Leaving without them

This week my 6th grandchild was born. It's an amazing feeling to have 6 grandchildren and an even greater feeling to be able to tell the world that I have that many grandkids because there was a time when I wasn't even allowed to admit to having 3 children, let alone having so many grandbabies.

Before my open, out there, truthy days, when I was pregnant with my second child, I would cringe every time someone asked me how many children I had. If a nurse, during a check up, asked me about the number of pregnancies I had experienced, I went through the usual struggle in my head. Do I tell her about my first baby, the one I surrendered to adoption, or do I pretend that this is my first go around this block? Of course, because I was dealing with the medical profession and there was a reason they were asking me this, not just nosiness - I fessed up to it being my second time with this particular experience. Ok, the stretch marks were going to be a clue anyway so there really wasn't any getting away with a deception when dealing with people who are going to see you naked so might as well tell the truth. Even then, it wasn't easy. There was shame. There was the quiet moment when you shared the information and waited for the judgement. Am I turning red? Please don't let me cry in front of these people. I just want to get out of here!

So what brought me to thinking about all this? When I was in the hospital, walking the corridor on the maternity ward, excited about seeing my new granddaughter, I was passed by a woman in a wheelchair being escorted out of the area. At first glance, I thought - oh, a new mom leaving the hospital with her baby and getting ready to set out on her new life with her child. The reality was, there was a woman being escorted out of the maternity ward by deputies. There was no child in her arms. There were no congratulatory balloons, no flowers. She was sitting with her head hung low and her tear stained cheeks told a different story. Where was her baby? Did she die? Was she leaving her behind for a family member to raise? Did she surrender her child to adoption? Was she leaving the hospital in the same state I was in 33 years ago? This woman, leaving the maternity floor was obviously in the custody of the state. I don't know what her crime was but I felt for her. 33 years ago I was in the custody of the adoption industry and the church. My only crime was being pregnant and single yet there we were. She and I. Two women separated from our children.

When I saw her my heart hurt. I was immediately taken back to the day that I was pushed out of the hospital, sitting in the wheelchair, arms empty, a voice in the distance, to this day clear as a bell, asking me - "where's your baby?". Me, unable to answer. All I could do was sit with my head hanging low, just like she was, quiet, desperately trying to hold it together, tears pouring and throat closing, not able to beg or plead for my child. I was transported back to that young woman who was dying inside.

No matter what that woman's crime was, I hurt for her. Whatever was causing her to leave the maternity floor with empty arms was causing her a pain like no other. I wanted to put my arms around her because I know that look. I've lived that look. She had that haunted look, the look in her eyes that said she was lost. It was a look that said - my life will never be the same again.

In the middle of the joy of a new grandbaby, I was reminded. I remembered that there are mothers leaving hospitals without their babies. With each new grandchild I'm reminded that there are grandmothers who won't get to see their grandchildren, mothers who won't get to hold their babies and families who won't be together - ever. This is what infant adoption does.

Eventually

Photograph: Alamy

"People don't tend to have the same respect for emotional brokenness as they do physical brokenness. Because they can't see the broken heart like they could a broken leg, it's easy to doubt that anything significant is really wrong."

A dear friend, who I feel a great connection to although we've never met, said this in one of her blog posts. Really, you should read her story from the beginning. She is an adoptee going through a tremendous amount of emotional turmoil, stress and upheaval at the moment. Actually those words really don't convey what she's been dealing with but how do you get across the ridiculous amount of trauma that a person goes through. How do we explain to people who really have no experience with this kind of thing, what it is we go through. You really can't. Unless you've walked in those same shoes you really can't know the depth of the emotion. They hear the words and try to understand but since there's no physical evidence it's too easy to move beyond the brokenness without considering that the break is still there on the inside. It's too easy to forget that the pain is still there. A cast on a broken bone is a reminder. There is no reminder with emotional trauma.

When I lost my daughter to adoption no one could see the broken me. No one had any idea because I was expected to hide it. She was a big secret so of course no one knew what had just happened. Imagine this scenario - your child dies and no one knows. In just a few days you go to work and you're expected to smile and act as if nothing has happened. You can't talk about it. You can't cry about it. You can't even seem sad let alone be able to really grieve. Your friends don't know so when you go to a party or out to dinner, you have to pretend not to think about it and just make small talk until you can get through the evening without crying. Your coworkers don't have a clue of course so you have to put on the professional face and maintain your composure throughout the workday. You run into people at the grocery store that you know from school or church or work and you have to pretend to be happy that you've run into them and have to now act like nothing out of the ordinary has happened.

