After the Decision to Place

Ten years ago, I was swollen, pregnant, and wondering when my son would make his way into the world. In May, I would go to the hospital at least half a dozen times thinking it was time, until it was really was time. I would spend three short days, three of the most vivid days to date, and three of the saddest days I have yet to survive. Here I am, ten years later, in the same city. You see, after the adoption, I tried to erase my past, the days before I had my son. I didn't want to deal with the idea that life existed before him, so I numbed myself, and I moved out of the… [more]

Sometimes I look at my life, and the choices within it and it takes me back. My journey with adoption as a birth-first mother has transformed my life so much. It has changed my ability to love. I say it but truly mean it that when I saw Phoenix for the first time, and his red hair stuck up in a million directions that my heart grew. It has changed my capacity to love people in terrible situations but also I think made me more opinionated about certain things. Like life, and choosing life. Knowing what he did for me by simply being a squirmy lovely newborn I grew miles from a self centered and delusional girl. I had to make a decision and… [more]

The story starts like most of these stories do; I was seventeen, and one autumn afternoon I received that  life altering news; I was expecting a child. To this day, those words, their enormity will never leave me. I didn't hide it from anyone, like I know some choose to do. I promptly told my parents, close friends, and began to imagine what my life was going to look like going forward. Even though I was terrified, I was never ashamed. Honesty was the only thing I had left, I felt, as my friends dropped from my life, and the rumors spread like wildfire. I was raised in a highly religious home. For my parents, having an unwed pregnant daughter was next to murder… [more]

Her story became a secret, and secrets are always burdensome and translate into shame.  Even if we didn’t view it that way when we hid it, even if our motives were not initially shame based (though they often are) we will come to see it as something worthy of being hidden. Anything we attempt to escape will come to be seen as something worthy of escape. There was a time when I skirted the topic in conversation. Every time I had to twist or orchestrate an answer so as to steer away from what I was hiding, I felt uncomfortable and sad. I think some of us, instead of heeding that discomfort, just get used to it. And it spills over. We find that… [more]

Yesterday at church, I was among a large group of women discussing how one can be led in difficult decisions. The first thing to play in my mind was how I came to find my son’s family. I had the feeling I ought to share but I argued with myself; “but Tamra, it’s of a highly personal nature, you’ll make people uncomfortable. It’s not the kind of comment one can easily make concise, etc.” As we went from each segment of the lesson, my withheld comment continued to be relevant and the prompt to share continued to press on me. Finally in the last moments of the lesson, I decided I’d better heed. I started “Do you mind if I share something of a rather… [more]

When I woke up to the snow and ice, I woke with a smile. I dreamed of a friends little boy greeting me with such love and genuine joy that it lingers in my heart even now. I realized I miss a lot of things, some of them simple and selfish, some that are impossible-- I miss spring, flip flops and long hair. I miss waking up in my own apartment, living by my own rules. I miss my queen size mattress. I also miss feeling important to someone, wanted even.  I miss the small hand clasped in mine as we walk down to the library, now that my oldest son's hand is much bigger and he is much older. I miss reading "Guess… [more]

I had what some would perceive a very good end and start to my new year. On December 24th, 2012, the Adoptive parents and family came over to my house, and I saw Jimmy. Now if I haven't talked about Jimmy before that is because Jimmy is my son whom I named Phoenix. Tara and husband and kids enjoyed the time we had together. I had a nice clean house to call home to host in, handed out presents and spent time with a curious little four year old who holds my heart so delicately in his hands that he doesn't even know it's there. Jimmy and I played the piano together and he insisted that we sing Christmas carols together, namely only… [more]

I haven't talked about it too much, and frankly haven't noticed a whole lot of birth-first parents that talk about this. Signing off parental rights. I have a unique adoption story and anyone reading this knows their own story. Every story has a different flavor and experience, but we all share something similar. Phoenix was 8-9 months old when his birth-first father and I signed off rights. We had each been pulled aside by our court appointed attorney's and asked if we wanted to do it apart. Apparently we both agreed to stand together in front of the judge, and I will be frank, I don't remember a whole lot about that day. As we stood before the judge, he read us the termination of rights, and it… [more]

"I want it all, I want it right now." A line from a popular movie soundtrack--I have decided to write on the topic of depression. Society, in general, has an "I want it now" mentality. There is a lot one could say about this, on many topics, and situations--Let's look at it from where I am today... You know what I want? I want to stand up and proudly say who I am. I don't want to sugar coat my life's feelings and experiences, but I also want a positive outlook, more then that of a survivor. I was born to thrive. As a birthparent, I want acceptance and as a woman, I want unconditional love and friendship--no flakes accepted into my life. I hate dishonesty. Lets be… [more]

I spent last night playing various board games--Taboo, Scattergories, and a few others. It was fun, and despite plans of a movie falling through, it has been a decent holiday. The feelings of yesterday seemed to have their place, and the sorrow and grief that threatened to encompass me are sitting at my side like a faithful dog. I am choosing to allow them to be expressed; allowing myself to feel what I traditionally hid from. It's not that I didn't deal with them, I just wasn't willing to incorporate them into my life. Finding joy in the small things, like spending time with family and friends, is healing and therapeutic. It's funny how adoption changes things; how it makes simple things a touch more difficult… [more]