13

My Experience with Denial, Postpartum Depression and Relinquishment

I wish I had kept a better account of my postpartum period after the Munchkin was born and subsequently placed. To be honest, my memories are quite sparse from that specific period. It was a complex time in my life. I was dealing with the grief and loss associated with the relinquishment of my daughter. I was going through that hormonal fluctuation which included some really sweaty nights, leaking breasts and pain in all just about every part of my body. (They don’t tell you that before you have your first baby; you use your whole body to give birth and so, of course, all of your muscles hurt.) Add into those things a horrid communication problem with my Mother, an apartment lease that was up and a necessary move to Ohio… and it was just a very complicated time in my life.

But oh, oh, did I try to be brave. I only cried in the privacy of my room or with TheHusbandMan. I attempted to do things like have a normal Christmas with family members. I put on a smile during these social outings, smiling politely when people commented on how quickly my body had bounced back. They didn’t see the stretch marks hidden underneath winter clothes; permanent reminders to everything that I had lost.

I do, however, remember hitting my own breaking point. I don’t remember the actual trigger. I don’t remember the actual length of time. (However, I would assume it was within three months of her birth because it was before I was working.) I hit a wall. I couldn’t function anymore. I hadn’t been leaving our apartment. I hadn’t been showering. Or eating. And it all just came to a head. I ended up doing something that I’m not proud of and feel rather sheepish in admitting. But hey, I’ve written a lot of personal stuff here and those who are going to judge me are going to judge me no matter what I write. So, what the heck. I ended up resorting to an old (poor) coping technique and cutting my arms. Thankfully, TheHusbandMan was a nosy one, even then, and intervened. While I did not seek professional help, TheHusbandMan and I began taking long walks during which we talked about the issues that were bothering me.

Looking back, I feel some anger mixed with my confusion. What, exactly, fell under the heading of normal postpartum emotional fluctuation? What fell under the heading of normal adoption grief and loss? And what fell under the heading of “too far” or “too much?” What should have been a red flag? Should my denial of emotion, shown by the brave face I was putting on for family and friends, been a sign of things to come? Or do all birth mothers go through some sort of denial phase? I can’t answer any of these questions. Why? That’s where the anger comes in. I can’t answer any of these questions about what was normal and what was too much and when it crossed the line… because I wasn’t counseled in anything involving postpartum mood disorders, normal postpartum fluctuations or anything about adoption grief and loss. Okay, I lied. I was told, “You’ll be sad for awhile but then you’ll “move on.”" What good did that do me? Shouldn’t I have been given information? By someone? The agency? My doctors?

Shouldn’t someone have said, “These are the warning signs for something more than normal. Please call if you are experiencing anything.” Instead, my agency dropped off the planet as soon as I signed the Termination of Parental Rights. Having called on a weekly basis and twice while I was in the hospital, I was shocked by their sudden lack of interest. The only thing my doctor at the hospital discussed with me was birth control. (You know, because all mothers who relinquish are whores!) I was left to figure it all out of myself. I didn’t do a good job.

And so, I share this story, however, embarrassing it is to out myself, so that other birth mothers might know some things, might know more than I did when I went into the whole experience, blind and naive. Today, on the BlogHer Blog Act for Mothers Act Blog Day, I share this story so that mothers who are considering relinquishment might have a resource. I didn’t have any clue what to expect. I didn’t know anyone who had placed. I didn’t have the internet at that time. I had an agency who didn’t care a lick about me once the child was placed. I had a doctor that didn’t know what to do with me and just wanted me gone.

The truth is, if I had been honest with myself, I would have seen myself heading down a road that wasn’t normal, no matter what experiences or hormonal imbalances I had just gone through. Instead, I didn’t want people to know I was suffering inside. The agency had told me that I would just “move on.” I wasn’t moving on so I thought something was wrong with me. Instead, the agency did me a huge disservice by minimizing the pain that birth mothers experience as a result of placement. Because I was experiencing something different than what they had said I would, I felt like a failure. And I don’t like to feel like a failure. Ever.

