The Census and Adoption

 Adoptees, Adoption, in General  60 Responses »
Mar 152010
 

We got our Census form today. I sat down to fill it out immediately because it’s all big and scary on the front with its warning of Doom and Official Gloom if you don’t return it. I am horrible at returning things. I just am. I can email you. But I can’t go to the Post Office. I figure if I sat down, filled it out and immediately put it in the envelope, maybe my loving husband will see it and do it for me. Right?

I filled out the first person information about my husband as it’s his name on the mortgage. Then I filled out my information and checked the box next to husband or wife of the first individual without reading down the rest of the list. Then I filled out the info about our oldest son.

I was about to check next to Biological Son or Daughter when I flipped my lid.

I'm Sorry, What?

I’m sorry. What? Separate check boxes for biological and adopted children? Really?

As a birth mother, I am offended not only for myself and my daughter’s mom but for my daughter. I’m offended for us all, everyone living within the world of adoption. I understand that the world, adoption included, has changed a lot since the last Census was conducted. But for pity’s sake, you’d think that the language and attitudes toward adoption back then would have made this differentiation even more deplorable.

Why are adoptive parents forced to differentiate between their children? Foster children who are not permanently adopted would be something I could understand due to the fact that they may not live there in the near future due to court dates and other factors. But legally, forever adopted children? We redo their birth certificates. We make it look as if the birth family never legally existed, despite any attempts at openness which isn’t even legally binding in all states. We tell these (adoptive) families that this is their forever child, to love this child “as if” he/she was their “own.” And then we make them check a separate box?

Really?

It upsets me, as a birth mother, because I have come to accept my role. I am not the everyday mom. I have no legal right. She may be my biological daughter but she doesn’t live here and she doesn’t go on my Census form. Had I parented, I’d be checking the biological box. I was told that she had a forever family, that she wouldn’t be loved or treated differently than any other children in their family. And now she has a separate box?

Really?

This makes me angry for all of the adoptees. Ever. And yet to come. Not only do we deny them their birth certificates but now they’re not the “same” as biological children. Really? Do we need to keep adding insult to injury? Do we need to keep reminding adoptees that we view them as different, as not quite the same, as less than? Do we need an official form that states, oh yes, adoptees are different?

I am just so saddened by this; more than is probably necessary. I know both in my heart and with the brain that processes everything told to me and seen by me that my daughter is loved, fully and wholly, no different than her brother. I know this and I have no doubts. It just angers me that the government which allows unethical adoption agencies to continue to exist and refuses adoptees their Original Birth Certificates continues to demean adoptees in Official ways.

I don’t even know to whom to properly complain. Not that they’d listen to a lowly birth mother, anyway, right? I signed papers so I don’t get to have an opinion as to how my daughter and her family are treated and/or portrayed, right?

Edit: If you don’t enter a real email address, your comment will automatically be marked as spam.

Second Edit which is REALLY annoying: If you’re going to spam my blog with comments to other people, berating them for their comments and generally act very nasty toward those who have been sharing here, your comments will not be approved. They will be trashed. I will NEVER understand the need to troll, throw about nasty words or generally be so inhumane to other human beings. You can be nasty to me as this is my space. You may NOT troll my commenters. Ridiculous.

Sideswiped by Music at 70mph

 Adoption, in General, Lyrics  1 Response »
Mar 112010
 

A friend introduced me to the band Mumford & Sons earlier this week. Last night I downloaded the album knowing that I’d be out and about in the Mustang with the windows rolled down as I ran errands today. I burned the CD as I got ready this morning and then set about my errand running. After singing along with one song three times in a row (amazing harmonies!), the song Timshel came on.

First it talked about death which, as you might know, is a hard concept for me right now as we have lost two family members this winter. I didn’t skip the song though. Again, amazing harmonies tickled my ears and I kept listening as the wind rushed through the open window.

Then the second verse smacked me in the face. I’m lucky I didn’t wreck the vehicle.

And you are the mother
The mother of your baby child
The one to whom you gave life
And you have your choices
And these are what make man great
His ladder to the stars

I kid you not. I can’t make these things up.

I had to restart the song, breathe my way through the death part and give it another listen. I cried a bit. As I do. I’m a crier. The chorus that follows is equally moving, especially considering what was just sung.

But you are not alone in this
And you are not alone in this
As brothers we will stand and we’ll hold your hand
Hold your hand

Oh, so many meanings tied up in that chorus following that verse. Not alone in what? In any choice? If I had chosen to parent, would my hand still have been held? As a birth mother now, still making my way through this journey, will someone still hold my hand? I felt hopeful and despondent all in one thought process.

I know, of course, that I am not alone. I also know that I am her mother, her first mother, who gave her life. But sometimes, still, it gets lonely. Even with support at every turn here on the Internet and in my real life. But the dark days are dark. The lonely days are lonely. The hard days are hard. I assume they are for all of us, no matter our choices, our journeys. Being reminded that I’m not totally alone, despite choices and the like, is nice. But to be caught off guard like that by a song was… wonderful and heartbreaking at the same time.

The song ends with this gem.

And I will tell the night
Whisper, “Lose your sight”
But I can’t move the mountains for you

An important point, I think.

I do believe that’s why I have such a difficult time with certain blogs, especially those of newer birth mothers. I want to make it easy for them, to help them transition into a life journey that they never could have imagined for themselves. I want to walk with them through that egg-shell-like first year. I want to hold their hand when their defenses come crashing down. I want to help them rebuild their lives as they make their way through the rubble. But I can’t, really. I can only offer a kind word, a shoulder and my own story. Our stories will never be exactly alike. They will live their own journey. They will climb and move their own mountains. I’ve climbed so many of my own, tunneled my way through the darkest of days. I can only pray that they make it through or over to the other side where the calming streams of peace await. It’s hard to watch.

And yet I know, as I do most days, that they are also surrounded by those who do care. That’s why I’m here. I’m here for me, for my healing. But I do care, even when I don’t have the words. We’re never alone.

By the way? Totally awesome band. They’re coming to Columbus in May. Going. End of story.

Edited to add: Have a listen. Have a tissue near.

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