is completely different from yours. My son was adopted thru the foster care system. He was removed from his parents due to severe neglect. His mom was incarcerated for 30 days and terminated her rights after her release. She was removed from HER parents as well for neglect..but she was 12…not 6 months..and she was pretty messed up. So not only is she going to have to answer for why she gave up trying to parent him..she’s gonna have to answer to why she didn’t take care of him properly when she DID parent him. And why so far she has made no attempt to find out anything about him, even though I made it very clear I would send her updates and pictures. And I’m going to have to be the one to explain all that to him without breaking his little heart or making him feel like HE did something wrong. Beleive me when I say I lay awake at night and think of how I’m going to answer his questions.
If he asked me today I would tell him his mom didn’t know HOW to be a mom, cuz SHE didn’t have a good mom. But she loved him…and she TRIED…but she was very young and mixed up with people that did bad things, and she didn’t want him to get hurt. And this is a completely different answer than you are going to give…so I can’t help you there.
I can’t even begin to imagine the emotions you have regarding Munchkin’s placement or how you are going to answer his questions that she undoubtedly will have.
But here are my thoughts. Munchkin is gonna go to school and meet other kids that are adopted. And maybe those other kids aren’t going to have a loving birthmom in the picture. She knows that you are THERE for her. That you didn’t walk away from her. You are PRESENT in her life. No you aren’t raising her, but she knows how much you love her. And I think that makes a huge difference as far as how many questions she’s going to ask or just how hard she’s gonna drill you about your reasons for placing her. Plus add in the fact that she has great a parents..parents YOU chose for her. Parents YOU respect and get along well with.
I’m sorry I can’t help you..but I just want you to know I respect you and admire you. And I have a feeling your daughter is going to feel that way too.
Luann; I thank you, immensely, for coming back and clarifying your original post by sharing some of your story with us. That sheds some light on why you responded like you did and makes me nod my head along with you. I really like the answer that you have at the ready if he was to ask today… not all (but some! of whom I’m blessed to know!) who have adopted from foster care would use such a compassionate answer. I applaud your willingness to make the best of what is definitely a hard situation for all.
That said: I like your idea of Munchkin getting to know other kids whose parents might not be in the picture. As part of my commitment to her and her family, the consistency of my presence will hopefully show her that I DO love her unconditionally.
I thank you for your kind words. I’m really just flubbing my way through birth parenting like everyone else is flubbing their way through everyday parenting (ya know, like with BigBrother!). I try to make the best of everything… but sometimes it gets hard and confusing!!
Jenna, you sum up my thoughts on that quote in your first reply to Luann.
I so relate to the phrase about being smarter because if I had been smarter I would have seen the truth in this choice I made. I chose to abandon my child and leave him behind. Semantics as you say do their best to make that truth digestible and not look so ugly, but the ugly truth is there just as the positives of adoption are there.
If I was smarter I could have looked at this choice with my eyes wide open. I would have stood up to my family announced, “Ohana means family and no one gets left behind…” to quote Lilo and Stitch.
If I was smarter…
Also, have you been reading the comic strip Luann this week? Last week was the fire department theme with Luann’s brother, this week is Luann’s best friend coming to terms with her parents’ previous decision to place her older brother for adoption.
i feel the pain of that book quote. my pain. see, i always felt, at my core, that surrending my child was wrong. it was wrong for me and presumably wrong for her. but i did not voice that feeling, i gave in to all the adults, authorities, agency workers and threats of lawsuits. i was too scared and naive and abandoned.
but i always felt what I did was wrong – for me. it was only years later that i learned about primal wound, the truth about my agency, what was done to me and it made me supremely angry and frightened. like other posters said, the only way i can deal with that horror of what i did and what was done to me and my child is to work to prevent it from happening to others.
adoption is in many cases a permanent solution to a temporary situation.
too emo to write more. i wont make sense.
[...] wish I’d been smart enough, too Posted July 26, 2007 Jenna recently read a book, apparently written by an adoptee, in which the adoptee makes the following statement in regards to [...]
Wow and to think I thought I was ready for the questions my adopted daughter would come to me with. Thank you for this post and for the dialogue in the comments.
