An incredibly well-written post I got to feature at BlogHer started a discussion on Facebook in which a woman told people not to “dis” on the attorney because most people are happy on relinquishment day.
Yeah, I balked too.
While I can’t dismiss her seemingly personal experience, I still do not believe that the majority of birth mothers feel “happy” upon relinquishment. I explained that it wasn’t a happy moment for me. And then I went on… as I usually do.
Out of all of the birth mothers and adoptive mothers with whom I have discussed THIS specific moment, not ONE has said that it was a happy moment for the birth mother. Later? When things and hormones and everything calm down? And promises are kept? And normalcy brings everyone together? Yes, that can be happy (though, also really, bittersweet). But that moment? Of letting go, of signing it away, of the lowest lows? Is not happy.
Of note: I did not have to sign papers in the hospital as I was released from the hospital before the required 72 hours before a mother can sign the Termination of Parental Rights in Pennsylvania. I signed at home. However, leaving the hospital without my daughter was incredibly hard. That letting go, the walking away, the dying inside. The only thing that even comes close to matching that moment of low was signing the papers with the attorney. Those two moments were not happy. They were incredibly hard, soul-sucking and reduced me to feeling nothing more than worthless.
Speaking specifically of that moment in the hospital — the hand off — I have blurry memories. I was panicked because my mom refused to come to the hospital so I was doing it with the help of my dad who was trying to be strong but was emotionally devastated as well. I remember Dee sitting in a chair across the room; she was wearing glasses. I remember the nurse, touching my arm. I remember the feeling that I had no control over the moment. It wasn’t that I wanted to change my mind; it was that I wanted everything to slow down. I wanted to breathe. I didn’t want the nurses to be pushing us out the door. I wanted to sit, to think, to talk. I wanted to look at my baby, quietly and without interruption. But things were going so fast and it hurt too bad to look at her, so I slipped into the mighty trick of astigmatism-caused blurred vision and melted away.
I was not happy when the nurse wheeled me down the hallway. I was not happy when my dad took my daughter from my arms. I was not happy when I got up and walked out of the hospital without a goodbye, cold December wind slicing through me, making me catch my breath which, having just had a baby, hurt. I was not happy as we pulled away, as my dad broke down in sobs.
The thing is, that while Dee was happy to have a baby sitting next to her in the car, she shared how bittersweet the moment was for her, how sad she was that I was obviously — and rightfully — heartbroken. I remember her words, which are not mine to share with you, and how amazed I was that she was able to convey that bittersweet moment, when she was placed between two emotions and forced to feel them both. She was happy and she was sad.
And so, I’ve been forced to think about this for the majority of the day. I don’t deny that in certain cases, a mother relinquishing her child might be able to feel happy. I know others who spoke of not quite happiness but instead a peace; they were at peace with their decision but they still felt a sadness. I know many others who felt an incredible, deafening, eye-blurring sadness — like me. Others were angry. There are many ways to feel, of course.
So, I decided to make a poll. I could have put emotion after emotion, but stopped after a short while. The last option is “unknown” if you can’t quite recall. I made a radio button poll so that you can only select one even though I know the majority of us felt a multitude of emotions. Please select the one you feel fits closest to what you felt, though I did write in an option for no one word can quite describe. (To be honest, I don’t know which button I’m going to press when I publish this post. We’ll see!) I would encourage you to explain your answer — if you feel so inclined. I’m sure some less than ethical people might try to skew the results of this poll, so — as with all things on the Internet — take it with a grain of salt. At the very least, I think discussing this would be a good thing.
Note: Everyone is welcome to participate in comment discussions. I would appreciate if only birth parents would answer the poll. I have no way of enforcing this, but you know, be fair.
Loading ...And by the way? The attorney in the referenced post? Lacked compassion, an understanding of the moment she was experiencing and the ability to read people and emotions. End of discussion on whether or not we should “dis” her.