Then you have the family members who DO know what happened - the very few who were privy to the actual events- the ones who knew where you were when you were gone out of town for 5 or 6  months during the pregnancy. I'm starting to realize that when dealing with this type of trauma, it's really not much different when people know what happened as opposed to the folks who really didn't have a clue. If you're not part of the adoption community in one form or another it's difficult to understand the trauma that is involved for that person. For the people who knew what was happening, it became about not only keeping the secret but keeping the peace. I think on one level they just didn't want to upset me. The thinking at the time was... just don't mention it. Just like the idea of keeping a baby away from the mother after the birth was supposed to make it easier to deal with the separation, the idea of not talking about the loss was supposed to make the transition back to "normal" life easier. Did that work? Of course not. On another level, this kind of denial just made it easier for them. Just get back to the status quo and everything will be okay. If we make it look good on the outside, it will be good on the inside. Keep the surface squeaky clean and all will be good.

But.... what happens then? Sure, you manage to maintain on the outside but what's happening on the inside? You're still broken. You swallow the pain. You go home and try to figure out how to cope. You cry when you're alone. You have nightmares. You deal with fear. You deal with anxiety. Why do we struggle to deal with this alone? Because like my friend said.... the emotional brokenness is not as obvious so it doesn't get the same amount of respect. We hear.... just move on, don't be bitter or angry, put the past behind you, why can't you just leave it behind? It's been so many years... why are still crying about it? Why are you still writing about it? Oh, you're writing about that again... that's why you're banging on the keys so hard. Well, pardon me, don't mean to be so noisy while I do my best to work through this and try to do something to help others. Sorry, hard not to get snarky when dealing with this issue.

With a broken bone you can see the result of healing - the cast comes off. The wound is healed. With adoption, whether adoptee or mother, the wound is never really healed, it's just scabbed over. Sometimes events pick at the scab. Sometimes people pick at it with the comments they make and they don't even realize they're doing it. Sometimes the comments are intentional because others don't want to deal with the truth - it makes them too uncomfortable. Maybe that's because they had a hand in making the adoption happen or maybe it's because they participated in the adoption of another child because like so many millions of people - they got sucked in to the adoption industry propaganda. 

However it happens.... the wound is there and the respect isn't. We have to hold each other up. We have to be there for each other - mothers for mothers, mothers for adoptees, adoptees for adoptees. Eventually we'll get there. Eventually people will understand more. Thanks to my dear friend for putting herself out there and letting people see the turmoil and raw emotion of what being an adoptee is like from her experience. It's only through the telling of these experiences that we can gain the understanding and eventually the respect of others.

2 Conversations

This past week someone close to me, a family member, asked me how old I was when I was pregnant with my oldest child. She was referring to the one lost to adoption and when I said I was 19 her response was

"you were old enough to make your own decision"

Last night I was chatting online with a friend of mine and he said -

"even the strongest rocks crack and erode from constant pressure- that's how we got the Grand Canyon"

He was talking about a situation that is totally unrelated to adoption but when I read those words, they resonated with me, not just in the case we were discussing but also in relation to adoption. It was interesting to me that these two conversations happened so close to each other. His comment reminded me immediately of the other one about me being old enough to make the adoption decision and I thought how strange it was that someone who has known me for so many years and who has had numerous conversations with me about adoption, still didn't seem to understand the coercion for what it was. I guess she still thinks I had a choice and freely made the decision to surrender my daughter.

My friend's comment about cracking and erosion was spot on. That is what happens to mothers being groomed to surrender their babies. They crack and erode from the constant pressure. The pressure may be subtle, the techniques slick and fluid as water, but it's still pressure. Sometimes it's blatant but still not recognized by the mother because of her unsupported and vulnerable position. I sometimes still see comments from people on articles about adoption that say to the grieving mother - "well, no one held a gun to your head". Well, that person would be right. No one held a gun to my head. But what the people around me did hold was......

the ability to help me but they didn't. 

the information I needed in order to keep my child but they didn't share it. 

the knowledge of how adoption affects mothers and their babies but they didn't share that either.

the financial support that would have enabled us to remain together, once again, no sharing.

the emotional support that would have helped sustain us until we could stand on our own but wasn't given.

the emotional manipulation tools that would steer me in their chosen direction and they used them well.

Guns are not the only weapons that can be used against someone. If something as simple as water can carve out a canyon then why is it so hard to believe that a young, vulnerable, pregnant woman can be coerced out her newborn child?

Well, here it is again....

Mother's Day. And "Birthmother's" Day. The second one I refuse to be part of. I never was a birthmother, I will always be a mother. Thankfully, this weekend doesn't carry the pain that it used to. The memory of that pain is still buried in the recesses and it gets easier over time to keep it there and not let it cloud the time I spend with family.

There are defining moments in our lives and those moments have a profound affect on certain holidays and celebrations. There was life before Liz and then life after losing Liz. There was life before reunion and life after reunion. Of course there were other defining moments such as the births of my other 2 children and they affected these same celebrations but for now I'm just talking about the life altering event of losing a child.