Though “I” may intellectually know why my daughter’s first mom made the choice to place her for adoption – the feelings my daughter will feel due to that decision are not likely to be nearly as clear cut or neat and tidy. They will be I am sure messy, painful and I need to be ready for that.
And to be real – despite being in contact during 4+ months of my daughter’s first mom’s pregnancy – do even I truly know her heart and why she placed? I think it would be presumptious for me to think I did know.
Your Arriana is blessed that you are and will be around to help her sort through feelings as they surface.
Thank you deeply for this and all your honest writings. I am going to give this topic some deep thinking as right now I have more questions than I do any answers.
I really think we have to look critically at the factors that played into the “choice” of adoption. For instance, if coercion was involved then there really was no choice as a coerced decision is not a decision at all. Similarly in being able to make an informed decision: Did anyone support you in taking your baby home and recovering from the birth (several weeks) before making an “adoption plan”? Because if they did not, then there was no informed decision: first time mothers especially have no idea of the changes that birth will make to them (emotionally, psychologically, physically). The baby is an “unknown” that they can only guess at as to how they’ll feel. Thus an “informed decision” about adoption during pregnancy is an oxymoron. The agencies don’t protect us from this type of exploitation because they make scads of money from infant surrenders.
Don’t blame yourself when no other viable options were given to you. Or at least check out http://www.originscanada.org/adoption_coercion.html (and compare with Australia’s non-coerced surrender procedures at http://www.originscanada.org/comparison.html) and see if you were coerced by any of these methods.
I don’t know your story, but i do know that the vast majority of us loved our babies and wanted to keep them.
ouch. i’ve been thinking about this since you posted yesterday, and still can’t formulate an articulate response.
great post, Jenna. makes one think.
I think this gets at the heart of why there is a stigma about birthparents. By and large, most people DO feel surrender is abandonment – that the woman is doing something wrong. So we will always have the arguments about “giving up” and other terminology. And we will always have the stigma.
I wish *I* had been smart enough to see that no matter how many sweet words and gooey thoughts they wrapped around this “loving option,” and no matter how good my intentions were, it would still feel like an abandonment to my child. And that no matter how hard I tried to dress the surrender up in bows and ribbons, I really was GIVING UP. I waved the white flag of surrender. I didn’t fight hard enough. I *was* stupid. But I don’t blame myself for it so much any more, because I see that those in power do not provide advice on how to find the strength to parent. They just pounce on the women who are unsure, and prey.
magic; *nods in agreement with everything you’ve just said* While I understand that my unethical agency is highly adept at making mothers feel detached and unnecessary to their children, I get angry with myself for not being able to see through their facade, through their veil of lies. It frustrates me so, so much. I also get angry then with my kidneys, health and inability to work which caused me to prioritize money which caused me to turn off my internet… so I didn’t have access to things that might have helped me look at what they were saying and realize, “Well, huh, that’s not right.” I realize some of these things were out of my control but at the same time, I feel personally flawed for not having recognized a bold-faced lie when I saw one.
suz; Perhaps I need to write about this one that you’ve just dislodged from my lock-box of stashed memories: the feeling that it was wrong. My initial reaction to the thought of adoption, shortly after my kidney tried to implode and the first surgery, was that it was wrong. A discussion I had with my grandma is now so loud in my head I can hardly think. I did allow myself to be swayed by what others said and thought but… now I wonder, why didn’t I go with that gut reaction? Hmm, thank you for making me think even more.
Nic; for anyone who hasn’t read Nic’s post on the topic, she brings up some great points about apologize AND recognizing that the conversation MAY not happen. Nic is always so very smart. READ.
Ariel’s Mom; Thank you, so much, for taking the time to respond. I like that you used the word messy. I think it’s one of my favorite words to describe the whole grief process, for whoever is going through it for whatever reason. (I stole it from the movie We Are Marshall.) I wish that my own feelings were neat and tidy. I don’t like messy things! And, for encouragement, having more questions than answers is a sign of WANTING to learn and do more. THAT is something that ALL of us should strive for. Bless you.
DeeDee; my story is in bits and pieces all through this site. In short, no, I didn’t have that support and yes, my highly unethical agency (ANLC) did coerce me in many different ways. However, I feel that I also need to take responsibility for the things I personally did and believed, whether they were lies or not, that lead to her placement. If that makes ANY sense. Any at all. I hope it does. Sometimes I confuse myself!
