No Promises

The discussion regarding opening the records of adoptees and giving them the same rights as every other citizen continues. I recently listened to a radio show on this topic and I planned on doing a post about it from the natural mothers perspective but today I saw a post by Amanda at The Declassified Adoptee that was so spot on and eloquent that there really wasn't much I could add. Amanda - you're amazing! If you want to listen to the show I'm referencing, Amanda linked to it in her post.

The only other thing I could add is that from my point of view, listening to others speak for natural mothers grates on me the same way it grates on adoptees to have others speak for them. In my case I'm both so it's doubly irritating. In this instance one of the guests on the show felt that there was some danger in adoptees having access to information regarding their birth because of the risk of outing a mother who had surrendered a child. She was perpetuating the myth of mothers being promised anonymity. Once again as mothers we have to step up and say we were promised NOTHING! We were the ones told not to go looking for our children. We were essentially told to disappear into the woodwork, crawl under a rock, go away, pretend it never happened, go have other babies, leave this one alone or you'll damage the child, stay away, don't ask for anything or you're considered selfish, don't interfere, and so on and so on.

I'm here to say once again, I didn't want to be a secret from my own daughter. I didn't want anonymity. I wanted to be able to tell anyone who would listen that I had a daughter. I didn't want to hide away in a maternity home. I wanted her. I wanted her back from the moment I lost her. I spent every day for 22 years looking for her. If she had found me first I would have been shouting it from the rooftops. So to the people who have not walked in my shoes yet they think they can speak for me, to be perfectly blunt - SHUT THE HELL UP! No one has the right to tell adults who they can and can't associate with. No one has the right to keep an adult's personal information a secret from them.

In my opinion, as a mother of adoption loss and as an adoptee, the adoptee's right to know who they are and where they come from trumps anyone else's desire to keep secrets. As a child the adoptee had no say in the matter about a contract affecting them. As an adult an adoptee should have everything to say about that contract.

History Waiting

Grief in waves, lungs fill, water pours, breathing stops.

Sitting alone in the dark, wicker creaks beneath, wine glass drips condensation

in time with tears.

Clouds cover moon and darkness deepens.

Thoughts pass and flow from despair to hope and back again.

A shadow at the back screen door, silhouetted by 6 bright bulbs of the chandelier,

looks out wondering why?

Hiding in the dark of midnight waiting for the shadow to retreat so the sounds of sadness

don't have to be swallowed whole.

32 years, when does it end?

The graft is still tied to the stranger branch, being held back but yearning for the original, tongue tied,

arms released but still struggling against invisible restraints.

The roots are still and waiting, wishing, sending thoughts on the breeze heading north.

Keeping it light, texting a smile, another week goes by.

Expectations

My forearms brace, I rest my temple against the cool tiles.
The memories cascade as hot water runs down my back.

Off white, ecru, eggshell, ivory, every shade but lily. Lily was reserved for the good.
The girls who knew their place, the girls who stayed closed.
Standing firm and bright was just a facade.
The golden strands of faith tarnished.

I believed they would hold me up.
I believed the generation before me.
As the incense burned and the wafer melted I trusted.
Verses droned on and beads clicked.

Bless me father, I am not worthy.
The golden strands wrapped and smothered til the breath was gone along with my child.
The water runs cold.

Sharing

This is an important post.

One of the things they said to me was "You will continue on like nothing ever happened" and "This won't affect anyone else".  


Natural mothers know this isn't true. We also know how much losing a child to adoption affects the rest of the family for generations. We see it. The rest of society needs to see it too.

Missing Pieces

Mothers wait. The faces are blank.

Year after year searching the eyes on the street wondering if her color matches, her size matches, her voice matches the long ago cry from delivery.

There are no eyes.

Every dream ends with emptiness.

She skips through the chambers of her mother's heart into the arms of another, unaware of her journey.

She doesn't know her face was erased for another who longs for her.

She doesn't know that under the same sky another waits and wonders and worries.

Another, as hard as she tries, can't conjure the features that they share. She tries to imagine the small voice calling momma.