Life before Liz.....
Mother's Day for me was spent pretty much the same way as any other average kid growing up - shopping for a card, trying to come up with something different for a gift, a special church service to honor mothers, going somewhere special to eat.

Life after losing Liz and before reunion.....
Mother's Day became a day of strained relationship with my own mother. Searching for a card was no longer easy. The sentiments expressed no longer fit for me. If I were to give them I would feel like a liar. Honoring her as mother became difficult because my own motherhood was not only not honored, it was hidden and denied. I think I spent the first post-adoption Mother's Day in a fetal position. I remember lots and lots of tears. After the births of my son and youngest daughter, I could accept the many well wishes of family and friends. I could smile and feel the love of my husband and children but there was always a little girl in the back of my mind. Where was she? Who was she calling "mom"? What were they doing on that day? I thought of her every day of the year but certain days meant those thoughts were in the foreground every moment, coloring a grey veil over what should be a happy time.

Life after reunion....
The day became easier with my own mother. We've made some peace and done a lot of healing. This week my sister and I took her out for a nice dinner and we had a great time.
I am truly one of the fortunate mothers of adoption loss. Now on Mother's Day I can think of my daughter and smile. In fact I'll be talking to her shortly. She'll tell me about her life and what's happening with my grandchildren. I'll tell her about my life here, about her sister and brother, nieces and  nephew. We won't be together because we live in different states but we're in each other's thoughts and can call or text and send virtual hugs. It's taken a while to get to this point because just like other relationships, it takes time to get to know each other. The pain of pre-reunion Mother's Days is almost gone. I don't think it will ever leave me completely. Now what comes up is more the anger at being forced to wait 2 decades before being given the chance to get to know my own daughter. So even now, after reunion, adoption plays a part in the day. The experience of adoption for the mother and the adoptee is part of us always.

For the mothers who are still in the - life before reunion - stage....
I know how painful this weekend is but don't lose hope. You are a mother and there's always a chance that you'll be able to celebrate your motherhood with your son or daughter. My thoughts are with you. Much love and hugs.



photo credit: wallpaperpin.com

The Child Catchers: Rescue, Trafficking and the New Gospel of Adoption - A Must Read!

It's about coercion, deception and adoption culture.
I'm not done reading this book but I have to share it anyway. I do believe it's a must read for anyone who is thinking of adopting, thinking of relinquishing, has been adopted, knows someone who adopted, knows an adoptee, knows a mother who lost a child to adoption, interested in the history of adoption, basically anyone and everyone in the United States should read this book. It should be required reading.... period.

Kathryn Joyce brings us the history and the very current state of the adoption industry in The Child Catchers.  As a mother of adoption loss it's a difficult book to read but a fascinating one. Not all of the information contained in the book is new information to me, I've read and learned about some of this before but when put together in the context of adoption's history with what is going on right this minute, and viewing the timeline of a business, it is astounding! And it makes my blood boil.

Here are just a few of the sections I highlighted in my Kindle version. I'm finding so much I want to highlight I might have to buy the actual book so I can really use a highlighter and make notes.

Despite the varied but largely altruistic motivations of evangelical adoption advocates, as a movement it is directing hundreds of millions of dollars into a system that already responds acutely to Western demand- demand that can't be filled, at least not ethically or under current law. What that can mean for tens of thousands of loving but impoverished parents in the developing world is that they become the supply side of a multi-billion-dollar global industry driven not just by infertility but now also by pulpit commands.

"If you want to look at what's wrong with international adoption, state adoption, and Christian adoption," one agency director told me, "it all has to do with how they treat birthmothers. The common denominator in all of these is that the birthmother is invisible." When you get that, one adoptive parent wrote, it changes everything. Or, as another told me, "It's like the Wizard of Oz. You open the door and either you have to accept it's a house of cards or you stay in denial. There's absolutely no middle ground."

At the local level churches report a "contagious" spread of "adoption culture" that inspires fellow congregants to adopt, with even smaller congregations witnessing as many as one hundred adoptions in just a few years. Often parents adopt multiple children, and many adoptive families swell to eight or ten kids or more. The growth of adoption in churches is so rapid that it's led some Christian leaders to muse that church planters - Christians who help establish new, franchise-like branches of a church community- could build congregations this way.
The viral effect is intentional. Addressing an audience at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in 2010, the ABBA Fund's director of ministry development, Jason Kovacs, had counseled the crowd that the key to building a church-wide "adoption culture" is to "Get as many people in the church to adopt, and adopt as many kids as you can." He added that they should also "Pray that your pastor will adopt," noting the precedent a pastor can set.
One result has been the creation of "rainbow congregations" across the country, such as Louisville's Highview Baptist, where movement leader Russell Moore, author of the 2009 book Adopted for Life: The Priority of Adoption for Christian Families & Churches and a leading Southern Baptist theologian, is a preaching pastor. There, with the help of an active adoption ministry, members of the church have adopted some 140 children into the congregation. At a ceremony to celebrate them, Moore recalled, Highview's many adoptees toddled onto the stage with flags from their home countries. What brought Moore to tears was realizing that "most of the kids didn't recognize the flags they were holding but they all knew 'Jesus Loves Me'".