I want all expectant mothers and new birth mothers who are reading this to know that if something doesn’t feel right, you need to call someone. If your agency has dropped off the face of the Earth and your doctor doesn’t know how to handle you, please reach out to other birth mothers, even via the internet. Someone can help you find resources and talk you through your emotions while you wait for an appointment with a qualified therapist. You do not have to do this alone. Mothers who have been there and done this would be more than willing to help you. I promise.

For birth mothers who are considering building their families (by parenting another child), I encourage you to read my post over on the birth/first parent blog on the subject today. BigBrother’s birth threw me for an even bigger loop.

Also, I encourage other first mothers to share their stories today as it is the BlogHers Act Blog Day for Mothers Act. Be sure to tag everything with Mothers Act so you can be found by all types of mothers!

7

Less Rights are ALWAYS the Answer

(I have some great stuff coming from The Secret Life of Bees. But people keep ticking me off.)

I’m frustrated. I’m beyond frustrated. Background story: forums are discussing a biological mother who kidnapped her child. Somehow turned into a discussion about revocation periods. I tried to avoid it. It was my kryptonite. I clicked. And the first thing I read was this:

Personally, after reading some of the posts on this thread, I feel that this story shows that major reform needs to take place as far as when the bmother has a right to change her mind. I feel sad for the bmother that she regreted her decision and wasn’t able to reverse it, considering she changed her mind only one day after placement.

You’ve. got. to. be. kidding. me. RIGHT?! You really believe that shortening revocation periods is the answer to this “problem” of mothers not realizing how much they really love and want to parent their children until “too late?” That’s what the world thinks? That’s NOT the answer, folks. Oh, it’s so far from the answer. It’s far too LATE in the process to be the answer. We need to start back at the beginning.

I responded with:

Or, ya know, we could have major reform that properly educates expectant parents as to the true extent of grief and loss PRIOR to the signing of the TPR as WELL as helping her find adequate parenting resources before a match is made so that things like this, ya know, don’t happen at all. Instead of removing more of their rights, which only leaves them feeling more helpless and possibly more desperate, perhaps we could protect the rights that they SHOULD have but are often NOT given because of high unethical adoption agencies, attorneys and practices.

Revocation periods are necessary whether certain people want to accept that or not. Parents are making a life long decision to let go of their child. It’s only after that name is signed that some mothers and fathers realize their error, that they 100% can’t let go.

(I did add that I don’t believe in kidnapping. I just don’t.)

And that’s the rub, folks. People want to believe that the problem is “lengthy” revocation periods where these mothers can “change their minds.” That’s not the problem. The problem is that we’re not educating expectant mothers OR FATHERS) considering placement that there’s a lot more to placement than just signing your name on a piece of paper. Agencies are doing NILL at educating these families about the life-long grief and loss that accompanies that signature. There’s no talk about how it can wreak havoc on your self-esteem, give you intimacy issues or basically traumatize you for life. There’s no discussion about how it will make you feel when you go to have other children, start a marriage or continue to live your life. There’s no talk about the hole in your heart, your life.

We tell women that they will get over it. That it will hurt for awhile but it will get better once you get through those five stages of grief. They don’t tell mothers or fathers that those stages of grief can be revisited with every new chapter of your life, leaving you experiencing everything all over again and over again and over again.

Beyond that, we’re not telling these expectant parents that they HAVE resources to parent. (Okay, some (and I mean, very few) have gone above the call of duty to point families in the direction of these resources and I commend their actions.) But most? Aren’t. Instead, we tell them that two parents are a requirement for a perfectly well-rounded child. (Newsflash: I had two involved parents and I am not well-rounded. HA!) We tell them that money (which equates to “stuff”) is important in parenting. We don’t educate them that they can actually feed their child for FREE for the first year of the kid’s life (hi, breastfeeding!). We’re not telling them any of this information. And they’re left feeling hopeless.