Barb; My words get jumbled as well.
Heather; I really like your analogy of giving up and the white flag of surrender. I could see how MANY first mothers (and fathers) could really feel that way with regard to the relinquishment of their child. Something else to really ponder. Thank you.
[...] Jenna asks,”Adoptive parents: have you had to field a question like this from your child about his/her [...]
I wrote twice but am still thinking. There’s a lot to think about here.
Oh, and also following my last comment about not being smart enough, that also applies to the impact of the loss. I should have known better. To think that I honestly thought that I could leave my child and not mind after time passed. That it would hurt for a bit but then not. Rubbish and I should have seen that truth too.
You know funnily enough, I did know that relinquishing Moonbeam would hurt afterwards indefinitely. I imagined myself driving along, listening the radio, years later, and hearing a song to remind me of her, and getting sad. Yup, imagined it out before relinquishing.
But I honestly thought it would be like… like missing California, my childhood home; or like missing my best friend, after moving away from her.
I never had an inkling that there would be nightmares, anxiety, hyper vigilance and a constant fear of having my future children taken from me, missing memories, panic attacks, insomnia, a pounding heart, or moments of all-consuming anger.
A fellow Bethany first mom just emailed me this week with the most incredible story. I wish I could post it, but I won’t, because it was told in confidence and I don’t know that she wants it shared, but… what it boils down to is this: It’s no wonder we’re not told about the true effects of relinquishment.
It’s no freakin’ wonder.
Nic; I think that’s a great way to explain how we (myself included and other birth parents) were told that the pain and “missing” would feel… like something from our past that gave us some sadness. Like how I missed my high school boyfriend after we both moved in our separate directions. I mean, I knew that hurt a lot and it took a lot out of me… having no other death or loss to really compare it to at the time… and I just thought I would be able to eventually move on/forward without, as you said, the anxiety and panic attacks which only worsened after Mr. BigBrother was born.
I’m sure they neglect to tell us for a specific reason, of course. Who would place? Then again, I’m totally just making stuff up and being a victim and not taking ownership and being too negative, according to some other people on the blogosphere. I say to them, “You think you know, but you have no idea.” No. Idea.
[...] If I’d Been Smarter or Loved More… [...]
Well as an adoptive mom I will add my two cents. I have had some conversations like this with Buddy (just turned five). Sometimes he brings up his first parents and sometimes I do. I don’t remember him asking WHY yet but he has a lot of other questions like why don’t we see them? Where are they? Are they dead? When will we see them?
We don’t see them and don’t hear from them. I send the updates and it makes me kind of mad that they never respond. Reading what other first parents say about how it feels for them makes me more compassionate. I can only guess that my boys’ other mothers are doing the best they can.
I plan to keep telling him about the circumstances his first parents came from and how they made the decisions, but it is all based on the paperwork I was given so I don’t know the deep truth. Saying they thought it was the best for him sounds hollow to me but as I think it’s as close to the truth as I can come I hope he will take it at face value. I don’t think it would serve anyone for us to try to guess beyond what they wrote down about their wishes and hopes and reasons. We do have paperwork written in their own hands saying briefly why they chose this. It’s not enough but it is something.
I will add that I know he will always feel pain about it and I am willing to stand and hear it, trying my best not to let what I want be the loudest voice.
I imagine this question will come up from Nate. Of course he knows about his first mom and dad, that his first dad wasn’t around much. He knows that we want to meet his first mom someday if at all possible. He says that he wants to meet her, that he wishes that she were here, and I say “I do too.” Because I do.
The really difficult ones that you posed — they haven’t come up quite yet. Not yet. I imagine they will. Now, since we’re in family therapy for behavioral issues and later we’ll get into adoption loss as per the therapist, I don’t know if we’ll address these specific questions or not, but we might. In fact, I’d say that we’ll probably get to them, or questions like them. So we may very well have her help which would be a very nice thing.
We do have the documentation that Nate’s mother left for the orphanage, but it’s in very official, cold language. It tells the “why”s of her relinquishment. But there’s no emotion there and I fear that it will hurt him. On the other hand, it’s something which is more than some adoptees from Vietnam have or will have.
