I’m feeling kind of grumpy right now. There’s hate floating around the blogosphere again and, once again, I’m feeling affected. It’s not just me. It’s everyone as of late.

ThanksgivingMom was accused of not being real. Now, to be fair, as I commented on her post, anyone who chooses a level of anonymity on the web gets accused of it once or twice. Even those of use who have used real names, real locations and shared phone numbers have been called into question once or twice. This, of course, falls back on those who have chosen to create fake indentities in the past. It serves no good.  None. It ends up hurting those of us who are real. It’s just a bad, bad idea.

A post on BlogHer is talking about some blog-type drama of which I am not familiar. I don’t know the back story and I don’t really need to know the back story. All I know is that, in the process, my feelings got hurt. Because this blog is not actively accepting comments right now, I’m not “participating in the community” and therefore shouldn’t be calling myself a part of any kind of blogging community.

That’s easy to say if your whoe family and way of life hasn’t been attacked. Needlessly. Without provocation.

I know my specific case wasn’t mentioned or attacked. But it’s hard. I made this choice to continue on my healing journey. And, you know what? I am continuing forward right now. And it feels good. My good days are starting to out number the bad once again and I’m starting to keep my head above water on a regular basis.

And so, you can heckle me for “not participating.” But when I do “participate,” I’m heckled not just for my opinions, which would be fine, but for the way that I live my life. Until this world becomes more accepting of birth mothers and especially those who are in relationships with their children either via reunion or open adoption AND those who are pushing for reform, well, I’m going to continue to pick and choose what is and is not allowed in a space that I pay for. It’s really that simple.

Grumpy on Saturday Night is a post from The Chronicles of Munchkin Land. Want more Chronicles? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, please contact me or @ me on twitter.

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!

My Experience with Denial, Postpartum Depression and Relinquishment is a post from The Chronicles of Munchkin Land. Want more Chronicles? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, please contact me or @ me on twitter.

Tomorrow (or, today if you are reading this on Wednesday, October 24th) is the BlogHers Act Blog Day for Mothers Act. I’m really encouraging birth mothers to share their stories about the postpartum time frame, even if they didn’t experience issues regarding postpartum mood disorders, so that expectant mothers considering placement and brand new first mothers might have a reference tool for what to expect, what warning signs to consider and the general reassurance that they are never, ever alone. If you have a moment, please consider sharing your story. It may benefit you to get it off your chest and it could really, really make a difference in a new birth mother’s life. Please join in. (My posts will be up in the morning.)

Brief Reminder is a post from The Chronicles of Munchkin Land. Want more Chronicles? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, please contact me or @ me on twitter.