Even with that hopeless feeling, no one is telling these mothers about the Mama Bear instinct that kicks in almost immediately. I believe that’s why the number of mothers that do revoke their decision do it: Mama Bear instinct. When you’ve held a child that you’ve brought into this world, you’d do almost anything to protect it. Sometimes, for some women, that DOES mean placing. However, for others, it means keeping that child no matter the cost. Some of those mothers, unfortunately, feel obligated to sign the paper anyway because of the subtle coercions of pre-birth matches, whether that comes from an unethical family or an unethical agency (the latter of whom I blame the most).

Starting reform AFTER the Termination of Parental Rights is like trying to solve marriage problems by starting couples therapy AFTER a divorce. If you want to bring down the number of changed minds after the TPR is signed, you need to offer these women real and true accounts as to what placement entails. Yes, the happy stories are also needed because mothers who DO choose adoption need to know that, with work, they CAN succeed in open adoption and life. (You can. I still believe that you can.) However, we need to be fully educating these families as to what grief and loss can be like. We need to tell them about their resources. And we need to tell them about that Mama Bear instinct.

Until we’re being totally honest with expectant families considering placement, revocations are going to keep occuring at numbers that people find unacceptable. Shortening that time frame will do nothing to solve the problem.

I’m so discouraged. I need to go shopping. Retail therapy.

3

Unsolicited Pregnancy/Child Advice

I recently received a PM from a newer forum member. Unprompted. I didn’t PM her. We didn’t exchange any form of words in a thread. I hadn’t seen her name until this evening. In it was this paragraph:

I predicted another mom was gonna have two kids…and um…she is going to. So for you, you may think I’m a complete wack…and well…ok…I might be…tee hee. I think I’m a wakko too…so you’re not alone. I think you are gonna give birth to another child. You are gonna raise a little girl. FOR SURE. She might be yours and your J’s but she also might be adopted. ( I know you are cringing) but from a situation like mine….foster care or another country. I really believe you will be pregnant and give birth to a beautiful daughter, but you may also be called to adopt. From another country or foster care. I might be wrong…and sorry. Read my blog and you will know I’m super cool and majorly harmless. But I really feel your pain. Like a big sis….I feel it. And I want you to know you have to believe there are little ones coming to you.

There are some things you don’t need to hear at certain junctures in your life. And there are certain things you do need to hear at certain junctures in your life. But when they’re both contained in the same small message, all you can hear is the one that you didn’t want to hear.

As I face these newer, less-fun reproductive issues, my mind is on over-drive. My pelvic was ultrasound today. (Side Note: My kidney filtration rate is WAY down. Over 100 ounces of water and my bladder still wasn’t filling properly. Great. Another issue.) As I figured, the ultrasound tech wasn’t able to tell me anything about the pictures that she took. I didn’t see any aliens on the screen so I take that as a good sign. I don’t know much about ultrasounds of ovaries and the only things I know about ultrasounds of a uterus usually contain a baby. (Though, I’m great with renal ultrasounds.) There was no gasping or audible cussing. My doctor didn’t call me this evening to tell me to get my rear end to the emergency room. So, I’m now “looking forward” to my surgery. By “looking forward,” I mean emotionally dreading.

I know people mean well. It’s like telling a family waiting to adopt a child, “Oh, you’ll get pregnant as soon as you adopt!” It’s not what you need to hear. Nor what you want to hear. Right now, I don’t want to hear the word “daughter” in aspect to my parenting life. I don’t want to hear that I’ll adopt. I don’t want to hear the word pregnancy unless my doctor is telling me that I am, in fact, pregnant. I want this precise stage in my life to be over. Yesterday. I also want a new kidney. But it’s not happening.

So, my advice: just be thoughtful in what unsolicited advice you offer to people that you don’t know from Eve. I am not in a place where I want to think about the fact that, in reality, I may never parent a daughter. I am not in the place where I want to think about not having another pregnancy. I am not in the place where I want to think about adopting any child; domestic, foster or internationally. I want to get over this second cold. I want the surgery to be over. I want the leaves to turn orange and red. I want to celebrate my Son’s birthday. And I want two lines on a pregnancy test. In that order.

Until then, I will indulge in some self-torture and listen to “Daughters” by John Mayer. On freaking repeat.