There is so much more to this book. I will post more as I get deeper into it but for now, if you want to read about the history of adoption and the current state of adoption in this country, then this is the book to read.

On this day....

On this day, 33 years ago, my oldest child was born.

On this day they hid her from me.

On this day, for 22 years, I cried.

On this day, for 22 years, I made a wish.

On this day, 15 years ago, I baked a birthday cake and started the search.

On this day, 10 years ago, we shared her birthday for the very first time.

On this day, today, I have my beautiful daughter in my life and I can smile.

Why would anyone choose that?

Yesterday I saw yet another story of a young man who decided that dying was preferable to living because being gay in our world was too much for him to bear. Every day gay and lesbian teens and adults are bullied, insulted, beaten, ostracized, shunned and shamed by their friends and families and yet we call it a "chosen" lifestyle. Why in the hell would anyone choose to live a life like that? Why would anyone choose to be brutalized by society and it's attitudes? Why would anyone choose to be treated as less than a person worthy of respect and dignity? I didn't choose to be heterosexual. I didn't just wake up one day and decide hmmmm..... men or women? I think I'll like men today. It's just who I am so why is it so hard for others to understand that being gay isn't a choice either. The pain of being treated with such disdain for simply being who you are must be terrible. I imagine, for some, the pain of hiding and not living an authentic life eventually becomes greater than the pain of being open and honest about who you are so it then becomes time to let people see the truth regardless of how those people will respond.

This brings me to adoption and mothers of adoption loss. A comment on one of my recent posts was...

"How can anyone believe that we would have knowingly and willingly signed up for this?"

So the same questions I asked about being gay could be asked about mothers who surrender babies for adoption. We supposedly made a choice, right? Why in the hell would anyone choose to live a life like this? Why would a mother choose to live without her child? Why would she allow strangers to raise her baby? Why would a mother choose to be brutalized by society and it's attitudes? We were treated as less than people worthy of respect and we still are in many circles. How many times have we seen comments from people that tell us that we deserved to lose our children because we didn't keep our legs closed? How many times do we hear that the "birthmothers" must have been drug addicted, she probably didn't even know who the father was, if she keeps the baby it'll just end up in a dumpster or in foster care. How many women would go into a so-called open adoption knowing that the adopters could close it at any moment, knowing that they could suddenly be shut out of their child's life for a minimum of 18 years? Why would anyone choose that and why is it so freakin' hard for people to understand that we didn't? Why can't they understand that expectant moms still really aren't choosing it?

I hear and see people all the time talking about the horrible pain of a disrupted adoption, how awful it is to lose a baby that they thought they were going to adopt. Everyone consoles them, tells them how sorry they are and how they're going to pray for them. What do they do then? They get over it fairly quickly as they move on to the next available adoption situation baby as soon as one is presented to them. At the same time there's the adoption agency telling pregnant women that if they love their babies, they'll give them to strangers to raise. I was told I would be selfish if I kept my baby. Aren't women still told this very same thing when they're strongly and repeatedly encouraged to do the "brave and loving" thing? Pregnant women aren't told about the lifelong grief they'll experience because then they're not likely to sign up for that. Instead they're told that they'll be sad for a while. I was sad for a while when my cat died. I can tell you that being sad for a while isn't even in the same universe with losing a child to adoption.

Pregnant women aren't told about the likelihood of adoptive parents closing an open adoption. They aren't told that the open adoption agreement isn't legally enforceable. They aren't told that their child may suffer from feelings of abandonment regardless of how loving their adoptive family is. They aren't told that there are no guarantees that the baby's adoptive family will remain intact, or they won't have financial problems, or won't have substance abuse problems, or won't abuse their children. Of course they're not told any of these things because then, why would they sign up for that?!

They say (before the adoption consent form is signed) that "birthmothers" are brave and selfless. We weren't brave, we were beaten down. Today mothers aren't being brave, they're being coerced. Later when a mother wakes up to what happened to her and her baby and she finally understands that she was exploited for the sale of her infant, she's called bitter and angry if she dares to speak up. Sorry, no consolation or empathy for you. Her voice is shut down. She's banned and blocked from public forums because the general populace doesn't want to hear it. Too many mothers are still hiding from the shame that was imposed on them. They not only have to face their past but then they have to face what people will say about them now and in the future.

As more people come out of the closet, whether they be gay or mothers of adoption loss, the more our voices can be heard. If we get loud enough, maybe, eventually, some minds will be opened, some hearts will find compassion and we can end this tragedy known as infant adoption.