If we ever get the chance — and there are a lot of ifs there, but I do have hope — I’d like to find her and open up the adoption. If that happens and if she feels able to, then maybe she would be able to answer the questions herself. If not, then we’ll do the best that we can with them. I feel relatively confident that I can tell Nate that his first mom loved and loves him but simply felt that she wasn’t able to care for him, didn’t feel that she had the resources at that time to care for him in the best way possible. That she felt stuck.
And then I want to listen to him. Listen to him and hold him and be there for him and whatever feelings he has about it and help him process it, if he’ll let me in on his journey with it. Because there’s only so much I can do as far as be her voice with it, but there’s more I can do to simply be his mom and help him along the path, not towards healing — because I think that’s ultimately within himself. But just to be there for him and to love him. I can’t take the pain away, but I can let him feel whatever it is he feels, listen to him say whatever words he has to say. Or, if he needs me to leave him alone and process it alone, I can do that too. I just want to be there for him in whatever way possible. I hope I can help him with it. I hope he lets me. If nothing else, I can pray for him and love him like I do. I can at least do that.
I don’t know if that answers your question, but it’s a tough one. It’s a really good one, Jenna, but a tough one.
And I bought the book soon after you suggested it. As soon as I’m finished with the book I’m currently reading, I’m going to read that one. It sounds wonderful.
I wrote a post in response… very thought-provoking.
Oh, and, Hi!!!!
–Stacy
[...] recently posted about a book, The Secret Life of Bees. She picked a quote where an adoptee says this about her first mom: [...]
Oh my — I already read that book.
I read so much that I do this — read a book and then forget until I read something in-depth that tells about it. Wow. I remember loving it; I remember parts of it really well and how it affected me a lot and that I couldn’t put it down.
It’s been awhile though.
And I do remember how lucky I am to have people in Nate’s life as a resource who can help explain things to him — *hugs* — how very very lucky I am.
How very lucky he is to have that.
This quote resonates with me because it is the view my placed son holds and the implied question he has asked. I have never had a good answer; it is the question with which I’ve beaten myself up all these years (37). Never mind that I was sixteen when he was born and that the laws supported my parents choice in the matter. Nevermind that I was absolutely coerced to the point of being drugged in the hospital and made to sign papers with a 104 degree temperature (from a breast infection; the dear doctor (who was the devil incarnate) didn’t discuss ways of relieving my breasts, which became so engorged that I developed a horrid breast infection. This led to scarring and deep stretchmarks, which I have had to carry for life). My son sees me (we were reunited 16 years ago) as the resourceful, successful survivor of an abusive marriage, college professor, opera singer able to do most anything person I am today…not the helpless sixteen year old begging to be allowed to keep her baby and being told she’d be put on the street if she told the extended family or tried to keep the baby. My son and I have a good relationship now, but we have been through many difficult times because I cannot answer the question you put forth to his satisfaction…nor mine.
I wish I’d been more *smarter*, actually more educated and more in touch with my screaming instincts — which I allowed to be trampled over by “experts.”
I wish I knew that adoption would feel like abandonment to my child. I had absolutely no idea (absurd as it sounds now) and actually believed the opposite — which, of course, is what the agency wanted me to believe.
I scoured the libraries at the time (late 80s) looking for literature after my “counselor”/facilitator offered “Dear Birthmother” to “educate” me about adoption (can you imagine?). Of course, all that did was begin the process of suggesting I was merely a conduit.
Ignorant as it sounds coming from a reasonably intelligent woman, I actually came to believe that my daughter would be “grateful” if I surrendered.
Ignorant? Yes. I feel like a complete fool for buying that, but then I’ve only to look at the ads my agency is putting on U-tube, etc. to see that they’re still feeding that crap to pregnant mothers.
All of that said, I was very bonded and very much in love with my daughter from the moment I felt her first movements; even before. I knew if we separated, it would be devastating for me … not for her. But I got this inkling after she was born, a nudge in my soul that whispered otherwise, so I held fast to the promise of open adoption; our guaranteed lifetime contact.
Of course, I didn’t know my agency’s open adoption agreements were merely verbal and not legally binding.
oops. extra “more” there.
[...] just read “The Secret Life of Bees,” remembering Jenna’s post last year. A good, quick read. Touches on lots of adoption related issues, though its not [...]