2008 June » The Chronicles of Munchkin Land

Thoughts on This Month’s Package

Jun 252008

I just finished packing up the Munchkin’s June package.

June Package

Contents: a card with the normal note of what everyone has been doing, a picture of each of the boys, a small note to explain that the coloring book is from The Husband Man and an ambulance/emergency coloring book. Nothing spectacular, of course, but just another month where I did what I felt I had to do. Let me rephrase: what I felt was right by the Munchkin.

I find it difficult to pick pictures of the boys each month. (This month I have my youngest son sitting up outside, smiling very big, because he was not sitting up unassisted in May. My older son’s picture is a shot of him wearing his Daddy’s new motorcycle helmet as that is also a new “thing” in our lives. Joy fun!) I take a billion pictures every month. It’s hard to pick just two. I always write their names on the back along with the month and year.

My therapist asked me a question during my last session when I mentioned that the picture I sent of the boys in May was one of the two of them on Mother’s Day. She said, “Do you ever send pictures of yourself?”

Well, no. And I have plenty of excuses! Let me list them off for you, Therapist Lady!

I’m the photographer in the family. Pictures of me are rare.
These darn hormonal fluctuations have my skin looking hideous and, therefore, even when The Husband Man does snap a picture of me, I am not willing to share it with too many other people.
I don’t change much from month to month.
The boys are way cuter and way more interesting, don’t you think?

And while #1 is a really valid point, there are some tolerable pictures of me every month. But the real reason, of course, comes down to the fact that almost any picture of me that is presentable features one or both boys as well. I feel weird, to be downright honest, sending a picture of me smiling and holding my boys to the daughter that I placed for adoption. To me it screams, “See! We’re happy without you!” It’s not that we’re not happy. Sure, my youngest is teething now and that is super unhappy but we are a happy family. But that’s not because she’s not here.

It gets all jumbled in my head.

I thought about the things Therapist Lady said that day, about how I should be including pictures of myself as well. But I didn’t do it this month, even with a week to digest her points having passed. It just doesn’t feel right.

Anyway, it’s all sealed up now (meaning you can’t talk me into it! HA!) and ready to be dropped at the Post Office when we head out to run some errands this afternoon. I feel pretty good sending it before the verylastday of the month. In fact, I had the note written very early this month so I need to remember to mention my youngest boy’s new tooth (which will probably be teeth by then) in July’s note.

Guilt and Shame

Books, Guilt, Quotes 7 Responses »

Jun 232008

Guilt tells us that we have done something wrong, but shame tells us that we are something wrong.

-Sheila Walsh, The Heartache No One Sees

Emphasis hers. But it would be mine as well.

I have had the guilt/shame argument with those who simply refused to grasp anything outside of their experience. They’re different feelings. They exist for different reasons. They may be tied to the same core concepts but there are differences through and through.

I have guilt, like any mother, over the decisions I have made for the Munchkin and my parented boys. The book Mommy Guilt didn’t touch my adoption-related-mothering guilt. Not with a ten foot pole. I feel guilty that I wasn’t more knowledgeable about laws, ethics and adoptee issues prior to placement. I feel guilty that I have made some mistakes in my relationship with her and with her parents. I feel guilty that… wait for it… I feel guilty. That’s right. Oh, sweet cycle of guilt! But, honestly, sometimes my guilt has made it impossible for me to move forward with something that I knew needed to be done. And, hence, the guilt about the guilt.

But shame is a different level.

I don’t feel guilty about my role of birth mother. I feel shame. The words of others, some said with ignorance and some said with malice, have made me doubt my self-worth and the worth I have to my daughter’s life. When I am asked how many children I have and I respond, “Two,” shame is what keeps me from telling the truth. Because the general public seems unable to separate the action of placing (the “done”) and the person doing the placing (the “are”). As no one wants to slip on my shoes for even the briefest of occasions, they can’t seem to grasp how someone could place a child for adoption and, as such, I am immediately labeled along the lines of heartless, careless and generally distasteful. Their disapproving glances are not seen, by me, as a judgment of the action but a judgment of my person.

It’s probably not en vogue to admit that you have shame. But, alas, I do. I’m working on it. If only the general public would either step to the plate and work on compassionate responses or shut their mouths all together. Then maybe I could make some progress.

I trudge on.